Read Part of the #1 New Release in Theology!
Exclusive Inward Apocalypse Excerpt for Subscribers
Happy Saturday, Friends!
Inward Apocalypse is now officially available wherever books are sold! And this morning, it became the #1 new release in Theology on Amazon! I need to pinch myself here in a second, but before I do that, I wanted to share an exclusive excerpt from the book with you all in celebration of this exciting occasion!
Join the launch party this Monday, Aug 15th at 8 eastern: bit.ly/IALaunchParty
The Kindle Edition is $2.99 for the launch! Purchase via Amazon here: https://a.co/d/dcTxqPo
Or
Order the hard copy directly from the publisher, enter the code "commongood" (all one word, like a hashtag) in the coupon code box and get 50% off the cover price!: https://wipfandstock.com/9781666735819/inward-apocalypse/
Or
Purchase via your favorite independent bookstore here: https://bookshop.org/books/inward-apocalypse/9781666735819
The evening air was unseasonably warm for December: warm enough to stand on the screen porch very comfortably making uncomfortable small talk as folks tend to do when they aren’t well acquainted. I tried to remain present and listen to the people around me, something I find difficult when the conversation stays at the surface. I was distracted by the night air and the teasingly complex flavors of the French chardonnay in my hand. The hostess came over with a tray of things to nibble on.
“These aren’t for you, Anna,” she said firmly as she passed the tray to everyone else in the group. The woman at my left looked startled and glanced sideways at me. I wondered if she thought the hostess was being rude, but in fact, this was the first time I’d attempted to eat at someone’s house after discovering I’d developed an Alpha-gal allergy from a tick bite. Basically that means I’m now allergic to all meat from mammals and the by-products of meat from mammals.
I had offered to simply bring my own food, but she’d insisted. She checked with me on several things by text prior to the gathering, seeking to understand this allergy and how to keep me safe. I’ve always hated having a fuss made over me, so this made me profoundly uncomfortable. She had planned pork sliders as the main course, but purchased and cooked a nice piece of salmon just for me. She made sure there were first course nibbles that were safe for me as well, just not that particular tray she’d brought over at that moment. Far from being rude, she’d spent extra time and energy working to understand a complex new allergy that I was only just beginning to understand myself. And as I sat there that night, eating my perfectly cooked salmon that was just for me, I thought to myself that this hostess was embodying an incarnational lifestyle even over this dinner party. She came alongside me in order to understand what I needed. She cared for me and loved me right where I was. It would be easy to say, oh, I’ve made an excellent dinner, therefore I provided for my guests. But if one of the guests cannot eat the dinner, then you haven’t cared for that specific guest, only guests in the abstract. But this hostess cared for me in particular, loving her neighbor as herself.
***
I’ve often considered the incarnation and wondered why it was necessary. Surely God’s imagination is big enough that God didn’t need to actually enter the world in order to identify with us. God’s imagination is big enough to dream the universe into existence, to stand outside all that we know and see it all in one instance, to speak and have life come from a word. And yet, God became flesh. Limitless God took on limits, eternal God took on death, spirit took on flesh. Far from sitting impassively outside our realm, power became ultimately vulnerable, born in a stable in a small town, of a small conquered country: the very last place that one would look for a king.
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