You and I try to be nice.  We are friendly.  We smile. We are kind.  Some people make it hard.  Some people are annoying.  People who park illegally, and get away with it.  People on the subway who put their phone on speaker—and it is never the conversation you want to listen in on.

I heard a person in line at Five Guys announce he is a vegetarian.  He is annoying.  People who stand in the middle of the escalator.  People who don’t know what a spoiler alert is, who insist on telling you that Bradley Cooper dies in A Star is Born.

People who use the Bible as an instrument of discrimination, self-congratulation, and exclusion are annoying.    Religious fundamentalists who insist that marriage in the Bible is between one man and one woman, while ignoring how many wives Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Esau, David, and Solomon had.  They average more than 100 wives each, and yet no one is saying, “Marriage in the Bible is the sacred covenant between one man and his 100 wives.”

The list of annoying people includes those who do not wait for their turn to speak, because whatever they are saying is so much more important than whatever you are saying, even though they have already said what they are saying four times and it has not been smart any of the four.

Parents who complain when their child does not get the part of Hamilton in the school musical are annoying.  People who say one thing to your face and something else when you are not around.  People who nitpick everything because they have appointed themselves the editors of everything.  People who start sentences with “I’m not a racist, but.”

People who deny climate change.  What part of melting glaciers don’t you get?  2016 sets a global temperature record, which is broken in 2017, and broken again in 2018.  We have alarming increases in drought, flood, and wildfire.  No credible scientists deny global warming, but risking the planet is profitable.

Some, but not most, politicians are hard to take.  Those politicians whose goal is power, who are willing to lie, who mislead people into voting for them, and who sell their votes to organizations who are not helping the ones who need help.

They make it hard, but maybe we should try to stop being so annoyed.  We can live with a sense of mercy that makes our lives better.  We can act with kindness.

It is possible, that on rare occasions, we are annoying.  In those moments we need to remember that love and forgiveness come as gifts.  We need to get out of the judgment business.

The grace offered the disgraceful is the grace we need.  We should accept annoying people, because we have been accepted.  The hard, holy truth is that God’s grace is for everyone.

 

We took Carol to Westville Dumbo, a trendy breakfast spot, for her birthday. I could have ordered seared marinated tofu, but I went with scrambled eggs and toast. As we waited for Carol’s beets with goat cheese and sweet roasted walnuts, we took turns naming things we love about Carol – her intelligence, her infectious laughter, her patience, her editing skills, her reasonable height and her willingness to be the subject of other people’s columns.

Then Amy Poehler came in. We are a “Parks and Rec” family. All of us would love to vote for Leslie Knope, the perky, mid-level bureaucrat in the Parks Department of Pawnee, a fictional town in Indiana we would have visited by now if it existed.

Ron Swanson is our favorite libertarian, Ann Perkins our favorite nurse, Andy Dwyer our favorite shoe shiner and Mouse Rat our favorite band. (We are the kind of fans who know that every Mouse Rat song includes one of these two lyrics – “Spread your wings and fly” or “You deserve to be a champion.”)  Our family cried at Li’l Sebastian’s Memorial Service. We imagine how sweet Sweetums must be. Leslie’s hatred of libraries makes us question our love for libraries.

We have lived in Brooklyn long enough to know that when we see a celebrity, we do not acknowledge their fame. We do not touch them, talk to them, look them in the eye, ask for autographs, follow them into the bathroom or take a picture. If the celebrity happens to be in a picture the waitress takes of your family that is just a coincidence. (You can see Amy just to the left of Graham’s head.)  When this happy coincidence happens, we do not share it, tweet it or Instagram it.

We know stars are just people, so we are as chill as we can be, which is hard when the star is Amy Poehler. What is she eating? Leslie promised to “avoid salad and other disgusting things.” Wouldn’t it be great if she is eating waffles? Leslie taught us, “We have to remember what’s important in life: friends, waffles and work. Or waffles, friends, work. But work has to come third.”

What if Amy Poehler says something to us, how should we respond? We do not want to say something she has heard a million times. Carol could say, “Ms. Poehler, Leslie was so right. My husband loves it when I show him I’m better than he is at something he loves.” Amy might like it if we said, “We didn’t want to bother you because Leslie pointed out that ‘One person’s annoying is another person’s inspiring and heroic.’”  After several minutes of working on what we would say if Amy Poehler decided to join us at our table, Carol announced, “Amy Poehler is ruining my birthday!”

Carol is right. If we ignore the person at our table in favor of the celebrity two tables away, then we have a problem. A culture that suggests fame is the ultimate measure of success makes us feel bad that we do not look like Ryan Gosling. Plastic surgery seems reasonable. Reality TV passes for reality. Celebrity news looks like real news. If the mostly unknown believe that being mostly known is the goal that matters most, then they are not going to feel good about themselves.

