My Morning Coffee

If you're like millions of Americans you drink a cup of coffee in the morning. It has become a ritual for so many of us, me included. Coffee has replaced apple pie as the center piece of conversation. Check out your local coffee shop and you will see people sitting down, sharing stories, enjoying a smile with each other over their favorite joe.

I love coffee. A really good cup of joe has a truly great flavor and stimulates my palette like no other. I love Peet's Coffee the best. Its like mud, rich with flavor, and reminds me of the what is good in life. If you haven't tried Peet's, you're really missing something special. As a cautionary note, the first time I tried it I didn't like it so give it time.

But this isn't about coffee that way. Not after last night. I was checking out VolunteerMatch a week ago and found a really great opportunity to work for Oxfam at the Coldplay concert. Chris Martin, the lead singer, for those who live outside of the pop culture planet, is passionate about Oxfam and supports them at the concerts. I have to admit I went for the desire to serve but was swayed by the idea of a free concert. It just seemed like a great pairing of ideas. I like Coldplay but I don't own any of their CDs.

But this isn't about Coldplay either. Its about coffee. But its not about coffee the way you think its about coffee. Its about the people who grow coffee. You see Oxfam has identified one of the key components to world poverty. Coffee. Don't get me wrong. Coffee is not the cause. Its just part of the problem. You see 90% of the world makes a living growing agriculture. Most people around work a little piece of land to grow something and sell it at the local marketplace. They've done this for millenniums. Its just the way it is.

So where's the coffee come in? Well, people grow coffee. Local farmers in countries like Belize, Honduras, and Uganda grow coffee and sell it in the international marketplace. They must compete on price just like the rest of the world. Sounds simple, right? If you're like me, this just seems like simple economics and capitalism. It should encourage growth and competitiveness. With this information it becomes easy to just walk by the booth and worry about where the nearest bathroom is. Right?

But its still about the coffee. You see the 10 largest countries produce 80 percent of the world's exports. They create consortiums that can produce coffee very effectively. This is still good economics and capitalism.

Next word. Dumping.

Dumping is the real problem. Large consortiums dump large quantities of EXCESS coffee onto the marketplaces, driving the prices down to extreme lows and the little guy completely out of business. These families have never done anything else. They end up bankrupt and in extreme poverty, which means they live on less than one dollar a day. That's less than my venti drip with room for cream.

But there is no way this can be happening in America. Unfortunately it is. America subsidizes 24 billion a year to overproduce crops which flood international marketplaces. And they don't just hurt the other guys half way across the world. The rural American farmer, which the subsidies were originally meant for, are going out of business too.

Its really easy, right about now, to just throw up your hands, walk by the booth and say, "there's nothing I can do". And you'd be wrong. There are lots of opportunities to volunteer, write your senator, or just get educated. You can even sign up for the Big Noise Campaign or buy a really cool Make Trade Fair t-shirt.

But that's not the real action you can make. To really get practical, to really help the poor begins with your $1.79. Your cup of coffee. Simply ask your local coffee establishment for "fair trade certified coffee". Its that simple. By doing so, you'd be saving the little guy and feeling that much better about a great cup of joe.

Laugh With Me

As I look back on my life, the memories that seemed to stand out to me are when I was laughing. I can remember the moments at family dinners or over a beer with friends where something inside of me just allowed me to laugh. Not just a little laugh at a funny joke, but the kind of laugh that fills your belly. The kind that makes you cry and realize that I was meant to laugh.

This weekend I went to Spokane for a weekend residency for my Master's Program. I met some of the greatest people and found them to be engaging, smart, passionate, and also willing to laugh. I had the best time. At night, we would go to Fast Eddies and have a beer and tell stories, and laugh. I remember walking home last night, the cold biting my face, my cheeks hurting. And I remember thinking to myself, "Thanks God for laughter".

So laugh with me. Lets find the funniest, most hilarious, filled with joy stories that make us laugh together. Isn't that what makes community so special? I think so.

