Andi, the lady who owns the Dunn Brothers coffee shop I daily frequent during the work week, asked me one day a while back if I had ever read The Shack . I hadn’t. She raved over it. My friend Austin consistently slammed, among other things, its cavalier Trinitarian theology, even to the point of alleging heresy. Fact is, I’d heard all the buzz, and had no intentions of reading it. Andi told me it was rock solid and would change my life. Austin told me it is like chaff to the wind. I trust Austin ’s theological astuteness (he’s a fellow Th.M. guy) more than I trust Andi’s. Austin and I think in similar Christian historical and theological paradigms. Any way, Andi brought it up again a few weeks ago. So as not to raise any issue, I told Andi I would “think about it,” knowing full well I probably wouldn’t. I had visions of John Eldridge’s ridiculous Wild at Heart running through my head. They’re books meant to make you feel good, but in the end they’re bottomless canteens. Th