The Epistle to Starbucks

In order to get to know one another quickly, the mentor at my EfM formation training last week asked us to tell each other two core values by which we try to live. It was hard to narrow it down to two. I thought about the five promises in the baptismal covenant.  And, then there are the two great commandments to love God and our neighbor as ourselves.  I did narrow it down finally. The first was “Trust God and work your butt off,” which was the sum total of my business plan for my association management and event planning company.  (I know, it wouldn’t pass muster in an MBA class, but it worked for me.)  The other was “All shall be well,” the well-known phrase given to us by Julian of Norwich. It’s my breath prayer and has saved me from losing my temper on countless occasions.  

Core values are the operating system for individuals, corporations, associations, churches – well, just about everything I guess.  They are what define us, describe how we live with one another, and connect us to the world outside our imaginations.  When you look at the selection from Paul’s letter to the Romans, it appears to be a recitation of the core values of being a Christian.

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.

Then, he creates the list of actions/objectives to follow in order to be true to those values.

·         “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering . . .”

·         “do not be haughty”

·          “never avenge yourself”

·         “feed and give drink to your enemies”

·         “do not claim to be wiser than you are”

·         “overcome evil with good”

So, call it coincidence, or God-incidence, or just plain ‘spooky’ that the quarterly newsletter from the Convent of the Transfiguration arrived in my mailbox this week.  In it was an article by Sister Alice about spiritual insights and growth given to one of the sisters by the book Onward: How Starbucks Fought for its Life.  I was intrigued.  She stated that “for a company that many associate with upscale indulgence, the Starbucks mission is not about making money hand over fist.  Rather, it’s about people.  Starbucks mission statement is “To inspire and nurture the human spirit one person, one cup, and one neighborhood at a time.”

Holy Frappacino Batman!   It appears that God is in my venti, half-caf, skinny, mocha latte!!

Like Paul, in the letter to the Romans, after stating the mission, Starbucks then laid out its action plan for achieving its mission:

·         ethically source the finest coffee beans and improve the lives of the people who grow them

·         embrace diversity and treat each other with respect and dignity

·         engage, connect, and uplift the lives of our customers, even if just for a few moments

·         be a haven, a break from the worries outside, a place where you can meet with friends

·         be a force for positive action in our communities.

With very little editing, the Starbucks Way could be a mission statement and action plan for a Christian community that also keeps people awake during the sermon!  (No wonder the mega churches put Starbucks in their lobbies!)  However, we need to keep in mind that while Starbucks is concerned about humanity – and that in itself is not a bad thing – Jesus wants us to set our minds on divine things.

I did a little experiment.  I asked my Facebook friends to tell me their core values.  I got some great feedback.  Their comments were

·         Integrity, honesty, respecting the dignity of every human being

·         Respect, honesty, courage. In that order.

·         Love, of course.

·         Repair of the world.

·         Live abundantly and assist others to do likewise.

·         Frugality not without charity.

·         Hope, faith, and love.

Every response was heartfelt and positive.  Every response was good.  They were more than good.  But, then, so was Peter’s response to Jesus.  “God forbid that anything horrible ever happen to you.”  Peter loved Jesus.  He was doing what a good friend should do – provide support and kindness in a time of uncertainty.  Jesus loved Peter too.  But, Peter was missing the message.  His support and love, while good and probably most appreciated, was not putting the glory of God at the forefront.  That’s what was wrong.  That’s why Jesus reacted the way he did.

I’m sure Peter was crestfallen.  He really wanted to do the right thing, say the right words.  He thought he did. Then, Jesus calls him Satan.  Peter just didn’t get it.  We usually don’t get it either.  I think back to my two value statements.  Trust God and work your butt off.  All shall be well.  Both are all well and good, yet they beg the questions:  “For whom?”  “For what?”

If I’m going to be honest with myself, both values serve my own interests.  Working hard brought me clients and contracts.  Working hard allows me to pay the bills.  Understanding that, from an eternal point-of-view, all shall be well helps me keep healthy perspective under stress.  Striving to live up to their values, my Facebook friends probably find their lives work a little more smoothly and the world around them is a better place when their values are fully employed. But, how do these values glorify God or spread the good news of Christ?  That’s what prompted Jesus’ response to Peter.  Staying safe, not challenging the authorities would have allowed Jesus to live a fine, happy life, but that was not how God was to be glorified. 

I’ve spent the week thinking about how those values I identified do that.  While I’m sure that they do, I can honestly say that the glory of God and the good news of Christ were not on my radar screen.  Starbucks mission, noble as it is, isn’t about the glory of God.

We are obligated, by our baptismal vows, by our ordination vows, to glorify God and proclaim the gospel first and foremost.  We are to proclaim the gospel by word and example.  Deacons are to, in all things, seek not their glory, but the glory of the Lord Christ. Priests are to offer all our labors to God.  Bishops are to testify to Christ’s sovereignty.  As a dear friend reminded me on the eve of my priesting, “Remember, it’s not about you.”

I’m not calling anyone Satan though.  Following Jesus just isn’t easy.  He requires us to be honest with ourselves and our motives. He asks us to be who we are for God’s sake, not just for our own selves.  We should regularly examine what we are doing in our ministries and ask ourselves if we are doing something just to make ourselves feel good or are we really putting the glory of God first and foremost.  Are we as a community of faith inspiring and nurturing our spirit in order to proclaim the gospel?  Do we share this cup for solace only and not for strength?  Do we take our nourished selves into our neighborhoods in order to be of service to God by serving others?

Identify your core values.  They are important. Do it for yourself, for your family, for your workplace.  Make an action plan so that you know how you’ll live into those values.  Don’t forget to keep God’s divine desire for you in the front of your mind as you do these things.  Remember, it’s not about you.    