A Voice In The Wilderness

Today is one of those days that you wait decades for. This morning, I attended a workshop with a friend, given by a gentleman named Reggie McNeal. Reggie wrote the book The Present Future about the cultural shift happening in the church in response to post-modernism. His thesis was that we must move out of doing church and be the church. There is a growing body of work that lends credibility to idea of the movement, or shift, depending on who you talk to.

To really understand the moment you have to understand that the feelings espoused in the missional church are not new in general. But, they have been brewing and stirring in my heart for as long as I have been following Jesus. Something has always been just a little bit plastic about the church and too well packaged. A thin veneer has covered it, just thin enough that I could not quite get my hands around it. When you're in it, it feels like going to sleep in you bed after sweating real hard. You know something is there but its not bad enough to take care of it.

Reggie spent time really addressing some of the underlying themes that have plagued the church and destroyed its credibility. The suburban/historical church has essentially become a club that you sign up for a pay dues for. I smiled realizing that I could enjoy the fact that he said it and not me.

As I sat there in my seat my body grew numb. Not from a rejection of the content. Quite the opposite. It was a radical response to someone else saying what I had been feeling forever and doing something about it. That was important but not what really struck me and left me in a deep state of wonder. As I looked around during the workshop I began to notice that the average age of the group was probably fifty. This was radical to me because these were the people within the traditional structures of power, and they were engaged.

Which lead me to really believe we were on to something. You see, the principal message of the missional church is to connect people to loving their neighbor. This is cool, but is goes deeper than that. I validates a deeper truth that I have been exploring. When you connect people to the truth, which is that we are designed to love, you connect them to hope, to purpose, and to what ignites something within them intrinsically. Some won't get it, but for those who do watch out.

Reggie is like a voice in the wilderness to me, but what I am realizing is that he is not the only voice in the wilderness out there. There are many, and as he said, they are bubbling up from the ground, with a message people are ready to hear.

A Walk In The Night

Tonight was an interesting experience. I usually walk my dog Kipper late at night and listen to podcasts of various rabbis and mentors I consider important and required reading for my life. I walk around the golf course to the beginning of the third hole and then turn back around. Its normally about a 35 minute walk.

Tonight I was sitting at the table and wanting to spend some time with my kids. I mentioned the idea of taking Kipper for a walk and they all shouted, "Yeah!" It was a date.

We bundled up and headed out the door, everyone's eyes peering out from their parkas. Folsom is cold in the winter because it is so close to the Sierras. We brought a flashlight and a light saber for light. It was fun.

We walked around the course and looked at the stars, prentended to dance on the light and sang songs. My children seemed to bring a sense of clarity about me. They seemed to show me that I was a a pivotal force in their life. It was just me and my kids, and it was great.

On the way back, my daughter saw the divot repair bottles that were close to the tees. She grabbed one and my first instinct was to tell her to put it back. I stopped and let her look at it, and explained what it was for. They were all curious. As we walked back towards the house we stopped by the tee box and I noticed the divots on the grass. My daughter asked if she could fill them.

There are moments when things seem to come together and this is one of them. I told them all to grab a bottle and they bolted back to the stand grabbing one as though they were getting candy. We spent the next ten minutes filling the divots the golfers had left behind. They were filled with joy, and for such a simple little thing.

On the way back we had an absolutely amazing conversation about how we are made by God to love other people. This was just one way we could help. I explained how we weren't doing it for us but for other people. What was amazing was that they didn't care. They liked the idea of serving other people.

I walked home with a smile on my face. Something had happened and I was a part of it. It was one of those moments that the truth had shown its face to me and I was there to see it.

I walked away convinced that within each of us there is the capacity and design to love. I saw it in my kids. Not just one of them, but all three of them. All I had to do was show them the way.

Learning to Love

My wife and I are exploring what Jesus meant when he said love your neighbor. It seems like such a simple but radical concept when you think about it. How many of us love our neighbor? My wife and I really wanted to find something that we could engage our kids in with us. We wanted to explore this as a family so we could discuss it over dinners and let them explore this with us. We wanted to find a way to make it real for us and for them.

Loving your neighbor is an interesting concept. In my previous neighborhood, I barely knew the guy three doors down, let alone loved him. I remember moving in and a guy that lived across the street brought us brownies as a welcoming gift. It was really awesome to feel welcomed but I never saw the guy again though. He moved a little bit later.

