Incarnational Coffee!
Can something as ordinary as coffee point to something deeper?
I love coffee. I make it every day.
Carys loves coffee too.
In the morning its coffee for me, before anyone else wakes up. In the afternoon its always coffee for two.
Can something as ordinary as coffee point to something deeper?
I think yes.
Sat here on the sofa, beginning this thought-experiment, I can think of several reasons why brewing and drinking coffee is a profoundly theological act.
Two thoughts for you.
1. Coffee is an opportunity for connection.
In amongst the busyness of launching a business, the ups and downs of parenting, the rush of starting new things, juggling church planting and planning for the year ahead, I’ve been grateful for the simple, grounding opportunity to drink coffee with friends and with Carys.
Over the past year, I’ve been meeting regularly with one good friend for coffee. We talk about the deep stuff and the fun stuff, the big life choices, the quirks of church life, the good and the bad, and everything in between. We’re nearly ten years apart in age, yet we share a love for good coffee, for Jesus, and for long conversations. It’s been a joy.
This opportunity for connection helps me makes sense of why Jesus often taught over meals, and why the early church gathered around food and drink. I sometimes wonder how often they would have frequented coffee shops if they’d existed back then.
Maybe we’d have had a parable called “The Barista Who Went to Brew”, or a request from the Apostle Paul for some decent coffee while in prison. Who knows?
Nowadays, coffee and coffee shops are a cultural phenomenon. And I hope it lasts. The café has become a kind of modern agora, the ancient marketplace. A place for connection, crossover, conversation, gathering, and work.
In a fragmented world, connection is more compelling than ever. And maybe, just maybe, a theology of coffee begins there: in the midst of ordinary life, in the clinking of mugs, the quiet hum of presence, and the joy of good company.
At its best, coffee becomes more than just a drink, it becomes a context for koinonia, the deep fellowship that marked the early church (Acts 2:42).
I’ve certainly experienced this. I’ve found in these ordinary rhythms – sitting across a table, telling stories, asking questions, laughing, praying – that we have an opportunity to be the brothers and sisters we are called by God to be.
And it is good news. Christ meets us not only in cathedrals and communion, but in cafés and conversations. Because when two or three gather he is there among them.
Incarnational coffee?! Who knew!
2. Coffee is an opportunity to slow things down.
More often than not, I've found making the coffee has brought a necessary chance to hit the pause button, take a breath, and reset.
I actually find making a coffee quite contemplative, almost liturgical. In the quiet of the morning, doing something routine, intentionally slowing down before anyone else wakes up.
For me, there is something almost sacred about those first sips of coffee, with my Bible open, journal to my side, and a quiet moment with God.
15 grams of coffee. 250 grams of water. 2-3 minutes.
Grind the beans. Boil the water. Rinse the filter paper.
Put the coffee into a filter. Shake to level the bed.
Initial pour over the coffee allowing it to ‘bloom’. Slow and Steady.
Pause. Pour again.
Pause. Pour again.
Allow the coffee to drain through.
Drink.
You may be thinking that is a little excessive. Why not just use a coffee pod or pull a quick espresso shot?
Valid point. But firstly, this method produces the best tasting coffee. Secondly, so much of my life is characterised by busyness and this way of brewing makes me slow down.
In a world obsessed with speed and productivity, slowing down might even be considered a spiritual act of resistance.
As John Mark Comer reflects:
“Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day.”
Why not use my morning coffee slot as an opportunity for contemplation, prayer, or presence? Unless the baby is screaming of course, then it's all out of the window!
I love Tish Harris’ reflection on being seeing everyday moments as opportunities to connect with the Creator and become like Jesus.
“God is forming us into a new people. And the place of that formation is in the small moments of today.”
What might those small moments of today be for you?
It might not be coffee, but there will be something. Why not claim that as an opportunity for devotion?
For me, in the small act of grinding beans or waiting for water to boil, I have, imperfectly, captured an opportunity to, as the Psalmist writes,
“Be still, and know that I am God”.
And I really need that.
Here's a snapshot of the 'brewing process' (somewhat ironically very sped up!)