When we become more interested in fame than reality, then we need to put down Us Weekly and pick up The New York Times. We need to be able to name more senators than “Real Housewives.” We need to know more about the co-worker at the next desk than about Ariana Grande.

When celebrities whine about being famous it seems ridiculous that they are complaining about achieving something so many people want, but they have a point. Fame does not usually lead to happiness. Celebrities often feel trapped by their fame.

And yet, most of us harbor a secret desire to be famous. We crave the tiny reassurance of attention. We wait to be discovered. We are disappointed that we are not more celebrated.

Letting go of our desire to be famous could lead to better birthdays. Admiring people who do things worthy of our admiration – hard workers, loving parents, good listeners, caring teachers – could help us understand that anonymity is okay. The happiest person could be a perky, mid-level bureaucrat who enjoys life and a good breakfast.

I got to technology late.  I bought a new electric typewriter cheap right after they were obsolete.  I avoided email until I was the only one who had never heard from a Nigerian prince.  I don’t have a Facebook page, so someone else made one for me without me knowing it.  Did you know they could do that?

But every once in a while, a decade or so after everyone else, I experience the joy of technology.  I walk everywhere.  My office is up two flights of stairs.  Many of the people who come to church are well-dressed and expect their minister to be well-dressed.  About a month ago I put these facts together and googled “black sneakers that look like dress shoes” and found this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am so happy with my Skeechers Dress Knit Relaxed Fit Memory Foam Oxford Shoes.  For a while I expected someone to say, “Hey, you’re wearing tennis shoes to work,” but I no longer think it is going to happen.

This has led to a new appreciation of my Google machine.  You can google your way through life.  The possibilities are amazing.

If you want to get up earlier google, “ideas for getting up earlier,” and set your coffee on a timer, put a warm robe by the bed, and tell yourself “getting up is fun.”

Google “things to do on your commute,” and listen to a podcast, make your to-do list, or get your worrying out of the way.

Google “how to get along with a grumpy co-worker,” and stay cool, take a timeout, and say their name.

Google “things to daydream about” and imagine sitting in a bathtub full of bubbles with a good book, going on a road trip with your best friend, or lunch.

Google “cures for an afternoon slump,” and rub peppermint oil on your hands, brush your teeth, or try some yoga.

If you want “ways to kill time on youtube” you can find bad lip reading, honey badger, and sneezing baby panda.

If you can’t sleep, google “when you can’t sleep,” and turn down the thermostat, take a hot shower, and drink some milk.

The Google machine has more applications to church life than you might think.

If you are having trouble “keeping your child quiet during worship,” google it, give them a phone, hand them Goldfish, or let them wear black sneakers.

Google your way to “ideas for livening up a dull Bible study” like turn down the thermostat, paint something, and use pillows instead of chairs.

Google “ideas for adding fun to a church meeting,” and throw stuffed animals at anyone who says anything negative, bring an egg timer, or go to a movie instead.

Google “how to end a column,” and use a relevant quote—“Google is your friend,” a thought-provoking fact—“Google processes 40,000 searches every second,” or echo the introduction—“I get to technology late, so you probably already knew this.”

 

 

Ministers who are sane do not want to tell people how to vote.  If the minister is in the majority of a red or blue congregation, then taking a side is picking on the one guy who wears a MAGA hat to the potluck or the one woman who has an I’m too poor to vote Republican bumper sticker on her Prius.  If the minister is in the minority, then he or she can survive only a limited number of endorsements.  If the congregation is evenly divided between Democrats and Republicans, then championing candidates is asking for angry emails.

Being a minister has gotten harder since the 2016 election.  When a sermon refers to President Trump by name the preacher has to answer for it during coffee hour.  Mentioning poverty, integrity, or compassion sounds political.  Speaking against greed, violence, xenophobia, homophobia, or sexism is controversial.  Politics is depressing, because some important religious issues are not listed in either party’s talking points.

Caring for the poor is a religious issue.  The world’s great faiths insist on feeding the hungry.  While officials argue over who represents the middle class, only a few put forth policies that offer poor families a real chance.

War is a religious issue.  Many seem to have forgotten that our nation has troops in Afghanistan.  The suggestion that we love our enemies would sound strange on who-can-scream-the-loudest talk shows.

Telling the truth is a religious issue.  Politicians have a shrinking concern for accuracy.  Constituents give their side a free pass.

Few politicians make serious efforts to consider how free trade could alleviate hunger, basic medical coverage could ease suffering, or concern for justice in the international arena could reduce anger towards our country.

