Whenever I walk into my home church and see the line at the super nifty coffee bar, I think about how coffee is like a drug, and on Sundays we all get to take it together. And then I start thinking about how funny it would be if you walked into a suburban church and instead of handing out coffee to the masses, they were passing around a blunt or lining everybody up for bong hits. And then, the pastor, instead of quipping about whether or not everybody had had a cup of coffee, he could be like “Good morning everybody. Hey, it’s kinda quiet in here…did everybody smoke a bowl this morning? Ok, nice…alright, ushers please pass the Doritos.”
Don’t get me wrong, I see why it couldn’t be done. I mean, the people at the back would NEVER get communion cause all those little crackers would be gone by the end of the third row. And the hot-box effect would have the pastor standing in such a thick cloud of smoke that by the end he’d be far too blitzed to speak…or maybe stand. And there’s the whole “weed is illegal, and bad for you” thing. So, no. No weed in church.
I’m NOT in any way suggesting that we serve marijuana in church. But I still think it’s funny that we feed some peoples addictions while we scorn others.
I am addicted to coffee.
Addicted. Not even kidding. I am a slave to it. I love it… sometimes more than my children. I make time for it. I use it. Need it. Jones for it. Withdraw from it. Highly reminiscent of a crystal-meth addict. Except I don’t have to hide behind a dumpster to drink a cup of coffee. I can do it anywhere I want. And I have dealers on every corner… and at church…
A few years ago, my friend Tom taught me how to make coffee over a campfire. We’re talkin’ no filter, no percolator, just water and coffee. It’s incredible. What you do is you throw the coffee directly into a pot of boiling water, then take it off the fire, let it sit for a couple of minutes, and then – this is the key – you sprinkle cold water into it, which, by some miracle of God, causes all the coffee grounds that are floating around in this undrinkable murk to settle to the bottom of the pot. Now all you have to do is gently ladle the hot coffee from off the top and into your cup.
And the thing is, this makes a super good cup of coffee. I don’t mean, like, I’m freezing cold and up way too early after getting zero sleep cause there was a rock jabbing into my ribs/ass/back/calf in the forrest where there are bears and other scary things that want to drag me off by my head so if somebody doesn’t put a cup of coffee in my hand in the next 40 seconds I’m going to curl up in the fetal position and cry, kind of good. Although, it is good like that. But there is a richness to this coffee, and it has a kind of, like, silkyness?, like a texture, that you would not believe. And, because of the campfire permeating everything, it’s kinda…smokey, or something… and Oh sweet Jesus, it is soooo good! It’s true that you can’t ever drink that last bit in your cup, there will inevitably be coffee grounds in it. But who wants the spit-sip, anyway?
It’s kinda like french-pressed coffee. But better somehow.
Here in Costa Rica they filter coffee through a sock. Well, it’s not an actual sock (although I would not doubt it has been done on many a desperate occasion), but they call it a sock, and it looks like a sock, and it’s like a little tube of cotton or something, like a sock. Ok, so it’s a sock. And the sock goes through a hole in a wooden stand where it hangs over an individual cup. They put the dry grounds in the sock, and then stand there and slowly pour hot water over the grounds as the fresh coffee drips from the bottom of the sock and into your cup. Sounds inviting when you describe it like that, huh. It makes for a decent cup of joe, though.
My point is that I’m not the only one. Not the only coffee junky. All sorts have come before me, all over the world, and perfected the art of imbibing under any circumstances.
So here’s the deal. I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m going to stop drinking coffee. It’s my only publicly acceptable vice. But, I want to need Jesus every morning MORE than I need a cup of coffee. So. I’m going to be making a concerted effort to change a few habits in order to get to that place. For me, that means going to bed eeeearlier, eating breakfast, and not touching the coffee pot for at least an hour after I get up.
Also I’m going to GIVE AWAY a bag of Britt! I know. You’re thinking way to go, VWM, give the drug away. But, the thing is, I’m not vilifying coffee. Coffee is good. The problem is me. I’ve turned it into a drug. I’ve put it too high on my list of priorities. I understand that not every church goer on a given Sunday is a user. Like me.
You may love and enjoy coffee in a very healthy and reasonable way, so I’m just gonna give this beautiful, aromatic, delicious unopened bag of Britt Costa Rican coffee, to one of you. To enjoy. The way it should be. Not to use it and discard it like a dirty hooker, the way I would. It deserves better. I’m doing it again, huh….
Ok. So, leave a comment (with your name or email address) if you want the coffee. And on Wednesday at noon my time (google it), a winner will be chosen at random by me asking one of my kids to pic a number from 1 to whatever. It’s all very scientific. But please, no coffee fiends – only regular non-coffee-addicts need apply. Mkay? Cool.