The Experience

As I have shared before, I find Starbucks and their concept of doing business interesting. I guess they captured my attention first because they had the ability to sell a $5 cup of coffee. I mean really, its just bean-juice, right?

Now it hasn't escaped me that there are some coffee beans that are of a higher quality than others. But you can still get a reasonably good cup of coffee at a third of the price. And when Average Joe wants a cup of joe, price matters.

But after going to Starbucks a few times to see my daughter, who is a "partner," (meaning they pay her to work there) I realized that Starbucks wasn't actually selling coffee. They were selling an experience.

In his book, Onward, Howard Schultz, the ceo and founder of Starbucks, writes about his vision for his coffee company. He states that the concept for the stores are not his own, but are borrowed from a small espresso bar in Italy.

When he was traveling Europe, he visited this coffee bar and the experience overwhelmed him. The first thing he noticed was that everyone in the place seemed to "belong" there. Yet, even during his first visit, he was made to feel like an insider.

This feeling of being an "insider" motivated him to create a uniquely American place to accomplish the same thing. He calls this our "third place." He explained the term this way...everyone craves connection. The first place one should connect with others is in their home. Usually, the second place people find connection is at work. But most people need another place to connect in order to be emotionally healthy. For Schultz, Starbucks is intended to be that place. Every aspect of the place, from free wi-fi to the aroma that hits you at the door, are premeditated. They are intended to allow each customer the opportunity to have an "experience."

(One thing I found incredibly interesting is his aversion to selling breakfast sandwiches in the stores. Why no sandwiches? Because the cheese eventually drips onto the burners, creating an odor that masks the intended "Starbucks smell"...coffee!)

I guess I'm writing this because I totally agree with his "connection concept." If I didn't, I wouldn't do what I do for a living. But I believe the place for people to connect, other than home and work, should be in God's family.

And I've always wondered why this connection rarely occurred, but after reading Schultz's book, I am beginning to understand.

If we all need connection, and God intends for us to be connected in His family, then what kind of "experience" will allow us the optimum opportunity to do so? What should God's church "look" like in order to maximize our opportunity to connect? Scripture states that our worship is a "fragrant aroma" before God, so what should worship "smell" like in order to create an opportunity to "experience" God? What is the "burnt cheese" in your life (or church) that masks the aroma of God, even though, like the coffee, He is still present and excellent?

Just a little coffee talk to get us thinking about how important the little things are when we are trying to connect to God and each other. After all, its pretty important to me to be able to continually "experience" God's presence anew.

Grassroots Ministry

In the wake of the devastating storms that ripped through our area a couple of weeks ago, I continue to hear stories of how the small groups at our church quietly helped so many.

One person told me that after the storms, there were several churches that were in their neighborhood helping cut trees, pull brush, and checking for people. Their neighbors knew that this person was a church-goer and asked, "when is your church going to get here." At that time, one of our small groups arrived to help. This person turned to their friend and said, "they just did." (By the way, this person has never been to our church.)

Last week, I went in for a doctor's visit. Just routine stuff. I actually had an appointment with a nurse practitioner. When she walked in the room, the first thing she said to me was, "your church was at our house this week." She went on to say that a small group from our church had knocked on her door and offered to help with clean up..."at no charge." (she sounded shocked that anyone would help out without asking for something in return)

Story after story, the word continues to get out that our church family helped in so many tangible ways. Whether it was offering money to help storm victims, carrying a chainsaw into a neighborhood where they didn't know a soul, sorting cans at a food bank, taking food to a homeless shelter, carrying ice and water to first responders, or praying with victims, grassroots ministry truly affected a great many lives in incredibly positive ways.

Since grassroots ministry is one how our church family has chosen to do ministry, I thought I'd share a poem that I read a few years back to encourage you that you are doing the right thing . . .

I was hungry and you formed a humanities club to discuss my hunger. . . Thank you.

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel to pray for my release. . . Nice.

I was naked and you debated the morality Of my appearance. . . What good did that do?

I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health. . . But I needed you.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God . . .I wish you'd taken me home.

I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me . . . Why didn't you stay?

You seem so holy, so close to God; but I'm still very hungry, lonely, cold, and still in pain. . . Does it matter?

Anonymous

. . . I hope I can always be part of a church that will help people. We will never be able to meet everyone's needs all the time. But I think God is truly honored by those who will share a cup of cold water with one thirsty soul at a time, and do it all in His name.

To all who helped in so many ways, thank you for letting God work through you in this time of need.

Really?

Okay, let me start this post by restating that I rarely (almost never) write about political issues. This doesn't mean that I'm ignorant of them or that they are disinteresting to me. I just realize that some of my opinions are probably unpopular, and I have a strict policy of only fighting over hills I'm willing to die for...

