finding common ground

I have a love affair with coffee shops. While in seminary I spent more hours in Kaldi’s (the original, not the new franchises that look just like Bread Co.) than I did in class. In many ways Kaldi’s became my second home and my natural habitat. In the midst of our chaotic summer I have missed my regular time at Kaldi’s. I miss the friends, acquaintances, and regular strangers I’ve come to know by being a part of that community.

For people who don’t frequent them it may sound strange to refer to a coffee shop as a community but that is precisely what they are. A coffee shop becomes something of a social hub for the various people who, for some reason, claim it as their shop. When the person becomes a regular customer they are actually treated as more than a customer. In this way a coffee shop becomes a place where a person feels they belong. The desire to feel like you belong is a good and normal human impulse. In our broken and fragmented world these places of belonging are often hard to find.

There are relatively few places where I feel comfortable and where I feel that I belong and, for whatever reason, coffee shops tend to be the places where I feel like a fish in water. Not all coffee shops are created equal though. There are definitely shops that don’t fit the bill when it comes to community expectations. I for one can’t stand Starbucks. On top of the fact that their coffee is bitter and over caffeinated the whole atmosphere is generally one of commercialization. I wonder if this makes me a coffee shop snob? If so, oh well.


My chosen shop whenever I’m back in Grand Rapids is Common Ground. Common Ground has good coffee (the House Blend is my favorite), good atmosphere, and a great Italian sandwich. Common Ground also fits my definition of a coffee shop community. The three times I have been here since arriving in G.R. last Thursday have been enough for me to spot some of the regular customers. Common Ground is home to teenagers, college students, white and blue-collar working adults and elderly retirees. It would be a home to me as well, if we lived here.

When I consider the fact that in exactly two weeks Brooke and I will be boarding a plane bound for New Zealand I have a lot of questions about our future and about whether we will find a home in Auckland. I wonder if we will discover a sense of fitted-ness and belonging in the Church, culture, and society. It may seem petty or trivial, but for me a large part of this questioning includes wondering whether I will find a coffee shop to claim as my own.