Religious people are smart enough to consider issues beyond the last partisan punchline.  Immigration, prison reform, and the environment matter to religious people because our faiths have something to say about hospitality, revenge, and creation.

Imagine how good government could be if those who say God is love took love for the poor, the desire for peace, and an insistence on honesty into the voting booth.  What wonderful things would happen if our values were derived from virtue rather than partisanship?

Sincere people of faith vote for different candidates for reasons deeply rooted in their faith.  They disagree on how to educate children, promote racial understanding, and support gender equality, but they share frustration with politicians who appeal to individual interests, national interests, and special interests.  Religious faith leads away from narrow-mindedness to concern for the good of others.

Religious organizations have no business endorsing candidates, but they have an obligation to share the best of their traditions.  Ministers do not get to avoid the call for justice in order to avoid appearing political.

Religious people disagree on how to care for refugees, but ministers have to preach that it is not acceptable to separate children from their parents.

Religious people disagree on what a prison should look like, but ministers have to preach care for those who are imprisoned.

Religious people disagree on how to respond to victims of sexual assault, but ministers have to preach the necessity of listening.

Religious people can offer ideas beyond politics as usual, speaking for political reform where the insights of faith intersect societal concerns.  The movements for civil rights, women’s suffrage, and child labor laws began with religious people.  When debates focus on which candidate will make voters richest, religious people can be a voice for the oppressed.

The United States is a remarkable country with lofty goals.  Even when disappointed by the choices they have been given, religious people appreciate the privilege of voting.  Ministers should encourage their congregations to pay attention to more than the superficial and vote with concern for all on Tuesday.

The church has taken centuries to understand that in a world that is asleep, coffee is no doze.  Opening the church to coffee drinkers has been a long, difficult struggle.  Coffee dates back to the fifteenth century and the Sufi monasteries of Yemen.  The legend is that the mystic Ghothul Akbar Nooruddin Abu al-Hasan al-Shadhili was traveling in Ethiopia.  He saw birds acting unusually lively, and upon trying the berries that the birds had been eating, experienced the same vitality.  Coffee was soon part of religious practice in the Islamic world.  The Sufis used the beverage to keep themselves alert during nighttime devotions and as a kind of spiritual intoxication when they chanted the name of God.

Because Muslims loved coffee, several Christian groups, including The Ethiopian Orthodox Church, made a big brouhaha and banned coffee.  Mormons still avoid this potion made with magic beans.

Churches need to wake up and smell the coffee.  When we ask Siri to “find coffee” she lists four places within 800 feet of Plymouth.  Our neighborhood has more coffee shops than churches.

Coffee is the most important meal of the day for many.  In the midst of the daily grind, coffee is invigorating.  A yawn is a silent scream for coffee.  Sleep is a symptom of caffeine deprivation.  Coffee smells like freshly ground heaven and tastes like hopes and dreams.

When we are holding a cup of coffee, the warmth radiates through our hands.  The smell drifts through the air.  The cream goes into black coffee and magically changes it into good to the last drop caramel. This sensual experience helps our sleepy selves greet the day with gratitude.  We reflect on what we are worried about and what we now have the energy to achieve.

Worship would be less lively without a cup of joy.  We can tell a lot about a church from how they caffeinate worshippers.  My parents’ Baptist church is Folgers.  Unitarians drink fair trade coffee.  Mennonites have Kuerig committees that wash and recycle those little cups.  Presbyterians have long filled their fellowship halls for the sacrament of coffee hour.  Catholics serve decaf at midnight mass.  Sharing coffee is a way of saying, “We love you a latte.”

The church house at Plymouth was built with coffee money.  In the early 1900s, the Arbuckle Brothers’ coffee factory in Brooklyn roasted more coffee than any other building in the world.  John Arbuckle, “the Coffee King,” changed how coffee was made.  He roasted and ground coffee beans onsite and packaged the coffee in one-pound bags.  Coffee money paid for the Plymouth Institute.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” is an offer of friendship.  Coffee turns a counseling session into a conversation between friends.  Saying “Yes” to coffee at the end of a meal is a promise to hang around.

Here is a question that will begin to percolate one day.  Would coffee be a better symbol for communion?  Grape juice is dull.  Wine puts you to sleep.  Coffee refreshes, revives, and stimulates.  The Lord’s Table could be a coffee table.  If we drank coffee at communion, we could get rid of the tiny shot glasses.  Picture those little communion cup holders on the backs of pews becoming real cup holders.  Coffee would be a fine symbol for the enlivening of the Spirit that happens at the table.

When we celebrate communion it will be with wine and grape juice, but there will be coffee in Hillis so we can fill the church with sweetness and light.