Cherry Tomato

Ripe and red the fruit fell from the vine into my hand.

Warm and ripe.

I succumbed to temptation and popped it past my lips.

It exploded as my tongue squished it against the roof of my mouth 

washing seeds and sweetness over my palate.

Oh.  There’s nothing like this delight.

I close my eyes and revel in

Summer’s goodness .

A slender branch of hope

Mother Nature can put on quite a show.  Her latest scene wasn't a summer storm, though.  It was a quiet event, one that would probably been missed if I hadn't taken the dogs out at just the right moment this week.  In my flower garden grow a small group of resurrection lilies.  They're named this because, in the spring, they send out shoots much like an amaryllis does.  Unlike the amaryllis, the shoots turn brown and die leaving the ground bare, as if the greenery was the total show.  Then, later in the summer, long tall stalks break through the ground and pink, trumpet-like blooms grace the tops of them.  It's life after death.

Monday, as I headed out the door with Valium and Prozac (my dogs, not the drugs), I noticed something else at the top of the stalk.  There were two cicadas there.  Wait.  No.  There was only one cicada; the 'second' insect was the shell of its former self. The real cicada was clinging to the stem, gathering strength to go on to its next phase of life.  Again, life after death.

After I walked the dogs and gotten them safely inside the house, I went back to the porch to ponder the scene.  I should have taken a picture.  A better metaphor for faith I don't think I could have concocted.  Behold, one of God's creatures breaking forth into something new, leaving behind that which was a part of itself but no longer able to be carried.  Both the shell and the new self clinging to a slender, flowering stem that had risen from the darkness of the earth. 

To make my way along this path of faith, I may need to shed some things I can no longer afford to carry.  They are the things that keep me from taking wing.  And, when I'm searching for a place to make that transformation, all I need is a slender branch of hope on which to cling. 

No place like home

"Your office is so homey," said a parishioner today.  I smiled.  That's the idea.  Make people feel at home. Of course, some find the place a bit frenetic.  I understand that too.  But, I just can't give the stuff up.  In a few minutes, people know a little more about me: I love the Wizard of Oz, have a 'thing' about cathedrals, collect Jiminy Cricket characters, and am a Chicago Cubs fan.  When they know a little about me, they feel more comfortable sharing their own stories.

I think that hearing others' stories and entering into their lives is the greatest privilege of my vocation. It's important to me to create hospitable space so that people feel comfortable.  The physical space is one thing, spiritual space is another.  Listening requires the ego to set itself aside to make room for the other.  In doing so, we also make room for the divine.  That's a lot more difficult than hanging a painting of Ely Cathedral!

Today, the people who claim to lead our nation find themselves at a standoff.  There is no hospitality.  There is no setting aside of egos.  How can anyone hope to touch the divine energy that is all around them when you refuse to see your colleagues as something less than human.

It makes me want to click my heels and go home.

The fireflies are out. How lovely.

“The fireflies are out.  How lovely.”

The quote is one of the first lines delivered by the character Ethel P. Savage in the play The Curious Savage.  I know because I played Ethel P when I was in high school theater long ago.  She was an eccentric lady with blue hair, a hidden fortune, and a propensity to annoy her children.  Ethel wasn’t the only eccentric lady I was cast as.  Our director also awarded me the role of Veta Louise Simmons in the play Harvey.  (Yeah, the one with the rabbit.)

I loved those characters.  As a teenager who struggled with her emotions, Ethel and Veta provided a way to escape and have fun.  Oh, I played other parts as well, characters who much more closely matched my age at that time, but Ethel and Veta were the most special. 

It was the flash of the fireflies outside my window that made me think of them.  Tonight, I’m much closer in age to those characters than I was when I played them.  Then, I modeled my portrayal from observing my own grandmothers – how they walked, and moved, and told stories.  Now, I’d be able to play them from my own experience.  Ethel’s anger would be more prominent as she’s being abandoned by family who should have loved her; her empathy deeper for those who struggle.  Veta’s exasperation at her fate may be played less for comedy and more for sympathy.  My observances of people in the context of my several callings would inform these characters now.  Art imitates life.  Regardless, the delivery would still make an audience laugh out loud.

Perhaps, some day, I’ll get the chance to play these two again. If not, I’ll reminisce and perhaps someday appear in public with a delightful shade of blue hair. It goes with everything.

© CBPark 2011 All rights reserved.

Learning from wilderness encounters

It lives like a pig. It grunts and runs in a herd. It smells like a skunk dipped in balsamic vinagrette.   No, it’s not your teenager. It’s a javelina.

These critters were escaping the Arizona sun while I was at a continuing education conference in May.  They’d hunkered down beneath the walkway between the sleeping rooms and the building where our worship space had been situated.  I was headed toward my room after lunch to grab my notebook and evidently my stomping up the steps roused them from their siesta.  The herd – Mama, Papa, and all of the baby ‘linas – took off toward the brush that lay just west of the dormitory, stinking and grunting as they ran. 

The last time I’d had such a close encounter with wildlife was in 2001 in Yellowstone National Park.  A bison, obviously having no intention of going anywhere, greeted me one morning as I walked from my cabin to the Old Faithful Inn.  I said “excuse me I believe you live here” and took the long way around.  It’s good to be reminded that human beings aren’t the only creatures on this planet that need space to roam or rest.  But, human beings do need to roam and rest.  That was the point of my education week. 

We need space to explore our past and plan for our future.  We need to take time to rest and reflect in order to be refreshed.  It’s too hard to do these things when we get stuck in our routine or are disturbed by every startling interruption.  So, be intentional about carving a little time out to get away no matter who you are or where you are in your life.  You may not see a javelina or a bison, but you might be surprised at what you do see.