For Part IV of my Denver Sabbath Coffee Tour I visited Huckleberry Roasters. This local roaster has a roasting room and a cafe on Pecos and 43rd (in the Highlands neighborhood) and a cafe on Larimer and 25th street near downtown.
This part of Denver is mostly older residential homes and this coffee shop occupies a corner of the block. There is a shaded patio, and a big front window open to the outdoors. There a few big tables (encouraging patrons to share), a couple small tables, and a bar. The space is open, minimally decorated, and seems to draw a large number of people from the neighborhood. There is wifi and plenty of room for enjoying coffee and pastries while you work. Donuts appeared to be a big hit with everyone who was coming in. Parking is available on the street, and is ample.
I was greeted warmly by the two baristas working when I arrived. The warmth exuded by these two made the experience truly wonderful. I ordered a pour over, today's brew was the Rwandan Kibuye Gitesi, a bright and sweet roast. I just needed a little bit of cream. Once the coffee cooled a bit, it mellowed into a rich and full blend.
I mentioned to one of the baristas that I was engaging in this coffee tour, and he suggested several other coffee shops to visit. He also suggested some roasters in Minneapolis/St Paul to check out while I am there.
Huckleberry Roasters has been my favorite experience so far on this coffee tour. The coffee was delicious and the warmth and community created by the baristas and patrons made this an excellent stop on the coffee tour. I will definitely be making my way back to Huckleberry Roasters.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Friday, August 21, 2015
Sabbath Coffee Tour: Part III, Amethyst Coffee (11th and Broadway)
For the third stop on my Denver Sabbath Coffee Tour, I checked out Amethyst Coffee at 11th and Broadway. This light and airy coffee shop (with a Scandinavian style, mid-century modern vibe) serves coffee from Commonwealth Coffee Roasters. I cajoled my friend Vince into joining me, as he is also a big fan of coffee.
This coffee shop is in the remodeled/reclaimed Broadway Plaza motel building which is now called the Metlo. It is a haven of shops and artistic spaces. The coffee shop is in the former front desk space. There is a small parking lot in front, metered parking available on Broadway and non-metered parking on the side streets. Parking tickets are given in abundance along Broadway, so make sure you feed your meter or watch the street parking limits (usually two hours on side streets). The atmosphere is quiet and open. There are plenty of tables, a couch, some armchairs, and a shaded patio. It would be a great place for writing or working. There was no music playing, just the doors open to the patio, with ambient street noise, which I find preferable to loud music in coffee shops. The barista working was friendly and helpful, and patrons were hanging out on the patio with their dogs.
I ordered a cold brew coffee over ice. Today's roast was the Ethiopian, a light and fruity roast. The coffee was smooth enough that I drank it without cream or sugar. Usually coffee is too bitter for me to enjoy without doctoring it up. There is a pastry case, but by the time we arrived (around 11:30) there were no pastries left.
This was delicious coffee! I highly recommend this coffee shop both for its delicious coffee and for its comfortable atmosphere.
This coffee shop is in the remodeled/reclaimed Broadway Plaza motel building which is now called the Metlo. It is a haven of shops and artistic spaces. The coffee shop is in the former front desk space. There is a small parking lot in front, metered parking available on Broadway and non-metered parking on the side streets. Parking tickets are given in abundance along Broadway, so make sure you feed your meter or watch the street parking limits (usually two hours on side streets). The atmosphere is quiet and open. There are plenty of tables, a couch, some armchairs, and a shaded patio. It would be a great place for writing or working. There was no music playing, just the doors open to the patio, with ambient street noise, which I find preferable to loud music in coffee shops. The barista working was friendly and helpful, and patrons were hanging out on the patio with their dogs.
I ordered a cold brew coffee over ice. Today's roast was the Ethiopian, a light and fruity roast. The coffee was smooth enough that I drank it without cream or sugar. Usually coffee is too bitter for me to enjoy without doctoring it up. There is a pastry case, but by the time we arrived (around 11:30) there were no pastries left.
This was delicious coffee! I highly recommend this coffee shop both for its delicious coffee and for its comfortable atmosphere.
Sunday, August 02, 2015
It doesn't just stop with a free lunch…a sermon on John 6:24-36
A sermon preached at House for All Sinners and Saints in Denver, CO.
Grace, peace, and mercy are yours from the Triune God. Amen.
Grace, peace, and mercy are yours from the Triune God. Amen.
I wasn’t
originally going to preach on this text.