...Now that my disclaimer is out of the way, my issue is disappointment over the reaction to Osama bin Laden's death. One television commentator suggested that instead of burying him at sea we should have "put this guy in a meat grinder with a pig." Another stated that "hell is certainly much hotter tonight." I saw televised celebrations in the streets that looked eerily similar to the ones in the Middle East when the twin towers fell.

Let me unpack my opinions. Osama bin Laden was a murderer and a terrorist who should have been brought to justice. His demise will cost lives in retaliation, but will save exponentially more. Was this event a political ploy by the President? Probably so. But before we take shots at the President, do you know any other politicians who would not have made the same call if given the same opportunity?

What I find discouraging is the reactions I have seen from some Christians.

Paul Brandeis Raushernbush with the Huffington Post wrote, "Osama bin Laden has exemplified the absolute worst of religion. He was a zealot in his own belief and willing to kill those who believed differently; he recruited young people into his ranks by preying on their despair; and he carried out violence in the name of God. Osama bin Laden profaned the name of God and denigrated all people of faith."

I definitely believe bin Laden was evil. But I fear some Christians have forgotten that evil doesn't have a face. And I fear that in our joy at justice being done, some have become what we despise...angry zealots who preach a love for God and practice hate toward the ones he created in His image.

Please remember that the cornerstone of the Christian faith is mercy. And remember that although hell is a real place, if we proclaim to be a people who are dedicated to rescuing souls from hell, we should never take joy in the idea that someone might be destined for it.

What happened this past weekend was earthly justice being served. However, eternal justice is far over our pay grade. As Christians, we should be happy to allow God to be "God," and even happier that we are not gods.

I hope we will always remember that we are sinners saved by a merciful God, that love never rejoices in unrighteousness but rejoices in truth, that life is precious to God and His Son died for everyone (even bin Laden), and that hell is the ultimate in maximum torture and despair...therefore it's the same temperature this week as it was the last.


You have heard that it was said, "YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR and hate your enemy. But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:43-48)

A Proud Moment

Last Sunday after church, I was supposed to go to a fund raising luncheon for the local Kiwanis Club. Fried chicken dinners are an occupational hazard, as you may know. I intended to go, until my son asked if I would go to lunch with him and some of his friends.

If you are a parent of a teen, you are aware that a teenage boy rarely wants dad tagging along. When those moments arise, you have to take advantage of them. So on this day, I would bite the bullet, let someone else have my chicken and ham dinner with all the fixings, and go with my son.

I ended up sitting several tables away from him with some other parents. Suddenly, a young (inexperienced) waitress, who was waiting on our table, came out with a food tray that was overloaded (to say the least). Just as she passed behind my son, the tray became unbalanced and food went everywhere.

You find out a great deal about people when the unexpected happens. The young girl was nearly in tears, on her hands and knees trying to clean up this colossal mess. Some of the boys at the table were oblivious, never seeing what had occurred. Others watched her with a silly grin on their face (in their words: "you know...because she was, like, pretty and stuff"). A couple of boys verbally made fun of her, within earshot no less.

My son got up out of his chair, got on his knees alongside the young lady, and helped her clean up her mess. He told her it was okay and that this sort of thing happens to everyone at some point. All I could think of while watching Average Joe Jr. was, "I'm so proud of him...he's been paying attention." ...

... Prior to this happening, I had just finished teaching about the difference between "doing acts of service," and "being a servant."

Usually, in a Christian setting, when we "do acts of service," we are doing something that we WANT to do. We may see it as a need, but also we see it as something we have chosen to do because it interests us. We may even possess unique skills to do this type of service. And please don't misunderstand me, this type of service is God-honoring and perfectly pleasing to Him.

But when we choose to "be a servant," we are willing to go outside our comfort zone, see the opportunities to serve, and meet them in spite of their uncomfortable nature.

There is a difference! ...

My son has given me many proud moments. But I'm not sure I have ever been as proud of him as I was on this Sunday afternoon. As long as I live, I'll never forget how I felt watching him get on his knees to serve.

I'm sure our Father in heaven feels the same way when we become "servants."

Mr. Roth

I would like to share a story with you that I read recently. It is written by an unknown author. . .

. . . An old man showed up at the back door of the house we were renting. Opening the door a few cautious inches, we saw his eyes were glassy and his furrowed face glistened with silver stubble. We were certain that he was either homeless, an alcoholic, or both. He clutched a wicker basket holding a few unappealing vegetables. He bid us good morning and offered his produce for sale. We were uneasy enough to make a quick purchase to alleviate both our pity and our fear.

To our chagrin, he returned the next week, introducing himself as Mr. Roth, the man who lived in the shack down the road. As our fears subsided, we got close enough to realize that it wasn't alcohol, but cataracts, that marbleized his eyes.

On subsequent visits, he would shuffle in, wearing two mismatched right shoes and pull out a harmonica. With glad eyes set on a future glory, he'd puff out old gospel tunes between conversations about vegetables and religion.

