I like coffee.
There. I said it.
I really, really, really like coffee.
This post won’t be a follow up to my series about my development and theology. Instead, it’ll be about my love of my favorite beverage. It’ll be part of a series about coffee and different types of coffee that I like. I might even discuss my limited experience trying to roast coffee.
After all, my blog is called “Coffee and Theology,” so it’s only fitting that I should discuss coffee at some point, right?
My deep love for coffee is rooted in the fact that my mom grew up in Brazil. She wasn’t Brazilian, but she was born and raised there, so she was what we call a “third culture kid.” Her parents were Americans who moved to Brazil in the 1950s as missionaries with the Baptist church.
My mom brought her love of coffee to her life in America as she settled and attended college there. She passed this love down to me.
In fact, I’ve been drinking coffee since before I can remember. I used to drink it with milk or flavored creamer, but as my tastes developed, I discovered that I love plain, black coffee. At least, when it’s made well with high-quality beans. My parents couldn’t afford high-quality coffee beans. So we drank Folger’s. Or whatever was on sale at Aldi that week. My mom would make coffee every single morning. Many of my fondest memories revolve around drinking (terrible) coffee with my parents. It was something that brought us together as a family.
As I’ve grown my love for coffee hasn’t changed, but my tastes have. I have a tendency to try to become somewhat snobbish about some of the things that I like, so I’m always looking for the best coffee beans I can find at a reasonable price. I’ve developed a deep love of light roasts, and the nutty, fruity flavor profiles that they provide.
I began watching YouTube videos by James Hoffman and others about how to make the best coffee with whatever equipment I have. As of now, my favorite ways to make coffee are with my V60 pour over and my French Press. I had an Aero Press in the United States, but for some foolish reason, I chose not to bring it to France with me. This decision will be rectified when I return to the US for the summer.
Yes, I am snobbish when I make my own coffee, but having grown up with bad coffee made poorly, I can still stomach gas station coffee or the donated coffee we have at my work. In fact, it will come as no surprise that I need coffee to function. The same can be said of most every coffee-lover.
As this is my first post about coffee, let me explain how it figures into the theme of the blog. One of my first posts dealt with this theme, but I’ll state it here as well.
I believe in a faith that is not stagnant, not passive. I want my faith to fill me with passion and to influence every decision I make, so that I impact those around me for the better. I still describe myself as a Christian, although I usually choose alternative words, since that word carries so much baggage.
So I liken my faith to my love of coffee. I need my coffee to function. When I haven’t had my coffee I feel unmotivated and unwilling to do anything. The first thing I do in the morning is make coffee, and it energizes me to live my day.
I want my faith to play a similar role, energizing me to love those around me and fulfill the greatest commandments that we received from Jesus: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and love your neighbor as yourself.
I want faith to be like caffeine in my soul (it’s cheesy, I know).
In conclusion, my journey with coffee parallels my spiritual quest for a faith that is vibrant and transformative. From childhood memories shared over a cup of Folger’s to the pursuit of the perfect pour-over, coffee has been a constant companion, reminding me of the importance of savoring life’s simple pleasures. As I continue to explore the nuances of coffee brewing, I am reminded of the depth and richness of my faith journey, seeking to infuse each day with purpose and passion. Just as a well-brewed cup of coffee awakens the senses, I aspire for my faith to be a catalyst for love, compassion, and meaningful connection in the world around me. So, here’s to embracing both the aroma of freshly ground beans and the aroma of divine grace, as we journey onward, one sip at a time.
Coffee & Theology 