That Sunday type of feeling

Homers Coffeehouse is one of those safe places for Christians to be. The staff is always especially nice. People are scattered about with bibles splayed open on the tables. Placed subtly in front of the register is a verse a-day calendar. Other than that, you really wouldn’t know that it’s a “Christian place.” The décor is unassuming and looks like most any other coffee dive (which is to say that it doesn’t have pictures of Jesus everywhere and it’s not attached to a bookstore). And most surprisingly, the coffee is actually pretty damn good – most of it fair trade.

I took a second to look around while I grabbed my coffee this morning. Maybe it was the fall weather seeping in to the room, but people looked content and comfy. They seemed ready to settle in and escape the chill outside.

I sighed. There’s a certain allure to places that are safe havens.

The world is a complicated and scary place. Even if you have a strong support system and relatively trouble-free life, you’ll still freak out about the outside world: The war(s). Kids shooting each other in school. Murder rates in mid-sized cities are skyrocketing. Internally, there’s all the stuff about you: There’s still this thorn in my flesh. How will I pay for new brakes? Does he like me?

It’s pretty obvious that we need to be comforted. We need an adult-sized blankie to carry around. I think that’s why most people visit a church in the first place. After they find peace there, it seems like the only safe haven in an otherwise crazy world. I mean, while you’re there, you’re not EXACTLY going to commit most sin, right? Someone (hopefully) won’t steal your wallet or entice you to cheat.

Once we start to know Jesus a little more, we need to expand the safety net a little. We can’t just subsist on that Sunday morning feeling. Sure, the singing and waving and praying will give you a little force field, and if you’re lucky, on pure “goodness” you could squeeze through Monday without feeling defeated.

But then, Tuesday comes.

It’s always Tuesday, isn’t it? You’re still sort of high from chilling with God in His house a few days ago. Then something happens. Maybe its minute (you’re running late to a meeting), maybe catastrophic (you’re running late to a meeting that will get you fired), but it just GETS YOU.

So, we seek to recreate the Sunday morning feeling. We duck into the bathroom to pray during a hectic work week. We visit the Relevant Web site. We blog. We look for a break in the clouds.

We try to go someplace safe.

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When I first became a Christian, my brain was mushy. What was truth? Who could explain or interpret it right? How could I decide what was up and down? I kept being told I was just a “baby Christian,” anyway.

I remember that during that time, it felt good to read Max Lucado. He was easy to get. Reading a book of his was like eating a big chocolate chip cookie with a glass of warm milk. It wasn’t anesthetized, but it was warm and fuzzy Christianity. It was my safe place. I could take that Jesus. He seemed pretty compassionate.

Now, I like to read and listen to people that challenge my view points. People like my pastor, Rob Bell, NT Wright, Wendell Berry, Erwin McManus. People that don’t think Jesus is just a hug, but a revolution. But I’m ready for all that. I need a little tough love, some new vision, a kick in the ass.

Still, if I had a rough day, they might not be the way to go. I might need a cookie and a safe coffee shop and the realization that other believers are sitting around me. I might need to crack the spine of a Lucado book, letting it take away some of the hurt, making it easy to see Jesus amidst the clutter.

I might need a coffee shop like Homers that’s filled with niceness and other believers. I could need a place to start my day off, safely.

Today's Soundtrack: Refuge (When it's Cold Outside) - John Legend - Get Lifted