Starbucks Theology

There I sit, starring into my coffee. Strong rich Starbucksy goodness; cream and sugar; steaming; hiding its secret caffeine treasures somewhere between the bean water molecules. It does rock (that’s “rocketh” in the King James). It, like most good things, makes me think of God. All beautiful things do/should. I’m so glad I’m not an ascetic, or a docetist, or in one of those strange groups that thinks that all of the normal pleasures of this life were the consequences of the Fall. Really, all things were made good, and made to be enjoyed within their proper scope, and designed with a peculiar human relationship in mind. I know this is avidly anti-Copernican but as I am avidly anti-Copernican, let it be.

In theology we should be steadfastly Theocentric. Anthropocentric theologies are too brittle to stand beneath the weight and heat of thorough inspection. I don’t expect God to be the center of anthropology; why should people expect man to be at the center of my Theology? Besides, a disoriented theology tends to hold in its heart a disordered interpretation of self and the world, so that if you lose Christ at the center, you lose man and the world with it. You can’t reach them from there. You can’t reach high enough.

But that’s not to say that our Maker did not create us and the world with some necessarily man centered thinking. Charity, for example, is an expression of the moral nature of God but an expression of the second greatest commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” God doesn’t need charity. Whoever misses that, misses the greatest commandment with it. To love God is primary, not to be harping on the obvious, because the reason for the second greatest commandment is that it is the expression of the greatest commandment. That’s what makes the greatest one the greatest. Bono said, “My God’s not short’a cash mister.” Neither is Bono, but the rest of us could use some help now and again.

We’ve all met people that seem to be by nature inherently lovable and they both inspire and irritate the rest of us. But we love others because we love God. The source of their lovableness is not in themselves and so we don’t really need to consider their unlovablenesses before loving them. Our love for them whether felt, thought, or spoken through deeds of mercy and justice is the love for God visible to those created in His image and likeness.

He loved us when we were not so lovable; how could we withhold due benevolence from another? Do you remember that guy in the Bible that was forgiven a great debt but then had another guy thrown into prison for the smallest offense? God is not pleased with that kind of thing. Those who are forgiven much must be first-rate forgivers. C’mon. Push yourself. Strain for it. Start with me.

Christopher Neiswonger