I was going to preach on a text from Ephesians that talks about unity in
the Holy Spirit and I even went so far as to write most of that sermon. But
this Gospel text from John, the bread of life, has not let me go. The word “life” in this text seemed to really
grate on me this week. As I read the texts and prayed, I also experienced one
of the most challenging weeks in my career as a chaplain, bearing witness to 8
deaths in the last 48 hours, along with the trauma, illness and pain that
happen in every hospital. I've not been thinking about life, I am thinking about
mortality and death. I feel like the crowd, having a hard time understanding
what Jesus is saying about eternal life. They ask, “What sign are you going to
give us then, so that we might see it and believe you? What work are you
performing?” In my work, where I see so much suffering and death, I plead to
God, “Give me a sign so that I can believe you when you say that death is not
the end!”
I have been earnestly chasing Jesus for a sign just like the crowd that
we hear about in John’s Gospel. The crowd followed Jesus to Capernaum
because they witnessed a miracle in the feeding of the 5,000. They want to make Jesus their king by force,
because they were impressed with the loaves and fishes. When the crowd catches up to him, he says “I am giving you eternal life,
my body and blood, and you don’t get it.
You are happy to just stop with a free lunch!” Jesus tells the people, “Do not work for food
that perishes, but for the food which endures for eternal life.”
The
crowd was stuck in the broken time of now, unable to see the holy not yet. Their hunger, a sort of physical hunger
that is hard for us to understand, compels them to have their stomachs filled
and their hunger pangs quieted, and until the needs of the present are cared
for, it is really hard to see the promise of what is to come. While our stomachs might not growl with
starvation in the same way as the crowd gathered around Jesus, we too are stuck
in the broken time of now. We hunger for justice when we hear about yet another
Black American killed by a law enforcement officer. We hunger for answers when
we learn of stabbings at a gay pride parade in Israel. We hunger for
forgiveness for the ways that we continue to oppress our brothers and sisters
of color through systemic racism. We hunger for life and for good news and for
the promise of the Gospel when we battle shame and despair and depression and
addiction everywhere around us.
Jesus says to the
crowd, consumed by their current hunger, “Do not work for the food that
perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life.” Do not
be consumed with the brokenness that you see now, but focus on the promise of
all that God gives you. And the
crowd asks, “What do we do to secure these promises for ourselves?” And Jesus says, “Nothing. The work of God
is to believe in him whom he sent.”
And the crowd says, “No,
really. There has to be something. And give us a sign so that we can believe
you about the whole eternal life thing.
What are you doing so that we can believe? When our ancestors were doubting the presence
of God, they were given manna in the wilderness by Moses.” And
Jesus says, “ It was not Moses who gave you bread from heaven, but my Father
who gives you true bread in heaven. For the
bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the
world.” Still perhaps wishing for a
nice sourdough or rye loaf, the crowd says, “Give us this bread always.” Jesus
proclaims, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry
and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Jesus says the
same to us, “Do not be consumed with the brokenness of the world, but know that
God is among you, the bread of God has come down into the world.” We think are
better off than the crowd because we know that Jesus talking about himself and
we know the rest of the story, but we still struggle with believing what Jesus
is saying.
Perhaps because we
equate believing with intellectual understanding. If we just had enough evidence, enough signs,
if manna of some sort could be provided, that would be great. But having faith
is not about comprehension and making a reasoned decision based on carefully
considered facts. It is about an
encounter with Christ. It is Christ coming into the world for us, and saying,
“Come to me, I will feed you from my very body.” And it is about us bringing all of our broken
pieces and our open hands saying, “I am hungry.”
What if believing that Christ is the bread
of the world is not about understanding what it’s all about, but about a
willingness to come to this table each week with our hunger? To say,
“I have no idea how this works. But I am going to eat anyway because I am
hungry.” Our pastors declare each week
during the invitation to communion, “Behold who you are, become what you
receive!” We are all Christ’s body, we are all Christ’s beloved. When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we
share in his life and death and resurrection. We are reminded of Christ in us
and around us. We are reminded that death has no dominion. THIS, the bread and the wine, THIS is the sign for which we cry out
when we hunger, when we are surrounded by fear and shame and death.
Hunger is not the
end. Pain is not the end. Fear is not the end. Even death is not the end. And
because it is really hard to remember that, we get to be reminded each week when
we eat the bread of heaven as we gather together around this table. I am hungry to be reminded that death is not
the end, even though it surrounds me everyday.
I need to be fed so that I might have the strength that comes from
Christ to continue to do my work in the hospital.
How are you hungry? How does this
sacred meal feed you?