On one visit, he exclaimed, "The Lord is so good! I came out of my shack this morning and found a bag full of shoes and clothing on my front porch."

"That's wonderful, Mr. Roth," we said. "We're happy for you."

"You know what is even more wonderful?" he asked.

"Just yesterday I met some people that could use them." . . .

It is not uncommon for poor people to be generous. As a matter of fact, poor people are probably the most generous people on earth. What makes this' story all the more beautiful is that in this man's poverty, he served other's needs rather than his own.

Truth is, terms like small and large, tall and short, attractive and homely, rich and poor are relative terms. What is rich to one man is poor to another. In the case of Mr. Roth, poverty was something of which he considered himself immune. Why?

The story answers the question quite well. He had his eyes set on a future glory. Mr. Roth was rich in spirit. When we long to see Jesus face to face, this world seems to lose its appeal and importance.

So I encourage you to be like Mr. Roth, honestly assess your own needs, serve others, and set your eyes on a future glory. You may be amazed at how effective your personal ministry will become. And who knows, maybe you will entertain angels without knowing it?

"And now, brothers, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the saints." (2 Corinthians 8:1-4)

Starbuckese...

My daughter is an employee of Starbucks. I came to the realization that Starbucks was taking over the world three years ago when I was in Washington D.C. I walked out of a Starbucks, looked across the street and saw...you guessed it...a Starbucks!

One thing I've learned about Starbucks is that they have their own language. I call it "Starbuckese." They use the terms Tall (English for, well you probably can figure this out on your own), Grande (Spanish for really big), and Venti (Italian for 20...which is coincidentally the number of ounces of this drink). Don't ask me why they mix their languages in their insider code, because I don't know...I just guess they have their reasons.

However, I didn't really know how indepth the lingo was until I happened to visit Starbucks with my daughter, "O." We walked into the store, and she boldly steps right up to the counter, gets the attention of the barista (another fancy word, meaning "coffee fetcher"), and says..."I'll have a latte...tall, double non-fat, extra foam, extra hot, half-caf, with a half pump of chocolate." The barista began writing the "insider code" for all of these instructions on the side of O's paper cup. Quite frankly, I'm not sure if she knew how to do this, since some of the hieroglyphics included a question mark and an image resembling a rather obscene gesture.

Be that as it may, it was obvious that my little girl had acquired the all-important keys to the Starbucks kingdom, simply because she knew the language.

Now comes my turn to order. And, yes, I'm intimidated. I step up an sheepishly say, "I'd like a small cup of coffee, please." After O's order, I expected the barista to be relieved that I had made such a simple request. However, her expression said otherwise... "You ain't a regular around here, are ya' big boy?" I've never felt like more of an outsider...

...I guess I'm writing this because Christians can be guilty of the same thing. We have our words, expressions, and little "inside jokes," that only we understand. We have been around the church and her folks so long that we have developed our own language. Problem is, we sometimes forget that there are people that we are trying to "connect to God and each other" who, not only do not understand our lingo, but feel like outsiders because of it.

This experience made me think about how powerful our expressions can be and how important it is to find a way to tear down any walls that make "seekers" feel like outsiders.

Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. (Colossians 4:5)

Hidden Pictures.

It used to be a Sunday morning ritual. I would go out to get the paper, and promptly look at three sections: Sports, Dear Abby, and the Sunday Comics. I never outgrew the Sunday comics. It just seems that the best way to start your day is with a laugh. I did this for years, right up until they started publishing those “hidden picture” puzzles.

You see, there was (is?) this thing in the comics where you are supposed to look at this series of dots and squiggly lines and see a hidden picture. The directions tell you to put the picture to your nose, slowly move it away from your face, and Eureka…you will see the hidden picture! The problem is that I have yet to see anything except dots and squiggly lines.

There were times in department stores when my friends and I would walk up on one of these works of "trainwreck art." After sharing that I can't see anything, they would say, "you mean you don't see that dinosaur eating the Buick LeSabre?!?!" And I’d just stand there feeling like a third grader trying to do Chinese arithmetic.

I was recently encouraged to find out that some people can see these images and others cannot. It has to do with their eyesight development. So it's not my fault that I cannot see the hidden picture, my eyes just aren't developed for it…and that’s my parent’s fault, right?. . .

. . . My frustration when trying to see the hidden pictures has made me a more understanding Bible teacher. I realize the angst and aggravation involves in not seeing things the way others do. There are things in the Bible that seem as clear as a Time magazine photo, and nearly everyone gets it. Yet, there are some things in there that are like the hidden picture; some folks see them and others do not.

If I have just described you, here's some advice. Don't allow your frustration to rob you of your joy in God's word. . . just wait for God to develop you. Don't give up trying to see the unseen, it's worth the effort. And just because something is unclear doesn't mean that it's too "deep" for you. . . it may just be "muddy. No matter what, don't give up!