Intelligentsia Coffee

I've been back from the States for a couple of weeks now, but just haven't managed to get around to blogging a bit more. However, amidst the silence, there has been one thought that has been running through my head this whole time: the cup of coffee I had at Intelligentsia.

I don't think it would be a stretch to say that the latte I had at this Chicago based coffeehouse was the best cup of coffee I have ever had. Now I'm no coffee connoisseur, but I do know the difference between bad, mediocre and good. This particular cup was excellent.

Why was it so good? I'm not sure. Like I said, I'm not a connoisseur. However, it was so smooth, a great micro-foam, wonderful aroma, a full taste and not a hint of bitterness. The last sip at the end of the cup was just as good as the first.

I'd heared about Intelligentsia some time ago on a podcast at Coffee Geek, but had forgotten about it. Then, while in America I came across it again on an AOL poll of the best coffee in the USA - it was ranked second. I was interested to see that they had three cafes in Chicago (and one in LA) especially as we were going to be spending a couple of days in the windy city. And then I discovered it was just five blocks from our hotel!!!

We were staying in Chicago for two nights which meant that, once the kids were in bed, one of us would explore on one night and the other the next. My research told me that Intelligentsia where open until 10pm. I took the first night and made my way from the corner of Diversey and Clark, up Broadway to the coffeehouse. Eventually I found the location...only to discover that they had closed early for staff training!!! I could see them through the window, sitting around a table laughing and drinking America's second best coffee. I managed to catch the eye of one employee and quickly seized upon the opportunity to mime flying a plane then pointing at myself then pointing at her, but it was to no avail. (Now that I think about it, I wonder what she thought I was trying to say?)

Anyway, my wonderful wife, faithful and generous partner that she is, came back early the next night so I could try getting that coffee that I wanted without flaying my arms around in the process.

I brought home a couple of bags of their coffee which I'm trying to make last until Christmas morning, but I'm getting through the beans pretty quickly. There in lies the only downside to the experience. Intelligentsia only send their coffee beans (sold within 24 hours of roasting) across the USA and Canada. However, a bar has been set for standards in coffee. I suspect it will be sometime until I meet that standard again.

Kofenya

My in-law family live in a small town in Ohio called Oxford, home of Miami University (not to be confused with University of Miami - which is in the part of the country that you would expect it to be).

I've always liked Oxford. It has a nice feel to it and, due to a high student population, a number of cool cafes. My wife provided me with the opportunity to escape for a few minutes so I headed uptown to get some coffee. I came across Kofenya (apparently Russian for coffee) which I hadn't noticed before, but has apparently been there for about five years. It's the kind of place that I would think of when I thought about a coffeehouse. Nice atmosphere without being dark and grungy, the buzz of conversation and the aroma of coffee that could be smelled before you entered the door.

Every other table had someone using a laptop (I really should get one - it would make blogging more fun), people were studying, listening to their ipods or just conversing. One woman was weaving bracelets and another couple of friends were talking about the difference between Christians and non-Christians. I wish I could have heard more of what they were saying - you don't get conversations like that much amongst college aged students in Dublin.

All-in-all it was just a cool place to hang out. Plus it was the sort of place that on a good day could make you feel younger than you are, but on a bad day could well have the opposite effect!

I hoping I can visit a couple of the other cafes in Oxford before I leave.

True to its name

Travelling to see the in-laws meant a flight to Chicago, rent a car and drive for about five hours. There are closer airports, but it would have meant changing planes and we wanted to keep that kind of hassle to a minimum with our kids - plus it means an excuse for a couple of days in Chicago on the way home.

We decided to break the drive up with a stop at a motel in the middle of Indiana. By the time we arrived it was about 8pm local time, but it felt like 2:00am. Of course, this didn't stop me from going out for a cup of coffee once the kids were settled.

The place where we stayed didn't have much going for it, but I couldn't resist heading across to the 'Iron Skillet' - a dinner connected with a gas station. The first thing I noticed was that it was a smoking restaurant with a small area reserved for those of us who were a little more picky.

I chose to sit in a booth, but what I really wanted to do was sit with the truckers on stools at the counter. However, I noticed that there were a couple of things missing that would make it obvious that I was a fake - a well worn cap, an abundance of hair. Oh and a truck.

Within seconds of sitting down my waitress came and asked if I'd like something to drink. I ordered coffee and it soon arrived. A classic diner cup with a rounded rim and a slight curve to the body. It was accompanied by my own pot of coffee for me to refill as I pleased - God bless America!

Of course, I couldn't just order a coffee. I needed something with it. So, although it was now pressing on for 3:00am for me I ordered a plate of blueberry pancakes and watched ESPN while I waited. Soon enough my order arrived: pancakes and crispy bacon, little tubs of whipped butter and a small jug of warmed syrup all served on - what else? - an iron skillet. Brilliant.

On my way out I noticed that they were doing a Thanksgiving special on Thursday, but while I was intrigued with the thought of turkey, sweet potatoes and corn served up on a skillet I think enjoying it with family will be far better.

Cafe Americano

We are in the States for a few weeks visiting my wife's family in Ohio for Thanksgiving. So I hope to blog a little about coffee on this side of the Pond...

ZZZzzzzz

Oh man, I'm tired this evening. I think life with three young children is beginning to catch up on me. I'm not sure coffee will help, but I'll give it a go...

Poor Girl

As I was going for coffee this evening I heard a clunk-and-crash coming from a lane way just off the main street I was walking along. As I got closer I saw young girl whose entire exhaust had just fallen off her car! I paused for a moment wondering how I could help, but seeing two people talking with her I kept on walking on the other side of the road.

When I arrived at the coffeehouse and placed my book on the table while I removed my coat I was struck by its title: Beyond the Good Samaritan.

I felt awful.

Playing the Game

It was a quiet evening when I arrived at my local coffeehouse tonight and the area where I sat, with six small sofas and about a dozen cube-seats, was only occupied by a young couple, early twenties I'd say.

They started to kiss.

Now when I say kiss I mean they were really going for it the way that young lovers do when they don't give a stuff who else is around. Look, I'm no stranger to seeing people kiss in public, but wow, this was something else. He was really making a move on her. I think he might of been wanting to taste what she had for breakfast!

And then the strangest thing happened. They stopped kissing, he ordered a blueberry muffin and then proceeded to explain how to play chess!

Now when I say explaining the rules of chess I mean he was really going for it in a big way using packets if sugar, empty cups and a half eaten muffin to illustrate how each piece moves. The lesson concluded with this quote:

"A good chess player will be able to think five moves ahead. I can only think two or three moves ahead."

Yeah, thinks I, and I bet that it isn't just limited to chess.

I know that look!

As the coffeehouse got busier this evening another couple sat in my section of the room. They were a bit different from the other couple. I could tell that straight away. Despite the fact that they were sitting on a love seat she was giving him the cold shoulder while he ate his caramel ice cream. Her arms were cross and her gaze was slightly downward, staring at nothing in particular.

He gave her a little playful nudge on her knee to which she responds by slowly turning towards him, and if looks could kill...

Ohhh, I feel for you, man.

I wanted to go over and ask if everything was okay, but because I has become quite good at ignoring a need this evening I decided to leave them be. Instead I said a quick prayer for them both and within a few minutes they were smiling at each other. They even shared some cake.

I felt much better.

It made me think of a friend (and boss) of mine who gave me some wise counsel before I got married regarding falling out with your partner from time to time. The reality is that couples will have arguments that hurt, but it's the kissing and making up that is fun.

I think these two could take some practical advice on how to do this from the other couple sitting across from them (who had by now managed to track down a chess set and were actually playing!)

Beating the Credit Crunch

This morning my wife suggested an idea for saving money - at least €3 that would otherwise have been spent on a latte: Make your own lattes at home without an expensive espresso maker and milk frother.

I've tried this before (without great success), but my wife had a twist on the frothermation. (That's a new word. It means the formation of froth.)

Simply make a pot of coffee as usual. Then fill an empty jam jar with milk. Put the milk in the microwave for a couple of minutes - or until just after you see it bubbling over - then put the lid on the jar and shake vigorously. The jar I mean, not yourself (unless you want the contents of your stomach to experience frothermation).

As it happened, yesterday evening's late snack was toast and we used up the last of the marmalade so we had a jar available to give it a go.

I wouldn't say that it was the frothiest coffee I've ever had, but it was certainly the orangiest!