Labels:
bread of life,
Eucharist,
John 6:24-35,
sermon,
sermons
Saturday, July 18, 2015
chaplaincy series: Pastoral Theology
Explanation of project: CPE students were tasked with
writing and delivering a “pastoral homily”, a message that would speak to
patients in a pastoral way. This is not a sermon, but rather, an exploration of
a pastoral concern.
My initial reflections: Proclamation is something
that comes quite easily to me. I write
and deliver sermons on a regular basis. I have preached homilies at funerals,
weddings, prayer services, worship services, graduation and confirmation
liturgies, and other events in the life of a pastor. What would be of greater
learning to me is to engage in dialogue with my peers and supervisor regarding
the topic of this homiletical reflection, disability
and pastoral theology.
Limiting the scope: There are many definitions of
what it is to be disabled. There are
physical disabilities, cognitive disabilities, invisible disabilities such as
autoimmune diseases and mental illnesses, and other conditions that may or may
not be disabling such as deafness or blindness. The scope of this project does
not allow for extended consideration of all of these topics, so the term
“disability” for the remainder of this project refers to paralysis, specifically
the inability to walk as a result of a traumatic injury. Additionally, since I
am not a part of the disabled community, my reflections are limited to my own
social location. I can reflect upon these topics, but I am perpetually outside
this community. Finally, since I am a minister in a Christian tradition,
specifically a Lutheran pastor, my perspective is Christo-centric and is guided
by scripture.
Images of paralysis in scripture: (NRSV)
Mark 2:1-12:
“When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported
that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for
them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then
some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And
when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the
roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which
the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son,
your sins are forgiven.’ Now some of the scribes were sitting there,
questioning in their hearts, ‘Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is
blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?’ At once Jesus perceived in his
spirit that they were discussing these questions among themselves; and he said
to them, ‘Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to
say to the paralytic, “Your sins are forgiven”, or to say, “Stand up and take
your mat and walk”? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority
on earth to forgive sins’—he said to the paralytic— ‘I say to you, stand up,
take your mat and go to your home.’ And he stood up, and immediately took the
mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified
God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this!’”
Matthew
9:2-8:
And just then some
people were carrying a paralyzed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their
faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.’
Then some of the scribes said to themselves, ‘This man is blaspheming.’ But
Jesus, perceiving their thoughts, said, ‘Why do you think evil in your hearts?
For which is easier, to say, “Your sins are forgiven”, or to say, “Stand up and
walk”? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to
forgive sins’—he then said to the paralytic—‘Stand up, take your bed and go to
your home.’ And he stood up and went to his home. When the crowds saw it, they
were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to
human beings.
Luke
5:17-26:
“ One day, while he was
teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting nearby (they had come
from every village of Galilee and Judea and from Jerusalem); and the power of
the Lord was with him to heal. Just then some men came, carrying a paralyzed
man on a bed. They were trying to bring him in and lay him before Jesus; but
finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof
and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in
front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Friend, your sins are
forgiven you.’ Then the scribes and the Pharisees began to question, ‘Who is
this who is speaking blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?’ When
Jesus perceived their questionings, he answered them, ‘Why do you raise such
questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, “Your sins are forgiven
you”, or to say, “Stand up and walk”? But so that you may know that the Son of
Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’—he said to the one who was paralyzed—‘I
say to you, stand up and take your bed and go to your home.’ Immediately he
stood up before them, took what he had been lying on, and went to his home,
glorifying God. Amazement seized all of them, and they glorified God and were
filled with awe, saying, ‘We have seen strange things today.’”
Matthew
8:5-13:
“When he entered
Capernaum, a centurion came to him, appealing to him and saying, ‘Lord, my servant
is lying at home paralyzed, in terrible distress.’ And he said to him, ‘I will
come and cure him.’ The centurion answered, ‘Lord, I am not worthy to have you
come under my roof; but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed. For
I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one,
“Go”, and he goes, and to another, “Come”, and he comes, and to my slave, “Do
this”, and the slave does it.’ When Jesus heard him, he was amazed and said to
those who followed him, ‘Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found
such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with
Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the
kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and
gnashing of teeth.’ And to the centurion Jesus said, ‘Go; let it be done for
you according to your faith.’ And the servant was healed in that hour.”
John 5:1-15:
“After this there was a
festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the
Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five
porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was
there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there
and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be
made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the
pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else
steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’
At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.
Now that day was a sabbath.
So the Jews said to the man who had been cured, ‘It is the sabbath; it is not
lawful for you to carry your mat.’ But he answered them, ‘The man who made me
well said to me, “Take up your mat and walk.” ’ They asked him, ‘Who is the man
who said to you, “Take it up and walk”?’ Now the man who had been healed did
not know who it was, for Jesus had disappeared in the crowd that was there.
