What if God has always been showing up in the places the church swears God can't be? This is a story of Afghan prisons and border crossings, of hidden compartments in vans rattling down the Hippie Trail, and of a boy who grew up without a father--only to discover decades later that his dad had been an international smuggler entangled with psychedelics, rock stars, and the Brotherhood of Eternal Love. This isn't a memoir. This is theology--an unflinching exploration of where incarnation happens. In donkeys and diviners. In deserts and surfboards. In LSD-drenched counterculture and dangerous theological conversations. The trajectory is startling: the same 1960s psychedelic subculture that trafficked Orange Sunshine LSD also gave rise to the Jesus People and, eventually, Contemporary Christian Music. From acid evangelists to praise choruses, the Spirit was moving through unlikely vessels. God was present in the fringe--in drug culture, in music the church resisted--long before the church was ready to admit it. Rob Zahn argues that the line between sacred and secular is a lie--a piece of sanitized church furniture that never belonged in the first place. This is not safe theology. It is disruptive, dangerous, and relentlessly human.
