Our Lady of Starbucks: Coffee Cups and Building Community

A few years ago, the Panera Bread in my neighborhood went through a controversial remodel. Out went the nest of individual four-top tables in the middle of the restaurant, and, in their place, came one long community table in Last Supper dimensions. Apparently, large Bible study groups who frequently used the Panera for their meetings were also cobbling together one long table from the old individual four-top tables, causing a lot of disruption for the other restaurant patrons who were, perhaps,  more interested in their Asian Chicken Salad and not so much in the book of Kings.  

It's not unusual for church meetings to spill out into the parking lots and cafes that are nearby. I can't count the number of times that a post-Sunday service chat in the churchyard turned into a longer coffee conversation at Le Pan Quotidien. But, just this week, while I was standing in line for my double espresso at the neighborhood Starbucks, I witnessed something amazing. It started with the woman in line in front of me. I've seen her there often, and as I got into line, she was mid-conversation with two gentlemen who were sitting at a table opposite the cash register. One of the gentlemen, an Ethiopian man in his 60s, was reading a newspaper, and the other was a younger white man who looked to be in his 30s. They were asking how this woman's husband was doing. It sounded as if he'd been plagued by some health problems of late. She asked after the older man's children, to which he responded with a nod and a quick, "they're OK". Soon, it was the woman's turn at the register and Mary, the barista who's been there for years, also asked after the woman's husband.  By the time I'd gotten my order and was on the way to the milk station, the woman had joined the two gentlemen at their table. There was a crisis, involving another of their coffee club who hadn't been seen for a few weeks, and soon the talk turned to putting together money to send to him and his family. These people had all met at that Starbucks and had forged their own community where they come together, take care of each other, discuss their joys and concerns and cares, and do good works. That sounds an awful lot like a church to me! 

So what does this mean for church life? Is the Starbucks my church's new competition? Does my church have to up its coffee game for the coffee hour? Should Sunday service abandon the church pew and opt, instead, for tables and chairs set to the sonic backdrop of the latest Beck CD? Maybe.

Yes, I said maybe, but it's not as absurd as it seems. We all just want to be more connected to each other. We hunger for that connection. Facebook and Instagram, with their infinite tagging, are the electronic equivalent of me grabbing you by the shoulder and saying, "look, we share something, we are connected!" But walk into a traditional church on a Sunday and you see the architecture of disconnection and separation. Rows of pews and an aisle cut right down the middle separate us from each other. And so we go to a Starbucks, or Mischa's or Cosi, grab a coffee, pull up a chair and create community. We talk to each other and we listen to each other, and the barriers of race, class, age, and education recede into the background as we break bread together (or a slice of Starbucks iced lemon pound cake). Maybe we can take these lessons of caffeinated community and bring them back into our sanctuaries. Until then, may Our Lady of Starbucks fill the cup of life with a double shot of love and joy and community:)