Later Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, ‘See, you have been made
well! Do not sin any more, so that nothing worse happens to you.’ The man went
away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well.”
Acts
9:23-25
Now as Peter went here
and there among all the believers, he came down also to the saints living in
Lydda. There he found a man named Aeneas, who had been bedridden for eight
years, for he was paralyzed. Peter said to him, ‘Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals
you; get up and make your bed!’ And immediately he got up. And all the
residents of Lydda and Sharon saw him and turned to the Lord.
Scriptural
Reflections:
-All
four Gospels have some account of Jesus telling a paralyzed man to “Stand up,
take your mat, and walk.”
-There
is an additional account of the healing of the Centurion’s servant and of a man
named Aeneas.
-Scriptural
accounts pertaining to paralysis tend to be closely related to healing
happening when a person proves their faith or when their sins are forgiven.
Pastoral
Reflections:
It
is extremely problematic to link paralysis with sin or with faith. To link paralysis with sin is to say that
someone did something to deserve their condition/injury/illness. To link
paralysis (or healing from it, “take up your mat and walk”) with faith puts
someone into the position of feeling like they can do something to pray their
way out of their condition. Additionally, to link paralysis with faith means
that someone who is paralyzed can be seen as “not praying hard enough” or not
“having enough faith”, because if they had great faith, they could be healed.
Both of these are cold comfort to someone who is paralyzed. I have been present
many times during this residency year when a doctor told a patient that they
would not be able to walk again as a result of a car accident/ski
accident/fall/other trauma. Patients frequently respond, “what did I do to
deserve this?” The pastoral response is, “absolutely nothing, there is nothing
to say except, ‘I am with you’” and yet, so much of Christianity wants to pray
for a miracle when a severed spinal cord is not going to ever be repaired.
There
is something left wanting when we link disability to sin or implying that a
person’s traumatic injury could have been avoided or that it could be healed if
they only had enough faith or prayed the right way. There needs to be a
different concept of disability and theology.
Re-imagining
disability with theology:
A. The
interdependent God: posed by Kathy Black in A Healing Homiletic. This idea of Christian community is a place where
“all are called to work interdependently with God to achieve well-being for
ourselves and others.”[1] This idea begins from the place that we are
profoundly interconnected to one another and to God. Physical limitations are merely a different
manifestation of “normal” because we are all connected. Those who depend on the
assistance of others with daily activities are essentially no different than
those who depend on the assistance of other people who have expertise with
other tasks, such as financial management, construction, and so on. Black
argues that “experience of disability allows us to see what is often invisible
to others: all people, disabled or not, are dependent on other people and the
resources of the natural world for survival.”[2] Black emphasizes the connection between God
and between human beings, saying that “the universe is interdependent and God
is part of that interdependence.”[3]
Scripturally
speaking, I see evidence of this interdependent God in Exodus 6:7a, “I will
take you as my people, and I will be your God.” God is God because of God’s
people. God is not a puppet master subjecting people to whims of pain and
suffering. In this image of the universe, human choice and God’s will are just
a couple factors in a myriad of factors determining our lives.
What
does this look like in a hospital setting? Patients in a hospital are acutely
aware of their dependence on others. I
made a visit to a patient last week who said that she was unable to chat at the
time because she was waiting for her nurse to take her to the bathroom. The
eventual treatment plan for most patients is to return home and to return to
health, and to get to that point, patients must rely on caregivers. But what if
this interdependence works the other way as well? Nurses are nurses because they have patients
to care for. Chaplains are chaplains because they provide pastoral care. Care
is not provided in a vacuum, it is provided as a part of a web of
interconnected relationships. In this model, disability is not a deficit, but
rather, another way that we are connected to one another.
B. The
Disabled God: Nancy Eiesland, in The
Disabled God, posits that traditional images of disability as a curse or as
a blessing (something to overcome) are simply not adequate and make it
impossible for a person with disabilities to see themselves as part of the
imago dei, as divinely inspired creatures made in the image of God. Eiesland
suggests that the image of the crucified Christ can point to the disabled God. Jesus died as a result of physical
limitations. He was crucified on a cross and suffocated because he was unable
to lift his own body weight enough to fill his lungs. Eiesland states,
“Christians do not have an able-bodied God as their primal image. Rather, the
disabled God promising grace through a broken body is at the center of piety,
prayer, practice and mission.”[4] Eiesland’s image of God
divorces physical disability from the notion of sin, because Jesus was free
from sin and yet he became disabled. She also argues that the stories of the
crucifixion and the resurrection show that God is in solidarity with those who
have disabilities or who are otherwise marginalized. God knows what it is to be
physically limited and knows what it is to experience pain.
