Christian Coffee Shop Notes

I sit in a stuffed chair in a Christian coffee shop.

Christian reggae plays.

The barista appears as a tired, long-haired angel, if angels wore noserings and clubbed until dawn before their morning shift.

Before I leave, I’ll stash some of my secular books in the lending library. I’m sure they’ll be removed forthwith, although the rain book has plenty of Christian iconography. I was a preacher’s kid after all.

Several Bible groups meets around large square tables.

Curiously, ESPN plays on three flatscreen televisions hanging from the rafters among wooden crosses wrapped in white Christmas lights. Why not CBN? I guess management understands the proper religious hierarchy when it comes to Gods and spiritual programming.

A street minister in blue jeans comes in wearing a Bluetooth and discusses his work with the homeless camped near the swamp in tents and tepees and dog igloos. He is trying to help them live a more ecologically attuned life, meaning getting along with the beavers by not stealing their food.

One wonders if America’s staggering homelessness is remotely solvable as a social calamity.

I notice a Dictionary of Paul’s Letters. I must possess that book although I’ll certainly never read it because Paul is far and away my least favorite character in the Bible. I even like Pontius Pilate and Pharaoh more than Paul.

Surrounded by Christianity, my mind returns to my years as a preacher’s kid. There is a novel or memoir or confessional in that experience for sure. It’s already written in my head.

Marvin Gaye comes on. I guess there is a God.

I often believe I would have made a good preacher…dressed in corduroy vestments, with the ocean as my holy book and the gulls and eagles as my congregants. I also believe my qualification to serve as a preacher man is bolstered by my witnessing a hummingbird flying through fire. Once you’ve seen that, you understand the universe with new enlightenment.

The Bible group behind me speaks of making strawberry jam and the inherent presence of Satan in social media.

I see a massive hardback version of the King James Bible. I pull it from the shelf and find the story of Jonah. I never get tired of it. One wonders where the Nineveh of our time is.

Silicon Valley for sure.

I almost forgot to mention that a cigar store is in front part of the shop. A Christian cigar store in a Christian coffee shop. You can buy a cigar and read the Bible in the smoking area that is designed a bit like a frontier church. There are even pews.

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