Shandon Baptist: Great Church, Horrible Coffee

A few years ago when I started attending Shandon Baptist, I learned, trial by fire, that the coffee the church makes is pretty much on par with heated dirty dish water. Anytime I think I might want coffee at church, I bring my own. Many in my Sunday School class feel the same way; the number of Starbucks cups in hand on Sunday mornings can attest to that. People normally don’t plan to drink the Shandon coffee. It’s one of those things where if you drink it, you either a) have never tried it before or b) didn’t plan on drinking coffee at church, but upon your arrival realized you were really sleepy and needed some caffeine to stay awake during church activities. Shandon brew is to coffee as Tootsie Rolls are to chocolate—you will tear your house completely apart to find some other chocolate, but after, and only after every hiding place, nook and cranny has been searched will you bite the bullet and go for the Tootsie Roll … that has probably been there since Halloween. I refer to Tootsie Rolls as “desperation chocolate.” Shandon brew is “desperation coffee.”

Anyway, the week before Easter, my church planned a great set of corporate daily devotionals.  The catch was, they were at 7:00 in the morning. For me, this meant that I had to leave my house at 6:30, which meant I had to be awake at 6:00 at the latest in order to make it out the door in time, which meant I was experiencing an hour I haven’t been acquainted with for some time. I was sure to have my coffee with me. When I arrived, I found Elizabeth and Amy. Elizabeth was joyful, to say the least. Amy, on the other hand, seemed to be handling the morning as well as I was.

Elizabeth noticed that Amy had gotten one of those styrofoam cups full of brown liquid.

“Oh, Amy, you’re not going to actually drink the Shandon coffee are you?”
Amy, in her sleepy stupor, looked at Elizabeth quizzically.
“April, you’re not drinking the Shandon …”
I cut Elizabeth off before she could finish the question, “Oh no, man, definitely not; I know better. Yeah, Amy, you might want to think twice before you drink that mess.”
“But I got a lot of creamers …”
“OK, we warned you.”

Needless to say, the next morning, Amy brought her own coffee from home.

Aside from its coffee, I love my church. It does a great job doing the things that a church should do: reaching out to the community, fellowshipping, accountability and teaching solid Biblical principles. A barista it is not, though. So, Shandon, don’t quit your day job.

*Side note: Amy didn’t actually spew coffee in the church building. I just wanted to see what it would look like if she did.  She was a lady and a trooper and toughed it up and swallowed that brew. I think had we been outside though, she totally would have spewed it.