Skip to main content

Book Review:Fall to Grace: A revolution of God,Self &Society by Jay Baker (part 1)

Fall to Grace: A Revolution of God, Self & Society"It's a huge deal, this word Abba;this familar language.   It changes everything.In speaking to God this way,Jesus shows us that there is a relationship even more devout than obedience.  He show us that it's possible to know God in an intimate way, that there's a loving exchange  available here.  What could be holier than that?  I love the idea of Abba , because it encapsulates the Fundamental change from law to grace,from judgement to love.  My; friend Brennan Manning wrote an entire book about the Abba concept, called"Abba's child"In it he describes how transformative the Abba-son relationship has beef for him:"The greatest gift I have ever received from Jesus Christ has bee the Abba experience," He writes."My dignity as Abba's child is my most coherent sense of self"  I have taken this from page 74-75 of the book"Fall to Grace: a Revolution of God, Self&Society"  I feel this illustrates the vcery core of God's Grace and what this book is showing us is that His
grace is available to everyone,in spiet of mistakes , poor choices, or negatiave experiences we may have had with other well intentioned Christians.the book is divided into 3 sections.
Part I Revolution of God
Part II Revolution of Self
Part III Revolultion of Society
I want to give a longer post about this so I am posting Part 2 next week so stay tuned.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: In Texas Grass by Quincy Troupe

All along the rail
                                road tracks of texas
                               old train cars lay
                               rusted &overturned
                              like new african governments
                             long forgotten by the people
                              who built & rode them
                                till they couldn't run no more,
                              they remind me of old race horses
                             who've been put out to pasture
                            amongst the weeds
                            rain sleet &snow
                            till they die,rot away
                            like photos fading
                           in grandma's picture book,
                         of old black men in mississippi/texas
                         who sit on dilapidated porches,
                        that fall away
                       like dead man'…

The Speed of Belief by Tracy K Smith (poem)

I didn't want to wait on my knees
In a room made quiet by waiting. A room where we'd listen for the rise
Of breath, the burble in his throat. I didn't want the orchids or the trays
Of food meant to fortify that silence, Or to pray for him to stay or to go then
Finally toward that ecstatic light I didn't want to believe
What we believe in those rooms: That we are blessed, letting go,
Letting someone, anyone, Drag open the drapes and heave us Bak into our blinding, bright lives When your own sweet father died You woke before first light And ate half a plate of eggs and grits, And Drank a glass of milk. After  you'd left, I sat in your place And finished  the toast bits with jam And the cold eggs, the thick bacon Flanged in fat , savoring the taste. Then I slept, too young to know how narrow And grave the road before you seemed--- All the houses zipped tight , the night's Few clouds muddy as cold coffee. You stayed gone a week, and who were we Without your clean p…

My Arkansas by Maya Angelou

There is a deep brooding
                             in Arkansas
                            Old crimes like moss pend
                           from poplar trees.
                           The sullen earth
                           is much too
                          red for comfort.
                          Sunrise seems to hesitate
                           and in that second
                           lose its
                           incandescent aim,and
                          dusk no more shadows
                           than the noon.
                           The past is brighter yet.

                          Old hates and
                          ante-bellum lace,are rent
                          but not discarded.
                          Today is yet to come
                           in Arkansas.
                           it writhes. It writhes in awful brooding.