Smoke Free

Even though it has only been three or four years since the smoking ban in public places came into force in Ireland, it's somewhat difficult to imagine it as not being something that has always been in existence - such is the overwhelming success of the project. The Irish government have tried hard in this area of public health action. They continue to discourage smoking with annual increases in the price of cigarettes - another 50 cents was added just a couple of weeks ago.

The other day I was sitting in the area formerly designated the smoking room of my local coffeehouse. I soon noticed that smoking was in the room again only not in a physical sense, but as a matter of discussion.

A group of four people (who didn't all arrive together) were discussing their trials of giving up the cigarettes as a topic of conversation. It didn't look like they had intended to meet for this reason, but a micro-community seemed to have formed and an ad hoc ex-smokers support group was in the making. They spoke about how difficult it was to give up, what gum they chewed as an alternative or how often they changed the patch.

It caused my mind to think about a couple of elderly people I know, both smokers. I am aware that they are on limited pensions and live in very humble dwellings and most definitely cannot afford to smoke. And yet they do. Such is the grip that tobacco has on people - many of whom started smoking when it was fashionable and health concerns were of no concern at all. Suddenly I viewed the 50 cent increase as unfair. Completely understandable, but for some unfair. It also made me loathe the tobacco companies even more.

My faith background has traditionally held a strong position in relation to harmful substances and it continues to do so. I am proud to say that I have never smoked a cigarette in my life - a testament to at least something in my upbringing holding fast. (I wish I could say the same for every piece of wise advice offered me!) That doesn't put me in a better position, but it does cause me to ask, what could I do to help? Because I don't imagine that the extra revenue created from adding 50 cents to a packet of cigs will be filtered back in some form to help my old smoking friends to quit.


By the way, if you are a smoker who is trying to give up: God's grace and strength to you!

Starbucks in Dalkey

A few months ago I mentioned that there was quite a stir in the coastal village/town of Dalkey, just south of Dublin. Plans were underway for opening a Starbucks and some locals didn't like the idea.

Anyway, Starbucks went ahead and opened a couple of weeks ago and as I was kind of passing Dalkey I had the opportunity to pop in for a latte this week. (My wife would later dispute the 'kind of passing Dalkey' and was a little concerned that it meant our kids who were with me only had cookies and crisps for lunch - plus a bottle of expensive fresh orange juice, I retorted!)

My first impression of this Starbucks was...I couldn't find it! This has to be the most discrete store I've ever seen. I drove past three times before I saw it. Once inside, I have to say, I really liked it. Although there wasn't many places to sit on the ground floor, the upstairs looked like a great place to hang out/do business/study/meet friends, plus anything else that makes Starbucks more than just over-priced coffee.

Now to be fair I didn't get a chance to visit any of the other cafes in that town, but there does seem to be a few choices. Reports from locals suggest particular loyalty to the other coffee shops so there shouldn't be any worry about those ones going out of business. Right?

Going too far for coffee

I woke up this morning and decided to make a 300 mile round trip just to get a cup of coffee.

In my quest to visit every Starbucks in ROI I knew that my biggest challenge was going to be getting a latte from stores outside of Dublin. The Starbucks website has two such stores listed. One in Kildare and the other in Cork.

I have already managed to visit the Kildare store. I'd rate it as one of the nicest Starbucks around. It's in a small outlet mall (with a great kids playground) just outside of the town (or city?) of Kildare, about an hour's drive from home.

As for Cork, that was going to be another matter. But today, I did it! And it was relatively simple.

Fortunately the store in Cork is at Cork International Airport, so when I saw Ryanair doing a special offer for flights I couldn't resist the opportunity for knocking this one off my list. The latte cost more than the plane tickets!

It was all a bit if a surreal experience, walking up to the barista and ordering my drink, a wry smile on my face. I was desperate to tell him what I was doing, but as it's all a bit silly I decided not too.

After the coffee I bought a sandwich and sat outside of the airport on a sunny embankment. Then I got on a plane and came home again.

Now I need to quickly finish off visiting the last couple of stores in Dublin so I can say I did it because if they open up a store in, say, Leitrim I'm not sure that I'll ever get around to completing the task.

Tim Tam Slam

I first had a Tim Tam biscuit when I was visiting my folks when they lived in Australia about 6 or 7 years ago. The Tim Tam is an Aussie institution. It's kind of like a Penguin biscuit - only not as dense. So it was on that visit that I first discovered the 'Tim Tam slam'.

About a year or so ago I noticed that you can now get Tim Tams in Ireland. (You can get them in the UK too, and in USA I think they are called 'Arnotts Originals'). Every now and then a packet finds its way home from the grocery store.

Anyway, today I favoured a cup of coffee for my afternoon break as opposed to my usual tea and I opened the biscuit tin for something suitable to dunk. Tim Tams! And I just had to do a Tim Tam slam. It was so good I felt I had to blog about it!

By now some readers may be wondering what a Tim Tam slam is. Check out this video that gives clear, step by step instructions as to what to do.

I should say that slamming with a cup of tea would work, but if you can drink coffee then the flavours work better.

Let me know if you give it a go.

What were you doing when…?

I've been drawn into another meme by Ali! This time it's about significant events in recent history from my perspective. Here goes…

Princess Diana's death – 31^st August 1997

I was assistant director of a Salvation Army summer camp for children in north-east Ohio, USA (Camp Neosa). The main season had ended and the kids returned to school, but for the last couple of weeks in August we ran sessions for others – older people or church groups. As I recall it was Labor Day weekend and people from Salvation Army churches across north-east Ohio had gathered for the annual 'Camp Meetings' – worship services, bible studies, BBQs, hanging out. It was always an easier pace than the rest of the summer so I quite enjoyed it.

It was over breakfast on the Sunday morning (5 hours behind UK time) that someone came and told me what the news was. I think at first I thought they were joking. Obviously they weren't.

A few days later on the day of the funeral my girlfriend (now wife) came over to my apartment at about five in the morning so we could watch the funeral. Two things about the funeral struck me. One was a marvellous piece of choral music that I don't actually remember what it was called, but all the way through it was a sustained pedal-point drone sung by the basses. The other thing was the images of flowers being thrown on to the hearse as it drove along its route.

I can remember thinking at the time that there seemed to be an awful lot of fuss about this woman and it wasn't as if Mother Teresa had died. That happened six days later on 5^th September 1997.

Margaret Thatcher's resignation – 22^nd November 1990

I wasn't particularly interested in politics in 1990 and so couldn't say for sure what I was doing when this event took place. I do remember the striking photo of her in the car leaving Downing Street – the Iron Lady, crying.

Attack on the Twin Towers – 11^th September 2001

I'm sure for many in my generation this will be our JFK-assassination-where-were-you moment.

My wife and I were just a couple of days into our training for ministry in The Salvation Army at their theological college in London having moved to the UK from the States earlier that summer. We had had some kind of introductory class in the morning followed by lunch with our "session mates" and staff. The afternoon was set aside for official photos. It was after we had been photographed and were walking down a corridor that a member of staff stopped us to say that there had been a plane crash in America – the full extent of what had happened was not yet clear to reporting media. (I could tell a similar story of travel news reports on the radio regarding a malfunction or "power surge" on the London Underground on 7^th July 2005).

My wife and I returned to our little flat to continuing unpacking and arranging furniture. I decided to turn the TV on to see if there was anything on the news about this plane crash. What we saw shocked and stunned us and will forever be imprinted in our minds. One of the towers had been hit by a plane in what seemed to be a horrific accident. A few minutes later we watched as the second plane struck instantly changing the perspective of the scene.

As the afternoon progressed lots of people came around to see us and ask about my wife's family – a thousand miles from New York. We assumed they were ok, but it was impossible for quite some time to get a phone connection to the USA so great was the demand for communication.

My wife planted a small American flag outside as a symbol of solidarity. I was touched when, later that evening, I noticed that some of the teenagers whose parents we were training with had placed a few candles by the flag, and a hand written prayer.

England's World Cup semi-final v Germany – 4^th July 1990

I was a teenager living in Felixstowe, Suffolk. A few friends had come around to my house to watch the game and we were all bitterly disappointed with the result. I have a feeling one of my friends kicked a bird table in our back garden and broke the top off. Later on, as we wondered through our small town centre that evening, I saw a Germany football shirt in the window of a sports shop. I spat at it. (Not a very proud memory that. Sorry.)

