He may one day be President of the United States, so I felt it was important to read the book. J.D. Vance has left me unsettled, with a feeling he really doesn’t know who he is.

Communion, which was published earlier this year, is the story of Vance’s return to faith. It is the story of a young man coming adrift and finding roots. It should be inspirational, and probably would be except it is tough to separate the man who wrote this book from Donald Trump’s vice president.

Theologically I have some quibbles with Vance’s Roman Catholicism. Maybe that is Protestant bias. Or maybe it is that some of his rationale for his religious leanings didn’t make sense to me.

That may be because my understanding of Catholicism doesn’t square with the policies of Vance’s administration. In many ways they can be described as evil. How can someone who has the ability to set policy willingly choose evil?

Politicians frequently don’t see the disconnect between their beliefs and their actions. I guess that makes them like the rest of us.

Rather than pick on Vance, I had thought of listing some Canadian examples of Roman Catholics (and other Christians) backing policies that were in direct contradiction to their faith, but it would be a long and boring list. Lord Acton’s Dictum remains in force.

I like the J.D. Vance of this book. I’d love to get together with him to talk theology. Or even politics, although there isn’t much of that in this book.

But I have this feeling that the person in the pages is a fiction. The real J.D. Vance may be the one the media shows us, an just as mean-spirited as Donald Trump, but more intelligent.

Communion comes across in many ways as a campaign document. The 2028 election cycle will start in a few weeks, and Vance is expected to run for President. This book, a sequel of sorts to Hillbilly Elegy, may be less about chronicling a return to faith than establishing a persona that will play well with the electorate.

That make it more comorehensible.