It is interesting to me that one can come to trust certain authors, in the sense of trusting them completely. I have found a few I trust this way, as I am sure you have found many. I like many authors, some deeply. But not every author I like deeply, I trust deeply. For example, I have read a good bit of Nietzche now, and like him deeply—but I trust him hardly at all. Most fiction authors are the same for me: from the likes of King and Rowling to those of Steinbeck. They are making art, sometimes powerful art; art that I can greatly enjoy and find the deepest meaning. But still I don’t trust them. What I mean is, I would not be the least surprised to find one of their books entirely delightful or profound and the next one full of statements of belief, opinions, or views completely antithetical to mine. I would even expect it. (A notable exception is Bradbury. I find my trust for his fiction grows the more I read him). It seems, then, that my trust in the few authors I am about to mention is tied to the truth in them.
We share our trust of JP. His trustworthiness is not because of perfectness (he can’t seem to bring himself to confess Christ as his Lord even though he “can find no fault in him,” and I am now in a very different universe from him when it comes to evolution), yet I trust him fully. You may feel this way about Wright. I feel this way about Chesterton. What is common, at least to me, is that they seem more like traveling poets or Old Testament prophets. Speaking truth about life. About being. There is no other goal. They are not trying to get the reader or hearer to do anything, like other authors who beg, “Follow me!” while intellectually I understand them to mean: suspend disbelief—which is not belief! Belief is the obliteration of disbelief! No! These authors say, “Follow me” like Christ; fully commanding my belief before another word is spoken. My belief is prepaid. I am duty-bound. Like with St. Paul, if I do not understand him, what matter is that? My understanding has little to do with it. I trust him. My understanding will come through belief. I have found I trust George MacDonald in this way. Their Truth seeks and finds what was long forgotten in me; it is only that I needed to remember. I can trust now because of before; and after will be the same. They do not want anything except your life, except your being.