President Kennedy's Assassination – 22^nd November 1963

Umm, if I was a teenager in 1990 I'm sure you can appreciate that this event has very little emotional attachment for me. Like Ali though I have enjoyed the conspiracy theories.

Right, now I've got to think of a couple of people who could have a go at answering these…

I'm going to nominate my wife even though the only two that will really apply to her are items 1 and 3 – both of which I was with her at the time. It might be interesting to hear her side of the same event.

I'll also nominate jsi and miz melly.

Finally, I am going to randomly choose a complete stranger by clicking the "Next blog" button above. So…

mints it's over to you! (Poor girl has lost her snail).

Begining of the End for Starbucks?

Ali was kind enough to think about me today as she read a news report on the BBC's business pages. (I'm not sure what I'm more impressed about - the fact that Ali thought of me or that she reads the business news!)

It looks like Starbucks are planning to close 61 of its stores in Australia - more than 70% of its business! This reminded me of news last week that for the first time since Starbucks went public 16 years ago they have encountered a loss in their quarterly finances. Is this a sign of changing times for Starbucks?

However, I have more conclusive proof! I decided to take my game of visiting every Starbucks in ROI a little more seriously and have knocked off a few more from my target. (Look out for a future blog about this on 17th September).

Currently, the Starbucks website for the Republic of Ireland shows that there are 25 stores waiting to be visited. My current figure is 15. (Although it could be 16 as I can't remember if have been to the one at Liffey Valley shopping centre. I should have taken photos!)

BUT, I have my suspicions that Starbucks are not as big as they say they are! I recently noticed that there were two listed in Blackrock. I'd already visited the one in the old Post Office, so I purposefully went back to the town last weekend. There was no trace of the second store and one of the baristas at the Post Office told me they were the only ones. On closer inspection of the website listing the "second" store is given the same street address that the Post Office is on. This double listing also causes me to doubt that the details of the store at the IFSC in Dublin and a store on Custom House Quay are not two separate stores, but one. The IFSC is located on Custom House Quay!

But wait, there's more!

The clincher for me that Starbucks are in trouble is the fact I have noticed in a couple of their stores (and I presume nationwide) that they are offering FREE REFILLS on their filter coffee. Now, I whole heartedly welcome the introduction of free refills (most places on this side of the Atlantic are too tight to make that offer), but I have never come across this at Starbucks. Bring on the loyalty cards too!

What does this mean for Starbucks in Ireland? Interestingly, what could this mean for Starbucks in Dalkey? (Check out some of the comments since I posted a while back).

I don't know! What do you think?

What I do think is that I better finish my game quickly before I wind up with a sense of failure if a store closes before I get to it.

Cup Holders - Breaking News!

In order to combat the mind numbing task of grocery shopping (I'm not sure now how it wound up as my responsibility) I decided to go to a different store than usual. I went to a local store of the chain referred to below - and low and behold they had trolleys with "cup holders". Plus a separate holder for the scanner gun!!! (And one for a bunch of flowers).

Could it really be a cup holder?!?

Yes!

A regular latte was swiftly bought from the store cafe and I went about my task in a much better mood.

Salad, onions, (sip, sip) bread, milk, cheese, (sip, sip) washing powder, orange juice, (Hey, look at me everyone. I'm drinking a cup of coffee while putting frozen peas in my trolley).

It just felt right.

Cup Holders

I once read that in America one of the primary issues for many people when buying a car is how many cup holders it has got. Whether or not this is true I do not know. I like to think that it is as it would be a factor for me given the choice. My latest car has no "real" cup holder in the front - just improvised one that are very likely to cause an accident one day. I actually think that the car manufacturer has purposely left out cup holders in the front (there are plenty in the back) in order to discourage drivers to be drinking coffee/tea/whatever while driving in an unsafe manner. They might have a point. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has put a vehicle worth thousands of Euro in jeopardy just for the sake of trying to balance a hot cup of coffee and a donut worth less than five Euro.

Anyway. I happened to go into a grocery store today (a slightly more up market store than usual) and I noticed an addition to the traditional shopping trolley. It was a cup holder! This is a great idea and one that I have been waiting to see implemented for a while. Truly, I am a man before my own time.


Hmmmm, hang on. On further reflection, I wonder if it was actually a holder for the automatic scanner gun that some stores let you take around the shop?

The Joy of Coffee

This evening, as soon as the kids were in bed, I dashed out to get to a toy store in the city centre before it closed. I needed to pick up a present for our daughter's birthday. It's not until next week, but I have this awful habit of seeing something great and waiting to get it/book it/see it and then wind up missing it all together. So many times! Anyway, I got there just before they closed and managed to buy the item I wanted - last on the shelf.

While I was in the area I thought I'd head around corner to go and see The Dark Knight. Unfortunately all the viewings for the rest of the evening were sold out. (Nicoley has a review).

Fortunately I had a back-up plan prepared: a book under my arm and the knowledge that it was just a couple of minutes walk, over the River Liffey, and into Temple Bar. I love the Temple Bar area and don't get down there nearly enough. It has a great buzz about the place especially in the evening. I knew I would find somewhere good for coffee and I wasn't disappointed.

I stoped in to The Joy of Coffee. Immediately I liked it. It is a small coffeehouse with a distinct continental feel to it - solid wooden tables, a simple vase of flowers and chairs that creak. Ireland has had a smoking ban in public places for a few years now which I am very pleased about, but I must admit that the occasional whiff of smoke blowing in through the open door from passers by did add a little something extra. I wish we all could have got together and sat around one of the big tables.

I headed for the rear of the cafe, a darkened area with a bar and stools across the back wall and only a small lamp to give any light. It gave me a view of behind the counter where I could watch the staff pull the shots and serve slices of cheesecake drizzled with caramel. I sat next to the lamp in order to read my book, Surprised by Hope (which Tea4Two says she is going to review ;-)

In choosing my drink I opted for something different that usual: a cortado. I'd not heard of it before so I thought I'd give it a try. It's a shot of espresso with a dash of steamed milk and a touch of foam - basically a mini latte. I really liked it and could picture myself having one each morning. It's espresso with a bit of the edge taken off. Nice.

I left the cafe thinking it would ages before I would come back again then it dawned on me that it would take less than 10 minutes to cycle there and I wouldn't have to worry about finding somewhere to park in the city. Plus they are open late!

This is just as well because I think the seats by the large window at the front looking out on to the cobbled streets of Temple Bar seem very appealing.

Lost in Translation

I was in a cafe the other day and a group of tourists from France came in, excitedly. I wouldn't have described the cafe as something of Parisian quality (although I'm sure there are some bad cafes in Paris), but the group felt it worthy of taking a photo nonetheless.

One lady took charge, ordered the other half dozen or so women to move chairs, get from behind menus and freeze in a suitable pose.

I don't know an awful lot of French, but I've remembered a few words here and there (un café s'il vous plait). So I smiled when I heard the photographer's request:

"Dites le fromage!"

I think the meaning behind the phrase got somewhat lost along the way.

Thanks Wallace

I'm finally getting around to making some changes to the look of my blog, but I just wanted to say thanks to Wallace (he is currently swimming in shark infested waters! Well, wading in them at least.) for setting up and taking the photo that is my current header.

Thanks!

Pray As You Go

It might be that you like to take a few minutes quiet out of your day to spend some time in reflection or reading or praying. To help and encourage me in my faith journey I think this aspect is important. However, (as I've said before) I'm not very good at keeping the discipline.

I wish I was one of those people who could get up at day break, make a pot of coffee and retreat to a room in the house where you spend some time with God. But I'm not, so I'm always looking for fresh ways to make this connection.

I have come across Pray As You Go which is a site run by the British Jesuits. It's a ten minute or so daily podcast (Mon-Fri) that includes a piece of music, a Bible reading, a thought and some space for private prayer. It's a contemplative way of connection with God which you can do sitting at your computer, or put it on you mp3 player and take it with you! I subscribe through itunes (you don't need an ipod) which makes it easy to have ready when I want it.

Today's (23rd July) piece of music is particularly beautiful. Maybe you would find the site helpful too?

Why I Dislike Iced Tea

Jessie made a comment about the joys of iced tea - and questioned it being the worst thing in the world I have ever had. Ok, so there are worse things in life than iced tea. Much worse. However...

Want to know why I don't like the stuff?

