An Irony

I got my book in the mail on Friday. That was a bit of a surprise. The official book release after all is on April 25th. I’m not quite sure what to do with this discrepancy. Apparently, Amazon is already shipping the book out, but the book is not yet released. An eschatological dilemma in microcosm? The book is officially out later this month, but I’m already reading it, experiencing it in print even now. I thus have even more secure hope that the book will be published, because I have experienced now the publishing that will take place in weeks to come.

Yeah, that’s the sort of verbal wrangling much more typical to theology students. Plus, reading into things for theological analogies. Which is personally fun, but I suspect makes most people just give up reading more.

So, I’ll move on. Being a thoroughly postmodern fellow, I’ll point out a couple of ironies that I’ve noticed. One was brought to my attention by Sierra, my highly capable editor over at Barclay Press. It’s funny that after 2.5 years of waiting for the book to be published there’s a bit of a problem that it was published too early. Two years late and one month early. That’s ironic. In a good way. But I am waiting to do the publicity blitz when the book comes in glory out on it’s official release date. Though, if you were to order it now from Amazon, that’s a decision I won’t argue against.

When I started looking at the book more closely yesterday something new struck me that I hadn’t noticed before. It’s the picture on the back cover. Amy took this picture of me of me while I sat reading by Black Lake. Black Lake Camp is where Amy spent a lot of treasured times growing up, and her bringing me there was a bit of an answer to many of young Amy’s prayers. She led worship at a women’s retreat weekend last October, and I mostly read, trying to keep up with my course work.

I’m sitting there reading on a dock, looking happy, charming, winsome, and hopefully respectable enough that everyone who sees it will think, “Now there’s a guy whose writing I would trust and recommend to all my friends.” I chose that picture because I thought it was a nice picture of me, one in which I wasn’t wearing a hat (a no-no for Barclay Press), and one in which I’m outside. These three criteria are hard to find all together, so this picture stood out and I sent it off.

What I noticed yesterday about the picture made me laugh. I’m sitting there wearing my Wheaton t-shirt. Now, I’m not exactly trying to advertise my Alma Mater, though I do hope that my expression of Wheaton Pride might help people to understand my education and how much I value what I was taught there (and how much I still agree with so much of what I learned there). What’s less obvious is the book that I’m reading. Now if you had a CSI-show supercomputer that could zoom in and then de-pixelize the photo you might be able to see what I know, and have a little chuckle about it.

I’m sitting there on the dock, wearing my Wheaton shirt, reading the documents of Vatican II. If you know anything about Wheaton’s recent history you’ll know there was a bit of controversy about a Wheaton professor being a Catholic, a controversy in which, basically, they fired him when he became a Catholic. There’s really no big message I’m sending. But it is a bit ironic.

Only, when I took the picture, I didn’t think in terms of the irony.

I’m sitting there, in my picture, reading through Vatican II (for a class on ecclesiology), enjoying the lake, enjoying spending time with Amy (who was practicing her guitar), watching dragonflies. Thoroughly enjoying my time.

Unintentional irony is usually the best sort, I think.

This entry was posted in 500. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to An Irony

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *