The "Hellish Devil's Drink" We Call Coffee

Must credit David Fitch ( @fitchest ) for posting this gem by Jeremy Postal to Twitter.

Today's bizarre bit of history: if I were to ask you what drink the church had at one time labeled a "hellish Devil's drink" you would most likely guess some form of alcohol, right? Well, oddly enough, coffee owned this distinction for a time.

What?! You mean my morning elixir isn't the saintly drink I thought it was? Well, at least not, at one time, in the church's view. Perhaps even more odd was that apparently the church questioned why good Christians should abandon their ales for coffee...now there's something that won't preach today! :)

Also worth noting, according to Postal, as coffee gained popularity in Europe, it wasn't so much the coffee that people were after, as much as it was community. People were attracted to the common ground created by the new coffee houses. They were places for free thinking and gathering. Free thinking and gathering that sometimes ran counter to the dominant culture. Try viewing your local Starbuck's through this lens. Could you see the people lounging there as free thinking rebels on the verge of starting an uprising? That was sometimes how the church viewed these new coffee drinkers.

The next gem I find in this video is this quote attributed to Pope Clement VIII after tasting coffee for the first time: "This Satan's drink is so delicious that it would be a pity to let the infidels have exclusive use of it. We shall cheat Satan by baptizing it." When was the last time you thought you were cheating Satan by enjoying that morning cup of coffee? Me neither.

And this leads Postal to ask some questions (I love this): "What happened to the free thinkers? What happened to the subversive, counter-cultural ideas? What happened to the kind of people who made the people with the power uneasy?" If coffee was at one time a drink for "rebel rousers" then what happened? Folks, what if we viewed the spaces around our coffee pots at church as places where ideas could meet and flourish? What if we viewed those places as spaces where there was opportunity for new frontiers to be explored?

Am I advocating change for the sake of change? Not even a little. But what ideas have you buried deep because you couldn't find a safe place to share them? What questions have you not asked because you could not find the right setting or atmosphere? What if you found that place around a coffee pot at your church? Let's build these spaces! Let's build some space for the free flow of ideas and discussion. Let's set each other loose to explore the rugged frontier that is a life lived to God. Let's stop expecting everyone to come and sit quietly, without saying a word.

The last little nugget that I found in this video, a quote: "Our coffee is safe and our churches are safe. That's why revolutions won't happen. We need a disruption." Again, I don't believe in change just for the sake of change. But, let's ask ourselves this: in our own context of following God, if there is a disruption needed, do we currently have spaces where it could be explored and discussed?

There's a coffee pot that sits on my desk in my office. If you've got a minute and would like to share some ideas, drop in and I'll pour you a cup. Let's be "rebel rousers" together!

I'm Not the Captain of My Own Ship...or Your Ship Either

I do like to be in charge. And the thought of striking out on some adventure, serving as the leader, choosing the direction, does sound exciting to me. It seems freeing to think of my life as a ship, with me as the captain, battling the elements, charting the course, and everything riding on my shoulders. I decide the outcome. The adventure continues on my terms. My identity is largely the outcome of my own actions. If I want to be good, then I am good. If I want to be a rebel without a cause, rage against the system, then it is my choice. My identity is a moving target.

It is sometimes equally tempting to see myself as the captain of another person's ship as well. I want other people to behave, believe, feel, understand, etc. on my terms. I want other people to live up to the stereotypes I have for them. If I think someone is a dirty, rotten, scoundrel, then I want them to stay that way. It is too difficult to try to recreate a new stereotype. So stay the way I think that you are, please, and thank you. This is your captain speaking: your identity is, unfortunately, not a moving target.

Neither of these thought processes are true. And I'm glad. I'm glad that it is all not on my shoulders. I still remember the pressure of finding my identity in middle school and high school. I'll admit, whatever I thought the popular stream was, that's where I wanted to find myself. This affected how I walked, talked, and what I wore. I wanted (what I thought was) freedom to change my identity according to what would most benefit me socially. And, of course, I'm not the final word on any other person's thoughts or decisions. It may seem comforting on the surface to think I know all the ins and outs of the people around me and they will always think and do the way I think they should. This, though, only leads to frustration, because I'm no more in control of another life than I am of my own.

There is a captain. Believing that God has laid a claim on my life, I see my identity (thankfully) as something I don't choose for myself. It is given to me. The fate of others, their thoughts, and attitudes, are not determined by me, either. Spending time thinking on the idea of being "bought with a price" (see 1 Corinthians 6-7) helps me see that I'm not out on the sea of life, alone, calling my own shots. I'm tempted to think that way. Tempted to do things my own way and do what I want. But control of the rudder isn't mine and that is a good thing.

I think so much unrest in life would be lessened if we would think more on the idea that it is not all about doing what I want. There is really more freedom is letting Lord show us the way.

A Brief Blackout and the Glories of Bluefield

It came without warning last night. And it couldn't have come at a worst time (unless you are a Denver Broncos fan). With just a few short minutes left in last night's Super Bowl the light's in Bluefield College's Student Activities Center went out. Nothing left but emergency lights. People file outside to see what the rest of campus is like, and most of campus is dark as well. In fact, much of Bluefield, WV was dark. A few thousand were without power, and thus began the brief run of Blackout '14.

A blackout can be a serious situation for many people, but I have to admit, I enjoyed reminiscing about past power outages with my parents and brother, playing games by candlelight. And there was something almost peaceful about heading back home through a mostly dark town.

As mentioned above, though, Blackout '14 was brief. Whatever the equipment failure, it was soon corrected and thousands of Mercer Co. residents were brought back to the light.

It's easy to gloss over things like this and move on to whatever is next in our lives. The blackout is over. Lights are on. What's next? Please, pardon me for being a little idealistic, but let's look at this as opportunity to feel good about where we live.

1) We have electricity to lose in the first place. Not much needs to be said about this. So many in the world are without reliable electricity. It really is a blessing I take for granted.

2) My experience during the short time I've lived here has been, all things considered, things like power outages and snow covered roads are taken care of rather quickly. Imagine if a power outage, for any reason, automatically meant days of lost power for thousands of people? Imagine if just a couple inches of snow meant that roads wouldn't be clear until the snow finally melted?

I can sometimes be an optimist to a fault, but let's remember to feel good about our town. Let's remember to feel good about what our community offers us. Grateful people will eventually lead to great cities.

Have You Been Spiritually Knocked Down a Notch?

Have you ever sat by the bedside of a very sick person? I mean very sick. So sick you're not even sure they know you are there. I think there are few other experiences that can make you feel as helpless and inadequate. Imagine, walking into a hospital room, to do your good deed, your pastoral duty, intent on providing inspiration and encouragement, because, after all, it is what you have been trained to do. You know what to say and what not to say. You've learned about where to stand and sit and the right posture to have. However, upon entering the room you are made immediately aware of the fact that, contrary to your inflated view of yourself, there is very little for you to offer. You realize that your words fail you and that your human skills are not enough.

It was a wake up call for me. A reminder to always be humble. A reminder that I have no real power or skill on my own. If I want to offer someone any real encouragement, especially someone who is very sick, I should always defer to someone else. Sometimes it is easy for me to forget this. I'll sometimes rest a little too much in the knowledge and skills I think I have and get a little complacent. It's hard sometimes not to rely too much on myself.

It's painful, but sometimes I really do need to be spiritually knocked down a notch.

And here is something amazing. Jesus chose to be knocked down a notch. Jesus had unimaginable glory with God from eternity past.  Jesus had power as well, because John tells us in his gospel that nothing was created without Jesus. And yet he chose to give it all up. Paul said in the often quoted Philippians 2 passage that Jesus "emptied himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men." (Philippians 2:7 NASB)

If I am to truly serve someone else, and if I am to truly model my life after Jesus, then the proper action for me to take is to empty myself of me. This may seem counter-productive to a Western/American way of thinking. We want to strong, self-made, self-sufficient, and to be the hero. But, in order to offer someone the very best of what I can give I need to teach myself that I am not the hero. Jesus is the hero. I am just a channel through which he comes.