Back in 1994, during a summer break from studying film and TV at college (what a great way to spend a few years at college!) I worked at a Salvation Army summer camp in California (what a great way to spend the summer!) Two major life events occurred at Camp Gilmore. I feel in love with a lifeguard from Ohio who later became my wife. I also realised, in a more grown-up sort of way, that God loved me too and there was nothing I could do about it. However, neither of these points have anything to do with iced tea.

Summer in California is hot. And dry. The whole season I was there it almost threatened to drizzle once, but didn't actually manage to muster itself up to that point. Kind of the complete opposite of an Irish summer.

It was on a particularly hot afternoon, after a hike through the camp trails, that I entered the dinning area and spotted the tables all prepared for the evening meal. On top of the tables were jugs (pitchers) of icy cold, golden coloured drinks. My taste buds, parched as they were, worked up the ability to send signals to my brain to inform me that one of my favourite drinks was ready and waiting for my consumption. The pre-thought of flavour flooded my mouth as I poured a glass and took a huge gulp of apple juice..............no wait!

Iced tea!

Unsweetened!!!

My senses were devastated and I've never returned to the vile stuff again.


By the way, any hot tea drinker worth their salt will tell you that on a warm day a cup of tea is more refreshing than a cold drink.

Heavenly Cafe

My wonderful wife suggested that I go out for the morning by myself. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I put a book in my backpack and jumped on my bike to find a cafe that was open at 9:00am on a Saturday. The one I wanted to go to wasn't open yet, but just down the street was one that was open and I had been meaning to go to it for a while now - the Heavenly Cafe.

I'm not sure really why it is called Heavenly Cafe. I should have asked. I'm sure I'll go back again because they had quite a nice looking breakfast menu. I just stuck to a latte and blueberry muffin (served with cream!?).

You have probably noticed at restaurants or cafes that waiting staff are given a little signal to let them know that an order is ready - maybe a light is switched on or someone jingles a little bell. I had to smile in the way they did it at the Heavenly Cafe. It was the sound of a doorbell - you know, bing-bong. I imagined sitting in a cafe in heaven, hearing a doorbell and thinking, 'Oh, someone must have just arrived!'

13 of 24

My wife works so hard with our kids and doesn't get the breaks she deserves. So this morning I suggested that I drop her off, on her own, at a large bookshop while I take the three kids (almost 4yrs, 2 yrs, and 8 weeks) to a café. Oh man, was that ever a mistake? I did have an ulterior motive and it was to get a latte from a Starbucks that I haven't visited yet in my effort to get a coffee from every Starbucks in Ireland. You need to know that they only arrived on these shores about two years ago. Now they are opening thick and fast and I'm not sure how I'm going to visit the one at Cork Airport. I've had 75% visitation, but now I'm down to just over 50%.

I have to say, it didn't really matter today that I couldn't enjoy a relaxed coffee and muffin as the store I visited has to be the worst location for a Starbucks I've ever been in! Never mind, I can cross it off my list and won't have to go back again.

Ironically, I have yet to visit the Starbucks just a three minute cycle ride from my home!

One for the Tea Ladies

I gather that there are some readers who wouldn't touch a cup of coffee with a barge pole. Fair enough, I understand. I feel the same way about mushrooms and coconut. However, it would appear that you do like to drink tea. (I trust it is the hot variety and not – I can hardly bring myself to say it – iced tea. I'd rather have a bowl of Thai style mushroom soup.)

It is certainly no bad thing to like tea. Actually I probably drink more tea than coffee each day, but will rarely "go out" for tea. Anyway, for tea drinkers everywhere, can I recommend a book that my wife picked up for me today during her hour of leisure? It's a book about the great British cuppa and all that goes along with that. It could equally be about the great Irish cuppa as, I think, the Irish drink more tea per capita than the English. The book is called Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down. If you are from this general area of the world you will instantly understand this cultural reference, nod your head and think, yes, I do like to sit down at some point in the day with a nice cup of tea. It's just what you do.

The book covers everything you need for a basic understanding of tea – the tea bag, the tea pot, choice of cup or mug, etc. But there's more: As the book says, "A cup of tea without a biscuit is a wasted opportunity." So there is an extensive section on all things biscuity with reviews of some of the most popular biscuits – Custard Creams, Digestives, Shorties, Malted Milk, Lincoln, Tunnock's Wafer, Fig Rolls, Hob-Nobs, Party Rings, Mint Viscounts, and much more! Kimberleys get a mention as do Oreos (although Oreos are not looked upon with the same nostalgic charm on this side of the Pond). There is also a shorter section on cakes (including the debate, is a Jaffa Cake a cake or a biscuit?), plus a section at the end on the actual sitting down process of the tea break.

Apparently it is a very funny book. I say apparently because I only read the first chapter before my wife picked it up and started laughing out loud from the sofa while she fed the baby and I fed the kids.

The authors also have a website which I have previously mentioned.

Now, have you put the kettle on yet?

Latte

I've often wondered why lattes are sometimes served in a glass, rather than a traditional mug or cup. Today I think I found out the potential of why.

This evening I made my self-promised return to Rotana Cafe for a latte and some baklava. I was not disappointed.

Maybe it was because, when I arrived, I was the only person in the cafe that the server took such care with my drink - or maybe she treats each act of service the same way. No matter, what was presented to me was a picture. Sitting at the western facing window with the evening sun warming the view, and being in no particular rush, I took the time to take admire this act of micro-art:

The latte, served in a clear glass, was comprised of three tones of brown. At the bottom was a creamy coffee colour followed above by a wide band the colour of caramel. The top layer looked like it was a rich, hot chocolate the dark shade of which contrasted against the cap of foam - a clean, pure white head of froth. And then - the piece de resistance - a single espresso bean decorated the top.

I watched the bean as it slowly...slowly...very slowly sank through its foam bed and was baptised into the essence of its own becoming.

Delightful.

Sitting with Patrick

Following dreary skies this morning, the weather cleared for a beautiful late June afternoon. Looking for something to do with the kids we returned to the Grand Canal for coffee and a stroll. Only this time, the young toddler was a fast and fearless two year old! Not quite so leisurely.

However, we did stop and sit with Patrick Kavanagh again which gives me an excuse to print another of his poems.

I was out on a walk last Good Friday and stopped into a small church where a choir was practicing. At the back was a book-counter with a few items for sale. I bought a book with a collection of Kavanagh's work just because of this poem:

A View of God and the Devil
Patrick Kavanagh

God

I met God the Father in the street
And the adjectives by which I would describe him are these:
Amusing
Experimental
Irresponsible -
About frivolous things.
He was not a man who would be appointed to a Board
Nor impress a bishop
Or gathering of art lovers.

He was not splendid, fearsome or terrible
And yet not insignificant.
This was my God who made the grass
And the sun,
And stones in streams in April;
This was the God I met in Dublin
As I wandered the unconscious streets.

This was the God that brooded over the harrowed field -
Rooneys - beside the main Carrick Road
The day my first verse was printed -
I knew him and was never afraid
Of death or damnation;
And I knew that the fear of God was the beginning of folly.

The Devil

I met the Devil too,
And the adjectives by which I would describe him are these:
Solemn,
Boring,
Conservative.
He was a man the world would appoint to a Board,
He would be on the list of invitees for a bishop's garden party,
He would look like an artist.
He was the fellow who wrote in the newspapers about music,
Got into a rage when someone laughed;
He was serious about unserious things;
You had to be careful about his inferiority complex
For he was conscious of being uncreative.

Rotana Cafe

I'm loving my new bike! It's great for short trips around the place without any fuss.

This afternoon I needed to drop a film off to be processed (yes, I'm the other guy who still uses a film camera from time to time). I decided to take my bike because I knew I'd be passing a new cafe in the area and trying to park the car would have been too much hassle.

So I stopped in to Rotana Cafe in the Portobello area of the city. It's a nice Lebanese/Palestinian cafe (Lebastinian??) serving delicious sounding foods from that part of the world. If you visit their website, don't be put off by the homepage photo. I guess they took it while they were getting ready to open for business - every business needs a web presence, right? (Don't also assume that the photos on this page are in Portobello - if only!)

I didn't have much time to stop so it was just a quick espresso and a pastry, sitting at a great window seat. The place has good service, nice look and, best of all, is open late in the evenings!

I'll definitely be back for a leisurely latte, a book and some baklava.

When two worlds almost collide

Last week, as a family, we had the opportunity to take a couple of days break and head to the West of Ireland. I knew that we wouldn't be far from blogging buddy Walace, so I thought this was too good an opportunity to pass up. A face to face, real world encounter with another blogger. Over coffee.

Ironically, Walace was going to be over on my side of the country while I was in his. This didn't deter me though. A tip from Walace lead me to his local cafe. It's an Arabica Coffee Company cafe, a coffee chain local to County Galway - although it looks like they are coming to Dublin this summer.

Anyway, despite it being a bit small to accommodate a family of five and a mother-in-law, the cafe was a warm and welcome relief from what we had just experienced a few minutes earlier. The kids liked the huge chocolate Rice Krispie Treats!

Tagged by Ali

A few days ago (too many really), Ali tagged me. I haven't had a chance to do any blogging recently even though I've wanted to. But I had the nagging thought in my head that said, 'You need to answer that tag before you write anything else'. So here it is:

I love the smell of ... Coffee. I know I would say that, but it's true!
People would say that I ... can be quite creative.
I don't understand why ... people don't (can't or won't) believe in God or at least some "good force" behind our existence.
When I wake up in the morning ... I wonder why I stayed up so late the night before.
I lost my willpower to ... stop eating chocolate. I had a go once for a couple of weeks. It's not worth it.
Life is ... good. Very, very good. And precious.
My past made me ... what I am today. (Well, duh!) Some hard times, some sad times, lots of good times.
I get annoyed when ... cyclists go straight through a red traffic light when I am crossing the road with my children. I've lately taken to shouting at them and tonight I purposefully ran in front of a bike because the didn't stop. An old man swore at me yesterday because I made him swerve!
Parties are not a good time to ... I'm struggling with this answer because my mind keeps going back to what Ali wrote!
Dogs are ... almost bearable.
Cats are ... completely unbearable.
Tomorrow is ... Thursday. (Is that what you meant??)
I have a low tolerance for ... screaming.
I'm totally terrified of ... Hmm, terrified is pretty strong. I'm not sure I would let anything grip me with such fear. I hate the thought of something awful happening to my wife and kids, but why would anyone dwell on something that is very, very, very unlikely to happen?
I wonder why I thought my life would be ... of huge significance to lots of people? Because I'm prideful, perhaps. Something big may yet happen. Maybe on Thursday.
Never in my life have I ... smoked a cigarette
High school was ... good fun.
When I'm nervous ... I take a deep breath, get on with it and tell myself that tomorrow is Thursday and everything will be different.
One time at a family gathering ... I followed a wedding photographer around and copied every shot he took. Years later, as I worked as a wedding photographer, I realised how annoying that must have been.
Take my advice ... don't worry. It's going to be ok.
I'm almost always ... late.
I'm addicted to ... coffee?? Me? No way! I could give it up anytime I wanted. I just choose not to. Maybe I'll drink decaf tomorrow. No wait, tomorrow is Thursday. That's not a good day to start decaffeinating my life…
I want someone to ... discover what it really means to have a real and natural experience of God and an understanding of the ways of Jesus. That's a bit of a deep one to finish with, but I think that is what is at the heart of who I am. And you?

Back in the Saddle

I bought a bicycle today. It's been a long time coming, but I finally just went ahead and got it. There are a number of reasons I got a bike. Partly because of the ecological nature of cycling; partly because of the rising price of fuel; but mostly because I think I put on some "sympathy weight" when my wife was pregnant. I'm talking about for baby number one - like I said, it's been a long time coming.

The last time I owned my own bike was when I was in school, so this evening after the kids were put to bed and the littlest one was snoozing in my wife's arms I headed out for my inaugural ride. Where would I go? Of course...get some coffee.

I've mentioned in the past that most coffee shops and cafes around here close by about 8:00pm. So I found myself unintentionally drawn in to the city centre of Dublin to seek out some coffee.

The ride into the city was great! It was just like being a kid again - only now as an adult being fully aware of how dangerous it is to ride a bike in the city. But that didn't matter. The rush of the wind in my hair, the ability to pass cars in a line, the thrill of going up a one way street the wrong way and the agility needed to ride alongside the tracks of the Luas line. (There's probably some bike safety awareness video discouraging that last one. It probably involved little Jimmy getting his wheels stuck in the track and then getting his head squashed by a tram.)

When I made it the coffee shop I decided to order something different, a little more in keeping with this new zipping-around mobile lifestyle. Usually I am regular latte man. But this evening I became double espresso guy. (I rarely drink espresso - although I may a little more in the future - and I think the last time I had a double espresso was the night before I got married, almost nine years ago. I don't drink alcohol so I think this was probably the stiffest drink available to me).

Anyway, that extra zing this evening gave me the boost to get back on my bike and head back home. Uphill.

Dalkey against Starbucks

In local news this week is the story that Dalkey, a small town just south of Dublin, is up in arms at the prospect of a Starbucks cafe on their doorstep. Like many places around the world, the residents of Dalkey don't like the idea of globalisation coming to their idyllic coastal village. (Sorry folks. Living in 21st century Ireland means globalisation is already there even if McDonald's are not - does the local pub sell Guinness?).

A Bebo site has been set to garner support for their protest: Dalkey against Starbucks.

Along with the issues of globalisation, the biggest concern seems to be for the welfare of locally owned businesses. Particularly cafes. I too would have that concern and, in fact Starbucks even admit to their tactic being total coffee domination of a local area. (See article below).

However, my view has changed slightly when I came across an article in Slate. In the article it is proposed that having a Starbucks open in your area is actually a good thing for local cafes for the simple reason that having a Starbucks creates a buzz (literally!) and draws people into the area for coffee. The report highlights that when people get fed up with standing in long lines for coffee they opt for the independent cafe next door. The independents also have a flexibility in what they serve and at what price, which a franchise like Starbucks don't. So when SB sell a tall latte for 3.00 euro, you could sell yours for 2.50 and still probably make a 300% profit! (Plus SB don't have loyalty punch cards like others do).

Admittedly the article is written from a North American context, but it's interesting and well worth a read if you have a couple of minutes:

Why Starbucks actually helps mom and pop coffeehouses


UPDATE: Starbucks is now open in Dalkey. You can read about my quick visit here.

Another New Arrival

I just discovered today that a new Starbucks is arriving not too far from me, in Ranelagh. I am unnecessarily exited!

Since I last posted about Starbucks I've visited another one to cross off my list of all Starbucks' in Ireland that I've visited.

How and why Starbucks have such a hold on me (and possibly you?) I'm not so sure.

Check out the view from Dana's trip to Starbucks recently, if you get a chance.

A New Arrival!

Great News! Cafe Coombe now serve Starbucks coffee and our daughter was born today!

(Wait, I think I announced that the wrong way round...)

What's that smell?

My much-overdue-pregnant-wife decided that she wanted a little peace and quiet this morning (the calm before the storm?) so she suggested I take our other two kids out for a couple of hours. I obliged and did what any responsible father might: I raided their money boxes and suggested we go and buy some toys. The kids obliged too.

There was one condition to the purchasing of toys though. Yes, a stop at a cafe in the shopping centre. I have to say that with a set of Matchbox cars and some Ponyville my little ones where perfectly content to let me enjoy my latte. The cafe had an open front to it so I could watch the world go by, but there was something wrong. Something next to the cafe that was spoiling my moment.

Beside the cafe was one of those coin operated rides for kids. This particular one was a Bear in the Big Blue House ride. Bear is a favourite in our home. If you know the TV show you'll remember that each of the episodes runs to a similar format. After the opening song Bear appears at the door to welcome the viewer. He then sniffs around and asks, 'What's that smell?' (I get a little freaked out when he guesses correctly - 'Have you just been outside?', 'Did you just have a bath?', 'Did you just have some donuts?')

Every few minutes the ride next to the cafe made a sniffing noise and Bear asks, 'What's that smell?' However, it wasn't the ride that was ruining my coffee. I couldn't help thinking to myself, 'I'll tell you what that smell is, Bear!' Because on the other side of the cafe was a butcher's shop and all I could smell was raw meat. Gross.

Wright On

My wife is now one week overdue on the delivery of our third child which has left us in a rather peculiar time frame. The last few evenings have felt a bit like a reprieve from the inevitable shock of no sleep and precious little time to myself for the next few months. (The difference between waiting for this child and the first time around is initially I was anxious about the unknowns of parenthood. Now I am anxious about the knows!)

Anyway, it has given me a couple of opportunities to go out for coffee one last time - I may yet get one more last time. So I have been taking along a book which I started about a year ago, but didn't finish. I started from the beginning again.

I've been reading Simply Christian by Tom Wright and have now finished it. I found it a really good read. It's a clear, concise and easily accessible overview of what it means to be a Christian and has been compared by some as a contemporary version of C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity - although Wright correctly suggests that the questions that people are asking today plus the context of Westernized Christianity is quite different than Lewis's time.

The book is divided into three main sections: First is the presentation that many people become aware of something in this life which is beyond themselves, although they would have a hard job particularly explaining what this means. It's an awareness of something just around the corner not quite in sight or reach. Tom Wright calls these echoes of a voice, and it is an echo which can be heard in the longing of people for justice; a sense of spirituality; the need for relationships; and the appreciation of beauty. Wright goes on to suggest that these echoes, these whispers come straight from the heart of God.

The second part of the book explores how these themes are expressed by God - ultimately in the person of Jesus. But in order to understand who Jesus was and why he did the things that he did (the stories he told, the miracles he performed, his challenges to authority, and his death and resurrection) we are first taken on a journey to discover the people group from which Jesus emerged. And in order to understand these people, Wright begins section two grappling with what we mean when we say 'God'. Here Wright presents three broad options of how people view God. Option one explores the view of understanding God to be present in all things - people, trees, clouds, poison ivy. Option two is to view him as a distant deity who very rarely, if ever, has any connection with his creation. The third view is what Tom Wright holds as a classic Jewish and New Testament view of God's space (heaven) and our space (earth) overlapping. Wright's conclusion is that in the person of Jesus is found the embodiment of that overlap. (For a more detailed understanding of heaven try Tom Wright's latest book Surprised by Hope. It will make you think again about little cherubs playing golden harps in the clouds as the common misconception of what heaven means. Wright says that heaven is important, but it's not the end of the world - you'll have to get the book to find out why!)

Part three of the book focuses on what the response of a person should be who recognizes the purposes of God being fulfilled in Jesus and wants to align themselves continuing that fulfilment. And so Wright talks about reflecting the image of God through worship, prayer, the Bible, getting involved in a local church, and participating in the renewal of creation. (If my reprieve continues I'll write a short reflection on the chapter about prayer.)

I would highly recommend this book to anyone who may be at the beginning stages of exploring the Christian faith or for those, like me, who have been following Jesus for a while now but feel like there is much more to know.

Coffee is Good for You

I picked up a bag of coffee the other day purely because of the description on the packet. It's from a company called Union Hand-Roasted, their Fairtrade blend.

This is how it describes itself:

"The easy-going coffee with a big grapefruit kick for breakfast time, and soft chocolate and orange hints for a harmonious afternoon."

Now, I might be open to suggestion, but I think I did detect a slight citrus nature to the flavour. I can't help wondering now if a couple of cups of this coffee could count as a serving of fruit!

Rathmines Festival

As I walked past my local coffeehouse there was a tap on the window and M invited me inside. The offer of a free cup of coffee and catching up was too much to pass by.

I got to know M a little last year when he headed up the committee I was on for the Rathmines Festival. M has passed on that responsibility this year, but was helping to run the 'Festival Office' located in the coffeehouse. I couldn't be on the committee this year because of a busy study schedule and the impending arrival of baby number 3 - the due date coincides with the festival. It's a pity really. I think I could have handled running the festival office while sipping lattes and watching the world go by.

Anyway, the Rathmines Festival is this weekend. Some good stuff going on which I hope to get along to, unless number 3...

They always come in threes

As I walked down to the coffeehouse this evening I passed a guy walking the other way wearing a T-shirt that had printed on it, 'This is my shirt from Philadelphia.' I don't think it would have stuck in my mind if it wasn't for the fact that the next person to walk past was wearing a sweatshirt that said, 'New York City'.



How funny, I thought, to have an American connection like that. What would be the possibility of...?



Sure enough, a minute later as I entered the coffeehouse, a girl was leaving wearing a top that had printed in large letters, 'Delaware' (of all places!)



So, if you happen to be from Philly, New York or Delaware I, in some way, thought about you tonight!

Stealing Kisses

While I sipped my latte this evening I happened to pause and look up over my cup. In the quarter of a second in which it took for my eyes to observe the scene around me I noticed a couple, leaning in close to each other, her arms hooked around his neck. She was moving in to kiss him when, perhaps because of my slight movement, she happened to glance at me as she made contact with him.



Immediately I felt as though I had stepped in to a moment, moved in to an intimate space in which I was neither invited, nor wanted to be. It felt quite odd and I was glad when they both left a few minutes later.



Perhaps this is why kisses are always better with your eyes closed.

That's a new one to me

I've previously mentioned about how some girls around Dublin go out and about in their pyjamas at all hours of the day. (Ali let me know it wasn't confined to Dublin). Well tonight, on my way home from the coffeehouse I stoped in to McDonald's to get a chocolate shake for my wife and the girl in front of me was placing her order in her PJs. What surprised me though was that the guy she was with also seemed to be in a pyjama like state - complete with slippers!

Nice One Wallace

When you get a chance, pop over to Wallace's blog. He dug through his files to find a couple of great coffee photos.

While you're there check out some of the other images he has recorded from around Ireland. Some really nice photos.

Overheard in Starbucks II

To prepare me for the weekly grocery shop this evening I stopped into a cafe for a few minutes with a magazine and a latte. At the table next to me was a father and daughter spending some valuable time together. He was drinking a particularly frothy cappuccino and she was using a stirring stick to steal some foam for herself.

I couldn't help hearing the dad asking the girl about the behaviour of some classmates.

"Does 'so-and-so' still push you?"

"What about 'such-and-such'"?

The daughter shook her head and continued with de-foaming dad's drink.

Naturally my mind went to my three and-a-half year old daughter who was tucked up in bed and chatting to herself (or the teddies) as I left the house. One day, I thought, I'll have to have conversations like this with her.

"Is there anyone who is pushing you now?", continued the father.

I looked across the table and the beautiful young thing glanced my way with a smile that would make the hardest of hearts feel warmth.

I guessed she was younger than my girl. It made me feel sad.

So, why did Jesus die? (Cont.)

In order to help me process some thoughts going through my head I've decided to blog about it. This post is a continuation of yesterday's post. Take from it what you will.

I've already hinted at my unease of the predominance of a particular explanation (atonement theory) of why Jesus died - namely to take the punishment that should have been ours. So, for some time now I have been searching for what other views have been proposed. The one I read about last evening is in relation to Jesus describing himself as a 'ransom for many.'

Some time ago someone stopped me in the street and wanted to talk to me about matters of faith. When I asked him why did Jesus die, his response was to present Jesus as a ransom for many. (He would have shown me in the Bible, but he only had a Chinese translation (??). Well, what d'ya know? I had an English one in my pocket!) So I asked the obvious question. If Jesus is a ransom, who is the ransom paid to? I didn't get a clear answer. Perhaps it was because it was raining and he didn't have an umbrella. (Well, what d'ya know? I had one of them too!)

Anyway, stop and think for a moment. Who or what is the ransom for? It can't be about paying a debt - which is what I probably used to think. If someone is asking for a ransom, it's not usually because you are already indebted to them. So is it something spiritual? Is it being paid to the devil? I can understand how you could think that, but surely that can't be right either. If it were the case then it would place Satan, at the least, at a level order with God, or further still in a higher position of power. That's just nonsense!

So, what is Jesus being a ransom all about? The book I have been reading presents the answer in the context of what Jesus said and where he said it.

First century Palestine was under Roman occupation. It was part of the Roman Empire. And the way the society of the Empire worked was through a series of obligations starting at the lowest level (the slaves) and working it's way up to the top (the Ceasar). At every level the person was obliged to serve the authority above them: slaves to their masters, sons to their fathers, the elite to Ceasar. The further up the chain you could scramble, the more power, prestige and rule you acclaimed.