The other guys across the street was also nice but it always felt he had an agenda, as though our conversations would lead to some political vote for something I was yet aware of. His palms were sometimes sweaty and he had a grin about him that made me wonder. He was always looking around waiting for the next neighbor. I confess I didn't really understand the guy, nor did I know him.

In my new neighborhood, everything feels great. I really do love my neighbors, in sort of a great community sense. But as my wife and I talked about it, they don't need much. Not in the way I think Jesus meant it. Everyone has a good job, and most have great kids that play with our kids. It is really a great community. Most of my neighbors actually know Jesus and are involved in some kind of church. I know they would be there for me if I needed it, and they know I would be there for them if they needed it. The problem is that none of us ever really need it.

In high school, my pastor was always talking about going to Africa for missions, as if my neighbor was someone on the other side of the world. This never really made sense to me, and left me pondering. For me, I don't find myself wanting to go to Africa, unless it means going to a Safari. I read an article recently that Africa now has more Christian's that the U.S. does, so I thought it was more practical to go next door or some place local. When ever someone would talk about missions, I would think about how much it would cost just to get there and then think what that could do for the guy who really needed it here. There was a need here wasn't there.

In college, I did experience a missions trip to Mexico with some friends. We went to a border town in Jalisco and played games with the kids, handed out used clothing, and washed some fo the youth who really neeeded it. But the experience has an economic feel to it. I was out to get something from the experience. I did walk away from it with a better sense of myself, as though I had done my part and could now go back to school and not feel guilty about partying. It felt as though God would give me a pardon for my partying because I had served the poor. My card was punched. As I reflected on this experience, I wanted something without the economic exchange, something deeper.

A friend of mine mentioned to me a couple of weeks ago that he helped serve with a local homeless shelter. He was even able to include his kids in the process and they loved it. I took my family last week really wanting to just love, to be available to whatever was in the moment. I didn't want any economic return out of it. I just wanted to love. When we got there, there were more volunteers than homeless people. There was nothing to do. I tried not to be disappointed but I was.

As I drove home with my family, looking for some place to grab a Taco, I reflected on the experience. What it did show me was that I live in a pretty safe world. Outside of this little homeless shelter, there isn't another place like this. The fact that I live in a community that has little to no homeless should be a good thing. Folsom is also home to one of the nation's most famous prisons, made famous by Johnny Cash. But in reality, I don't hear about the prison at all Its neatly placed behind the hills and you have to really look to notice its even there. A good friend of mine works there but I don't see him much beyond days at the clubhouse pool, and it never seems to come up.

As I munched on my Taco that evening, around our Pier One glass table in our convenient breakfast nook, I wrestled with my own experience with need. It made me wonder if I had created a cocoon around my family to insulate us from a world that needed love. I really didn't know anyone with needs in the traditional sense. I didn't know anyone who wondered where their next meal came from or how they were going to pay for the lights. Suburbia had driven me to a pretty safe life.

I'm not brow beating myself. I am in the beginning stages of exploring what I believe is what I am created for, to love. But in that journey, I am beginning to wonder what walls I have created for myself that keep me from being who I am.

Jesus calls us to love the poor, the sick, the broken-hearted, and the fatherless. I wonder if by selecting those who have no capacity to give back with anything other than a smile, we can remove the economics from it all. By removing the economics, or return on investment, I wonder if I will discover something deeper about giving than I am presently aware of. I say that with an expectation of "yes". When I really think about it I think people like Mother Theresa, who serve those in greatest need, had to know something more than I do. There just has to be something deeper there that would allow them to serve in what is widely considered "hell on earth". I wanted to discover that something.

But to do so requires me to tear down my walls, and to enter an unsafe world. A world that is messy. Am I ready for messy? I want to be. Oh this heart of mine.

Tonight I found this really great ministry organizations called Angel Food Ministries. My heart leaped for some reason. It seemed like a really great idea that I could explore with my family. The idea is fairly simple and the volunteers simply help distribute food to the poor who need it. I like the simplicity of it. I like the name, the idea, and that I can bring my children with me.

We'll see what happens.