There is actually a lot of freedom in this. Jesus, in all his power and glory, comes to hurting people through me. There is comfort in this, for the person we try to help, and for us as well. To sit in a chair, praying quietly next to someone isn't a defeat. It is being a channel through which victory comes. Victory in the name of Jesus Christ.

A Theology of Scarcity?

I recently listened to an interesting article on NPR (I'll pause, and give you time to chuckle at that. I don't mind.). Two researchers looked at the idea of how scarcity can affect our thinking and decision making. Here's a link to the article: "How Scarcity Trap Affects Our Thinking, Behavior"

Basically, they looked at two kinds of scarcity: financial scarcity and time scarcity. The researchers contend that those suffering from the latter have a similar line of thinking and make similar decisions as those of the former. Business professionals operating under a constant time crunch, under a constant feeling of never having enough time, often make decisions that lead to them having even less time, much in the same way people who are in debt make poor financial decisions that lead to still more debt.

I found this fascinating because I think this could influence how I might serve people as a pastor in Southwest Virginia and South East West Virginia. I see this area as being more diverse than what some people may think. You can drive through a seemingly upper middle class neighborhood and without realizing it transition into what looks like a forgotten ghost town, except that for so many it's not "forgotten" but "home." And yet, although there seems to be such a difference, such a gap between the have's and have not's, maybe there are more similarities than we think.

What if that feeling of not having enough is a major factor in the lives of both groups? What does that say for how we approach them with the gospel? What if a major factor in the lives of many people around here, whether they are short on cash or time, is the same factor: I need more.

More. Professionals, who may be in a better spot financially, may still be racked by a sense of always lacking. Lacking the time they believe they desperately need. And someone living in an impoverished state may actually share many of the same feelings, just with a different object as the felt need.

I think this can aid those who wish to share the gospel. Remember that everyone around you may be suffering from scarcity of some form or another. And, scarcity may be influencing them to make some poor decisions that may trap them in a vicious cycle. Jesus says, "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden [or how about "all you who are suffering from scarcity"?], and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

The gospel is for rich and poor alike. I miss the mark if I think one group needs it more than another. All people need Jesus. The good news is he is more than enough. Our message is that faith in Jesus can pull you out of the belief that you'll never have enough. I believe that Jesus can make the feeling of scarcity a distant memory.

Do you see this feeling of scarcity (financial or that of time) in people around you? Do you think the idea of scarcity could create connection point between too seemingly different groups (those in poverty/debt and those who feel trapped by a lack of time)?

Tis (Still) the Season

I learned something fascinating the other day, which you probably already knew about. All my life I have assumed that the Twelve Days of Christmas all led up to Christmas day. My wife taught me that this is not the case, and that the twelve days actually start on Christmas day and end January 5th. As I said, you probably already knew this, but my wife taught me something very valuable: Christmas isn't over.

Traditionally, the celebrations after Christmas culminated in the festival of Epiphany on January 6th; "epiphany" meaning manifestation or appearance (Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary). The festival celebrated Christ appearing to the Gentiles (i.e. the Magi).

So what does this mean for us? It could simply mean a few extra days of Christmas trees, decorations, and radio stations playing Christmas music non-stop. Or, deeper than that, and rather than packing everything up on December 26th and forgetting all about Christmas, maybe there is an opportunity to be witnesses to another layer of meaning for this season.

It is interesting that the Magi have a prominent role in the Nativity. I'm not the first to discover this, but you could consider the Magi as an unlikely group of characters to appear on the scene. They presumably came from far away to see firsthand the child who had been born. They apparently were aware of the birth of the child as a result of their study of the stars. Also, maybe most striking, they were most likely not already part of God's chosen people (i.e. not Jewish). They weren't the religious elite from around where Christ was born. They were most likely wealthy, but having the stamp of approval from some Eastern kings probably wouldn't carry much weight with the Jewish people. Their place in the story is altogether unlikely.