Now take a look at what is going on around Jesus just before he speaks of being a ransom. A couple of disciples are asking if they can sit in positions of power when Jesus becomes "King". The other disciples are rightly annoyed at this request (because they never would have dreamed of asking such a question?, or because they didn't ask it first??). Then Jesus goes on to outline the system I've just mentioned, but suggests that those who follow him act in a different way. In fact, 'even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom.' (Mark 10:45)

You probably already know that the term ransom comes from the ancient slave trade. If someone paid a ransom the slave was freed and now belonged to the one who paid. Now though, not as a slave, but as a member of the family. Viewing the ransom of Jesus as our emancipation, his ultimate example of humility provided the framework for a means of release from attitudes that can corrupt and unhealthy desires to "make it to the top" plus entrance into the family of God. I wonder, then, if the ransom is being paid to us - setting us free from ourselves?

I'm afraid,though, that following Jesus just got a whole lot harder. My old view of the cross meant that Jesus' death caused some spiritual transaction to have taken place (there is still room for exploring areas of this theory, for sure). This new view actually calls me to do something. To follow an example. To 'take up my cross'. To serve God and his world in humility as a sign that there is an alternative way to live that is not based around power, greed and status.

I'll continue my journey and may feel the need to express more on these pages...

So, why did Jesus die?

Yeah, I know many of us just celebrated that Jesus lives, but I took a book along to the coffeehouse this evening...

I should say at this point, I'm doing a bit of theological reflection. If you want to read along, you're welcome. Maybe it will be helpful for you too. If theology (the study of God/knowing God) is not your thing, I understand. I hope to see you at a future post.

Usually on Monday evenings I head off to the supermarket to do the weekly shop, but as today was a Bank Holiday (public holiday) I didn't - mainly for two reasons: 1) We ordered pizza tonight. 2) Quite frankly I didn't want to go grocery shopping. Anyway, post-pizza I was free to head out to Moda for coffee and reading. The book I began is one I bought ages ago, but hadn't got around to it yet. My plan was to read it during Holy Week. Better late than never, eh? The book is Recovering the Scandal of the Cross by Joel Green and Mark Baker.

I've been on a spiritual/theological journey over the last few years which has taken in a number of key areas of the Christian faith. I think this is a good thing. I was talking with my dad last week and I asked him if his thoughts about God have changed over his years of ministry. He told me that anyone who, at 60, still thinks the same way as they did when they were 20 have either put their brains to bed at an early age, or have taken a long journey that has brought them full circle. I must remember that and tell my son many years form now.

One of the issues for me is the question of why did Jesus have to die. Perhaps this is a question you have asked/are asking too. In fact, just to bring my dad back into the picture again, I can remember genuinely asking my father this question when I was a teenager. Something else I should say at this point is that I don't (yet?) have a full and final answer. As an aside, however, I smiled at the very matter-of-fact response that one teenager gave when asked this question on the streets of Dublin. I was emailed a Youtube video of a group of enthusiastic evangelists who, um, confronted, yes that's the word, a group of teens armed with a microphone, a video camera and some tough questions. When asked, why did Jesus die?, the boy quickly retorted: because he lost so much blood. I wanted the evangelists (ie. one who brings good news) to respond with the correction that Jesus most likely suffocated. That was the humiliating way crucifixion was meant to work - usually over a period of days. Instead they took the theological route that made me twinge.

Over the last couple of years I have grown increasingly uncomfortable with the view of Christ's death, that I probably would have predominately held, which goes something like this: You and I are so damned awful that we deserve one hell of a beating. (Please forgive my use of some literal terminology in that last sentence.) The theory then goes on to say that God sent his son to earth in order to take that punishment that billions of people deserve. (How does that work anyway?) I won't expound on what I find so troubling about that, suffice to say I find it troubling. Now don't get me wrong, I firmly believe that we, as a people, have "fallen" below the fullness of life that God originally intended for us. My proof for that is me. There is not one who can make it through life without eventually needing redemption of some sort - whether that is acknowledged or not is another matter.

So in my reading I was presented with another view that brought fresh insight - the idea of Jesus being a ransom for many. I had always thought that it was in some way linked with the above. No, I shouldn't say thought. I presumed. Well it isn't. But will you forgive me for a second time if I wait until tomorrow to share what I discovered? The time stamp at the end of the post only says what time I started writing and not what time it actually is now! Plus this is getting a bit long and I have only just made an introduction. My main point won't be this long!

(The reflection continues here.....)

Easter - A Big Joke

We celebrated Easter today by inviting a few friends around to our house for brunch - croissants, bacon rolls, fresh fruit salad, freshly baked muffins and cinnamon raisin bread (I love my wife!!) After a little egg hunt for the children we sat around the table with tea and coffee and I led a short reflection on the message of Easter. I'm sorry you couldn't make it today (you're welcome next Sunday), so here's the gist of what I said, for what it's worth:


Over the years and across different traditions, the meaning of Easter has been expressed in a variety of ways. One that particularly stands out for me was when C.S. Lewis, author of the Chronicles of Narnia, asked some children to write a poem about Easter. One little girl responded by writing a poem entitled, ‘Chocolate Eggs and Jesus Risen’. Now, some may spend the day consuming the chocolate, while others just focus on the resurrection. I certainly think there is room for both – after all Easter is meant to be a celebration and it’s proven that there is nothing like chocolate for making you feel good!

That idea of celebration is captured in different Christian traditions. I particularly like the tradition of the Eastern Orthodox Church who have been known to begin their worship on Easter Sunday by telling jokes. Perhaps this echoes the words of St Paul who wrote, ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death is your sting?’ (1 Cor.15:55). I think I can picture a wry smile on Paul’s face as he writes these words. Someone else once said that the resurrection was God’s biggest joke. You either get it or you don’t.

Now, it doesn’t take two thousand years of science to tell us that dead people don’t come back from the grave and yet there is something about the events of Easter that cause millions of people to believe otherwise – and also present the possibility of a future hope. Perhaps that’s a discussion for another day...

But whatever our perception or understanding of what today may be, the theme of hope, new beginnings, and life are worthy aspects to celebrate.


Happy Easter. God bless you!

Prayer of St Patrick

Happy St Patrick's Day to you!

I won't be heading in to the city for the parade today. Instead I think I will celebrate a bit of Irishness this evening at a coffeehouse with a book of Irish myths and legends.

For a few local thoughts about Paddy's Day check out Dublin Mom.

In the meantime, here's the prayer from the man himself. This version was transcribed by Mrs C.F. Alexander and was first used on 17th March 1889. Mrs Alexander is also known for such hymns as 'Once in Royal David's City', 'There is a Green Hill Faraway', and perhaps most notably for 'All Things Bright and Beautiful.'

St Patrick's Breastplate
(The Lorica)

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on cross for my salvation;
His bursting form the spiced tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'Well done' in judgement hour;
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles word,
The patriarchs' prayers, the prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, his might to stay,
His ear to harken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hands to guide, his shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptations force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all the love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One, and One in Three.
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord!

Another One!

Ok, I know I said I was going to stop playing this silly game, but for some reason I can't stop myself. (That sounds terribly worrying!)

I took the kids on a short train ride this weekend into Blackrock. On of the first things I noticed when coming out of the station was a new Starbucks. I couldn't resist it. I had to check it out. (Like it was going to be any different than any other Starbucks?)

The store is located in a former Post Office which makes it the biggest Starbucks I've been into in Ireland - a bit more space than usual. As far as views from a coffeehouse go, there is a great view from the deck out the back which looks out across Dublin Bay. (Before that sounds too ideal check out this photo of Ireland's biggest eye sore right on the Bay). Unfortunately the queue was pretty long and very slow, but I'd committed myself - I have this silly game, don't I?

The site must have cost them a fortune and I'm sure it will take years to turn a profit even at Starbucks prices. But, and I've said this before, the alleged tactics of Starbucks is to open a store in a coffee dense area with the goal of eventually drowning out the competition. Such is the cut throat world of commerce and a reason that I struggle with going to Starbucks in the first place. Like I said, I can't help myself. (Oh man, I really do have a problem.)

On the way back to the station I passed a local independent cafe. It had a sign on the wall showing it was for sale. Must be a coincidence...right?

Holy Muffins

Well now, here's an interesting change to the cup of tea and stale biscuit served after a church service.

Holy Muffins!

(I wonder what difference it could make if I prayed before every cup of coffee?)

Learning from the master

Deep, informative conversations with three year olds are quite rare. Repetitive questions are not, but sometimes they lead to profound thoughts and ideas.

A favourite question of our three year old is, 'What's today is?' Followed up by, 'What are we doing today?'

