Barista King

My Sunday morning routine often finds me alone with my thoughts at a local Starbucks. My time there is a unique balance of business and solitude.

Personally, I sit with my sermon, making the final edits. Around me however the coffee shop is a constant hum of busy movement. Very few people actually come in and sit down, but the many employees scurry around filling people’s insanely expensive sugary and over-caffeinated drinks. Occasionally I peek my head up out of my computer to ask whether or not the person behind the counter would actually care about the point I’m trying to make. I’ll spare you my answer.

This past Sunday I was working on my mediocre masterpiece when a homeless man wandered in from the cold. He walked up to the counter and began speaking with the barista. From his accent he sounded Eastern European.

The young man behind the counter stopped what he was doing and engaged his new customer. It was obvious that this man was in need of something, but there was a communication barrier. At first, the barista tried to make drinks and talk at the same time. He soon realized that would not work. 

Then something simply amazing happened. He stopped everything he was doing, looked the man in the eye and truly listened to him. After a few more attempts, with drink tickets piling up in the background, he finally understood. The man needed a place to charge his phone. When the barista showed him where the outlets were, the man asked a simple question: “How long can I sit here?” The Barista, still with grace-filled eyes, responded: “You are welcome here as long as you need.” 

It was such a simple gesture, but in a culture that is prone to self-centeredness and business, I saw a glimpse of a better way. I saw a glimpse of the Kingdom.

The book of Deuteronomy lays out what Israel should look for in a king. While the book has long been thought of being Moses’ final words to Israel before they entered Canaan, most biblical scholars see it as a much later work, reflecting a desire for Judah to reorient itself leading up to, during, and coming out of Babylonian captivity.

It appears that Judah’s leadership had gotten off track. They had broken the backs of the poor for their own gain, wealth, and power. Therefore, Deuteronomy commands that the king not amass wealth for himself, nor should he submit his people to slavery. He is to be a king of and for the people.

Today is election day in the United States. It looks like we are in for another doozy. No matter where one may fall on the political spectrum, I think most of us would agree that we have fallen into the same trap as Judah. Our leaders, called to the highest positions in the world, have used that power to bolster their own wealth and power. And again, it has often come on the backs of the marginalized.

Rather than push against this, many Christians have not only tolerated it, but we have fueled it. We blindly support candidates who trample the needy, who arouse fear of the outsider, who amass for themselves tremendous wealth and power. The church has responded to these sins by putting their signs in our yards, attending their rallies, and, worst of all, somehow claiming this corruption has been ordained by God. I fear for America. But I fear more for the church in America. 

It’s hard for sure, but let me try to take the plank out of my own eye while I’m busy throwing these stones. Most of the readers of RJ have some sort of leadership role. Whether it be at home, church, work, or another area, we are a leadership kind of people. And my encounter at Starbucks has made me look in the mirror as much as Washington DC. Who am I in this for? What are my motives? And who do my decisions best serve?

I turned 50 last week. And if I am honest much of my early career was about me. How could I grow, how could I advance, how could I prosper? But my experiences have reminded me that there is a better way. There is a Kingdom. And in this upside down Kingdom the first become last, and the greatest become the least. In this Kingdom, God becomes a vulnerable human and true life only comes through sacrifice and death.

I certainly pray that God would move the church to open its eyes to the idolatry of our politics. I pray just as fervently that God would open my eyes to make my life decisions in a way that raises the weak, that welcomes the stranger, that sacrifices my unneeded gain for the benefit of the other. 

I have already cast my vote, but if I hadn’t, there might have been a certain barista at Starbucks, a man who dropped everything to listen to someone in need, who might have been surprised to learn that he had at least one vote for President.