And that's me. My place in God's story, based on a worldly standard, is altogether unlikely. I don't measure up. I miss the mark. Compared to God, I have nothing to brag about. No platform from which I can boast. I'm not part of any elite group. But, God came to me anyway. He made me part of his story.

So, rather than be in a mad rush to put all our Christmas decorations away, I want to take some time to remember what my wife taught me: Christmas isn't over. As unlikely as it was to reach out to me and show me grace, that's exactly what God did. And that's reason to celebrate.

What Does Presence Do?

I said I wouldn't do it. "Caleb, don't give in. Don't feed into the social media nonsense." I told myself. "Don't let politics and controversy seep into your blog. This is a happy place. Your blog is the puppies/Christmas/candy/rainbows/unicorns section of the internet." Well, I'm doing it. No turning back now.

Social media has been exciting to follow the past few days. Some posts have been like watching train wrecks. You want to turn away, but you just have to ride it out and see where it goes. Some posts have been so clever and witty that I can reread them and still have a good chuckle. Some posts have been laced with love. Others have been laced with that razor wire stuff that they put on the top of prison fences. All in all, it's been a good ride. Good job, internet.

What all this has got me thinking about is this: how should we really engage one another? What should I do if I'm for Phil, against Phil, tame Miley, Kanye for President, don't take my guns, melt all the guns down and use them to make Prius', or whatever? Do I wage social media war? Do I charge up Facebook Hill, ready to face death/getting blocked, as I fight the backwoods rednecks or the hipsters (depending on my stereotyped target)? Or, do I simply do nothing. Live and let live, as it were. As long as no one is physically hurting me, it's all good. Tolerance above all else. It everyone's right to do everything they want. Not my problem. Say what  you want. Or can I be in between? Is there an in between?

To be sure, I have some firm beliefs of my own, though I try hard not to rant too much on the internet. I'd rather rant in person. Less of a chance that you'll just get up and walk away. Ha! But, I do enjoy talking with people about real stuff. I'm talking about things we believe deep down. But how can I do that with someone who deep down is against the things that I believe? How do I engage in a relationship with someone who, because of beliefs, is separated from me.

This is where it gets tricky. And this is where some may think me too soft, too exclusive, too simplistic, or too...a lot of things. I think I can learn a lot about how to engage people with different beliefs by looking at how God brings his presence to me.

Now, try to follow me on this for a little bit. My own experience of following God has gone like this: it didn't all happen overnight. Over many years God has given me little pieces (probably as much as I could handle) of what it means to follow him and I've progressively moved in that direction. Sometimes I've taken a few steps forward, then a few more back. But I'd like to think that the overall trajectory of my life has been towards him. The really fascinating part is that it's been all him. There's no meet in the middle or anything like that. God comes to me. I don't mean that I'm always passive or that God comes on his hands and knees begging that I follow him. I just mean that, in what I think is my own experience seen through the lens of my background, God brings his presence to me.

God has never done this because of how good I am. You see, I used to be a brat. And not only a brat, but I was mean. So mean. Don't believe the hype. I was living apart from God. Chasing my selfish desires. Driven by an effort to figure things out on my own. And then it begins to happen. I begin to hear God through people in my life and through reading the Bible. God was coming to me, reaching out to me, bringing his presence to me. Over time, I understood that God sent Jesus to be born, live as we do, die for our sins, and be raised back to life, which is something promised to those who believe as well.

God bridged the gap with presence. I couldn't do that. No way.

So, what point am I trying to make? How about this: if I really, truly want to engage with people who don't share my beliefs, why can't I start with being present with them? Why can't I get to know them and know why they believe what they do? Why can't I look at someone from across a table and say, "I hear you. I disagree, but I hear you. Now let me get you some more coffee." I don't have to yell and scream and get angry and argue the world over to my side all in one swoop. And I don't have to be silent either. Maybe this is the middle ground.

 There was a time when I did not believe in the things that God is about. But God changed that by being present with me. Why shouldn't I follow his example and engage people in the same way? And guess what - that works no matter what side you're on!

ps - last post until the new year rolls around. In the immortal words of Clark Griswald: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"