This morning the questioning began as we lay in bed:

What's today is?

Saturday.

What are we doing today?

I don't know yet.

Can we go to a cafe?


Ah, my little padawan. Your learning is serving you well.

Voices in my head

Today was a beautiful, blue-sky Spring morning. Worthy of a visit to our favourite playground and park. We packed up a picnic, scooter and tricycle and headed off. On the way I dropped in to Starbucks to pick up a coffee to take to the park. I always feel a little jealous when I see someone at the park with a cup of coffee in their hand, so I thought it only fair to reciprocate.

We arrived at a crowded Herbert Park and played for a good while in their great playground. Then we took off for a scoot followed by a little picnic and even had time to feed the ducks. It was ideal.

Almost.

I say almost, because as I wondered around the swings and slides, sipping my latte and enjoying the sounds of fun, I was quite shocked to see a considerable amount of rubish strewn across the ground - and this in one of Dublin's poshest areas! A voice in my head said, 'How can people leave a mess like this?' Then I heard it say, 'Do the decent thing and clean it up yourself.'

So I began with the larger pieces of paper, whch looked like some child's homework, then moved on to the sweet wrappers and crips packets. I imagined I could hear voices saying, 'Wow. Look at this man. He must be a Christian, for behold his attitude of graciousness. See how he inspires us to acts of humble service for the betterment of the community!'

As I progressed to picking up the remaining trash I noticed that no one had actually joined me in my mission. On my last stretch I bent over to pick up some tissues only to discover that this wasn't what I was aiming for. But it was too late. I had made the commitment in my movement to pick it up. I couldn't let Jesus down now. What kind of witness would I be? I had to follow through.

Ladies and gentlemen, this was not a tissue from some snotty-nosed toddler. I could have dealt with that much better. No, this was a used breast pad from some lactating mother.

It was then that I thought I heard the voices in my head saying, 'And that is why we were quite happy to leave the rubish where it was.'

My First Tag

Every now and then when I read people's blogs I come across the concept of tagging. It's a good idea for getting a glimpse into someone's life and also for introducing friends to new blogs.

Usually when I see people being tagged I get jealous because no one ever tags me. But tonight Ali has put me out of my missery. (Thank you!)

Here are the requests of the tag:

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five other people.


For some reason I have a copy of the London A-Z Map on my desk. As this doesn't have a particular sentence structure I will use another book for this tag. However, here's a bit of a two-for-one deal with some info about page 123 of the London A-Z:

A good portion of page 123 is taken up with Mitcham Common with its various playing fields and golf course, along with a large landfill and Croydon Cemetery (not the same thing!). Then I noticed the south London suburb of Norbury which rang a bell with me because there on square K2 was Beatrice Aveune. My parents lived there for a couple of months (while work was being done on another house I think) when they moved to London in the early 90's after leaving me behind in Felixstowe to fend for myself. Now get this - the street that we lived on in Felixstowe was called.......Beatrice Avenue! What are the chances of that!?

Okay, I've divulged enough pointless personal history. Time for a proper book.

As I came up to the office this evening I had in my hand a book called Sowing Dragons by Geoff Ryan (sorry, I couldn't find a link anywhere - but the book does exist!) Perhaps I can give a little background to this choice. Last week I attended a conference that I have briefly blogged about below (and will try a few more reflections in the future). One of the guest speakers was Geoff Ryan, a Salvation Army officer (minister) in an urban setting of Canada. Towards the end of the conference a small group of us went out for a curry and I got chatting to Geoff. I told him that I had read this book (I think this was his first - a collection of essays) and, for some reason, shared with him that this was the only book I have thrown across the room as I was reading it. He asked me why that was, but to my shame I couldn't remember. I guess the action was more memorable than the content. Anyway, I said I'd read it again and let him know what provoked such a response.

This evening I did a preliminary flick through. but to no avail. I had already decided that I would take this book out for coffee sometime soon and see what shows up. I'll let you know. Anyway, basically this book is about calling Salvationists (and others) back to a radical lifestyle of mission and discipleship that The Salvation Army was known for in its early days as it connected with society in relevant ways....or did it? The requested sentences actually give quite a good taster, coming after the quote or a russian proverb, "You can't predict the past."

"In The Salvation Army,we, too, have an honoured tradition of historical revisionism and I contend that, in reality, things were nothing like what we imagined they were in the beginning. We were no more "relevant" as a form of Christian Church then than we are today. We wedded dance hall revelry to scriptural holiness, brought theatre into the pews, soiled the perfumed doilies of Victorian spinsters with the mud of the streets and the stench of gin palaces and ordained wild-eyed fanatics as ministers of the Gospel."

Whoa. All that preamble for just three sentences.

Here is who I have tagged:

Nick because he is my brother-in-law and we have a secret pact of trying to direct online traffic each others way. (opps, secret's out).

Howard because he deals daily with those who have suffered the effects of the "gin palaces".

Steve because I wanted to bring a little bit of Salvationist thought to his Anglican musings.

Andrew because he is an old friend who firmly believes in the need to return to the passion of early day Salvationists.

Dave because he said he was lacking some brain stimulation.

PS. If you do respond to the tag please leave a comment below with a link to your post.

PPS. If I didn't tag you and you feel left out let me know and I'll break the 5 person rule.

Conference Coffee

Just back from the conference in London I wrote about the other day: all about 'Incarnational' mission. It was good stuff. It challenged my thinking, gave me some answers and, as I suspected, left some questions unresolved. But that's ok becauase it means that the conference carries on in my head!

A few things stood out for me.

First, things haven't changed regarding the coffee machines since I was there last. Fortunately there was a coffee stand in the train station across the road and a Starbucks just down the hill. It soon became obvious that I wasn't the only one desperate for a decent cup of coffee. (Caffine - the drug of choice for Christians, right?)

One of the best things was that my sister was presenting a paper. It was excellent. It was based around the ministry that her and her husband have created in the multi-cultural/multi-faith society in the eastend of London. You can find out more about them here.

I was also good to catch up with people I know and meet new friends from around the world trying to work out what it means to be a church in the city today. If you get a chance, check out one Salvation Army area of ministry in one of the toughest neighbourhoods in Toronto.

It was a great couple of days talking, laughing, staying up late, agreeing, disagreeing, worshipping and learning.

(Big thanks to my wife who stayed at home with the kids. J, you're great!)

Waiting...

My internet connection has been really slow tonight. (Broadband with speeds up to 4mbps - yeah right!)

I noticed at the bottom of my web browser that it advises me what is currently happening with my requests to flit form one page to another. Because it's been slow tonight it has read, 'Waiting for..' and then lists the web address I had clicked on.

I smiled when I clicked on my own blog. It said: Waiting for...regularlatte
- and I felt myself standing in a line with others waiting for the barista to do what she does best.

Hmm, the internet. A possible metaphor for my life.

Crossing Cultures

Isn't it funny how relatively trivial thoughts can lead you into deeper areas of thinking...or is it just me?

For instance...

I ran into my local supermarket to get a couple of things. As I was checking-out there was a small group of 20-somethings in front of me speaking to the cashier in an other language. I'm pretty sure it was Polish. Now this isn't an uncommon experience. Encountering the "new Irish" in this way is a daily occurrence. Nothing particularly unusual. But I came away asking this question:

How do people of the same culture wind up finding each other when they live in another country? Am I just not very good at that or are other cultures more inclined to mono-cultural attraction?

As an Englishman living in Ireland for almost five years there aren't very many other Brits that I know really well despite the fact that the British are still the highest population of immigrants in Ireland. (Maybe it has something to do with not going to very many pubs?!)

Then I started going deeper in my thinking. If my purpose in life is to embody something of the person of Jesus and present him as the benefit for not only the life-to-come, but the life-right-now, then how do I do that with people from vastly different backgrounds to my own? How do I "incarnate the gospel"? Is it even possible to incarnate the gospel in an urban, multicultural, pluralistic society?

Let me put it this way: How would I, as a middle-class, 21st century Englishman living in Ireland, talk to a newly immigrated Nigerian woman in a relevant and understandable way about a Jewish man who lived in first century Palestine? I only ask because, living in the city, there is every chance that she will be behind me at the supermarket checkout.

I'm attending a conference next week that might help shed some light on this subject. However, I think it may just bring up more questions!

So where would you start? Perhaps you start with common ground. Perhaps you start with coffee.