By: Mark Deisinger
Where I work we have a newly-opened café area. My employers believe that what software writers do is turn coffee into code, so they provide coffee and a few other amenities to us. Some other outfit keeps things stocked and functional. It’s a nice arrangement, though the coffee and donut table at enCompass wins, hands down, for friendliness and, let’s be honest, because of the donuts.
Caffeine does unpleasant things to me, but when I head downstairs in the morning to get a cup of decaf, I always see this sign, which I have arranged just so for a photo:
Delightful and reassuring, no? Yes. But also, sometimes, just completely wrong. In fact, sometimes the sign is dusty from not being touched for weeks. It just sits there, advertising the availability of fresh coffee, when in reality it has no clue whether the coffee is fresh or not. The sign is not smart or informed, and is not reliable.
Today as I write this was one of those days when the sign was … mistaken. I got a cup of decaf (it’s the one with the orange proboscis), but when I took a sip I immediately and fully knew, as much as I’ve ever known anything, that the coffee was brewed the previous afternoon and had been sitting in the decanter for roughly 16 or 17 billion hours. All of the aromatic oils had dissipated or chemically changed into nasty, spiteful, cynical molecules with grudges. Oh, and trust me, those of you who can ingest actual caffeine, decaffeinated coffee doesn’t really need any help in the “being bitter” department.
I’ve learned to be more careful about how much I trust the sign. Some things just aren’t what they advertise themselves to be. You can certainly come up with your own examples. We all know that department stores that have sales all the time aren’t really having sales; they’re just playing with pricing to draw interest. Movie trailers are designed to hide flaws. I’ve heard it said that the goal of dating someone is to conceal information until it’s too late.
But most of us need a jolt in the morning, for one reason or another. I don’t think this is an accident. I think it explains why there is dew on the grass, and why sunrises can be so beautiful, and why the presence of newborns is refreshing.
The Israelites, after escaping Egypt, were given manna every morning (and a double portion the day before the Sabbath) to get them through the wilderness. That was a gift direct from God’s own hand, and it kept the people from starving. It’s also, of course, a lesson for us all that God stands ready to provide for us on a daily basis. Lamentations 3:22-23 says this (NIV):
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
His compassions are new every morning. If you put a sign in front of His compassions that said “Fresh Brewed This AM,” that sign would never be lying to you.
But that’s kind of half the story. Just like I have to go to the café to get my decaf every day, the Bible hints quite a lot that we need to go to Him every day, too, to stay in touch and get some blessing action. I’m not a particularly stellar practicer of Christian disciplines, but I know they’re important – private and communal prayer, private and communal worship, fellowship with other believers, acts of service and giving, and daily devotions.
I’m reminded of something a pastor of mine once said to me, speaking about a meeting he had with another person (he did not say who the other person was, and I don’t even know if I knew the man). The man he was meeting with told him, speaking of his own spiritual state, “Pastor, I’m starving, but I’m not hungry.” What I believe he meant was that he knew, intellectually perhaps, that he desperately needed to be closer to God, to partake of the compassions that God had laid out for him, to eat of the spiritual food that was provided for him every day. Sadly, he didn’t feel the urge to partake. His heart had gone cold toward God. A sad state of affairs, robbing him of the benefits of having a close relationship with the One who loves him best.
But there is hope, for that man and for us, all of us who have dry periods in our relationships with God and with others. Ezekiel chapter 37, which I will not quote here but you should go read right now, is the scene with the dry bones. God raises the dry bones up and gives them flesh and breath again so that they once again live. He is, after all, the God of resurrection. Go get some fresh coffee.