This
has major implications from a pastoral perspective for patients in the
hospital. As Jesus appeared to his disciples as a survivor, with wounds from
his suffering, even inviting the disciples to touch him and place their hands
in his wounds, so too patients are marked with wounds and scars from their own
suffering. This speaks of a God in solidarity with those who suffer. God knows
what it is to suffer and God knows what it is to die. As someone who has
suffered, I would much rather have a God who suffers (a theology of the cross)
than a God who is seen only in glory. As a patient, I would rather have a
chaplain who is willing to acknowledge that God has experienced the worst that
this world can offer and is not too quick to pray for healing or for wholeness because
that feels cheap. As a chaplain, I would
rather have a disabled God, because that is a God that I can believe in and
that I can bear witness to as I sit with patients in their suffering.
Reflecting
Together:
1.
What do you think about people “deserving” their condition? What about drunk drivers or suicidal folks or
someone else who actually did something, even if it was mere stupidity, to
bring about their paralysis?
2.
What do you think about God as being
disabled? Does this expand your vision
of God or does it limit what God is capable of doing?
3.
What can paralysis tell us about God?
4.
Do these thoughts challenge your theology?
Expand it? Are you indifferent?
How does this sort of reflection shape our w
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Sabbath Coffee Tour: Part II, Pablo's Coffee (6th and Washington)
Pablo's Coffee is a Denver institution, and has two locations as well as a roaster. Coffee is roasted at a small facility at 7th and Lipan, and coffee is served at the original location at 6th and Washington, and at a newer location at 13th and Pennsylvania. Their coffee is served by a variety of Denver metro area coffee shops and restaurants.
Today I am meeting a friend for a mid-morning coffee break. My standard drink for this coffee tour is a medium sized dark roast with room for cream. The dark roast of the day is "Breakfast Blend" which is described as "milk chocolate, raisins, and roasted peanuts." I do not particularly taste these notes, but the coffee is hot and fresh and smooth. I fix it up with two packets of sugar in the raw and soy milk. I also order a slice of gluten free coffee cake.
This coffee shop is crowded and crammed full with small round tables and chairs. Sitting on either the front or side patio provides for more comfortable seating. This coffee shop can get really crowded and loud, as there is really only one large space which includes the coffee bar. There also seems to be very loud music playing much of the time, which I do not particularly care for. One thing that I really love about Pablo's is that there is no wi-fi available. This means that there are not people camped out at tables for hours on end and the space is more conducive to conversation. This is an intentional way to build community (What's the deal with the wi-fi?) and it works.
In terms of parking, this coffee shop has street parking available as well as a very small lot with about 8 spots. It is generally easiest to park along Washington, as 6th Avenue is quite busy.
Overall: Pablo's is part of my rotation of regular coffee shops, the place where I end up when I want to have coffee and conversation with friends. Their Danger Monkey roast is my favorite. Baristas are generally friendly, although they sometimes seem to be more interested in talking with one another than with taking orders. Solid coffee, decent pastries (including vegan and gluten free!), and a space dedicated to community and conversation.
Today I am meeting a friend for a mid-morning coffee break. My standard drink for this coffee tour is a medium sized dark roast with room for cream. The dark roast of the day is "Breakfast Blend" which is described as "milk chocolate, raisins, and roasted peanuts." I do not particularly taste these notes, but the coffee is hot and fresh and smooth. I fix it up with two packets of sugar in the raw and soy milk. I also order a slice of gluten free coffee cake.
This coffee shop is crowded and crammed full with small round tables and chairs. Sitting on either the front or side patio provides for more comfortable seating. This coffee shop can get really crowded and loud, as there is really only one large space which includes the coffee bar. There also seems to be very loud music playing much of the time, which I do not particularly care for. One thing that I really love about Pablo's is that there is no wi-fi available. This means that there are not people camped out at tables for hours on end and the space is more conducive to conversation. This is an intentional way to build community (What's the deal with the wi-fi?) and it works.
In terms of parking, this coffee shop has street parking available as well as a very small lot with about 8 spots. It is generally easiest to park along Washington, as 6th Avenue is quite busy.
Overall: Pablo's is part of my rotation of regular coffee shops, the place where I end up when I want to have coffee and conversation with friends. Their Danger Monkey roast is my favorite. Baristas are generally friendly, although they sometimes seem to be more interested in talking with one another than with taking orders. Solid coffee, decent pastries (including vegan and gluten free!), and a space dedicated to community and conversation.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

