Good to the last drop: The Mission needs our help

 Editor's note: The Elgin Street Mission does a wonderful job helping feed and warm many of the people in Greater Sudbury who need a hand up from time to time. In his own unique way, Gerry Lougheed Jr. put together this column to draw attention to the issue. Enjoy and cheers.

The Elgin Street Mission needs coffee. It’s the Mission’s currency of conversation, comfort and caring.

For the past six years, I have served a monthly meal at the Mission. These dinner engagements have enlightened me that coffee doesn’t just bring warmth to the body, but brings human warmth to some who need to be heard and helped. In my quest for a Just Society, I have discovered the content of that Holy Grail is coffee.

Coffee originated in Ethiopia. Maybe that’s why their marathon runners can out last the Energizer Bunny. My caffeine craving does not fuel a desire to ever jog (note to readers – I don’t jog because I want to be sick before I die), but it does provide the high octane for my dash between breakfast and bedtime.

Excessive caffeine has helped me cram for exams at school and multitask at work. I acknowledge the wit and wisdom regarding coffee junkies who can help their dog chase its tail, jumpstart their car without cables, or walk ten miles on their treadmill before realizing it’s not plugged in.

Coffee composition contains two types of oils. The good oils are good for your body and your health. The bad oils are what give you ulcers and stomach problems. To avoid the bad oils, simply use paper filters.

Melitta Bentz, a homemaker in Germany, invented the first coffee filter in 1908. This was a huge improvement over American cowboy concept of using their dirty socks as filters. They filled their socks with coffee beans, immersed the sock in boiling water then squeezed out the coffee into cups. I’m sure that was an aromatic blend of blisters, corns and Frappuccino fungi.

Beyond the contents of the cup, it’s the creation of the cup, which is the mocha for my mojo in managing what matters.

It’s by brewing and sharing a good cup of coffee that we can settle problems that are brewing in our neighbourhood of the Tim Hortons empire. I recall the percolating parable about the young woman who went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her.

She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them boil. She turned off the burners and placed the carrots, eggs and coffee each in a bowl.

Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what do you see?”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

She asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they got soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma.

The daughter then asked, “What’s the point, mother?”

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity — boiling water — but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.

“Which are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, and egg, or a coffee bean?”

I like to think I’m the coffee bean. If you are like the bean when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. The coffee brewed at the Elgin Street Mission changes the situation by sharing Jesus Java. We better understand Christ’s commands to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty and visiting the distressed.

It is by pouring coffee at the Mission, I better percolate as a person.

The Elgin Street Mission coffee consumers help me realize my daily double-double isn’t just cream and sugar, but caring and sharing. The coffee klatch at the Mission has included the tattooed, the tormented, the timid, the terrible and the terrific.

I really do believe the coffee I serve is from the Holy Grail. I concur with Pope Clement VIII who, in 1615, was asked by the clergy to ban the evil brew. The only problem was that the Pope drank coffee religiously.

He, in his infallible wisdom, fooled Satan and baptized the drink claiming it to be a Christian beverage. Such an expresso exorcism I experienced in my life by a man I’ll call Clem.

He had blond bushy hair. His eyes seem to see the unseen. He always wore a bright orange Philadelphia Flyers hockey jacket. He managed his mental illness with medications that when missed would make his brain bushy.

We met as I attended a downtown church. One day as I left this sacred space, Clem was waiting by the exit.

He said “Good evening Mr. Lougheed, it’s a great night. My that’s a sharp looking tie.”

I thanked him for appreciating my accessory. This continued for several weeks. One day without his encouragement I asked him if he would like a cup of coffee? He said yes. I explained I had to return to work, but I gave him a toonie for a coffee. Our social sacrament became a cravat comment and a coin covenant.

I sat in the front window of a Durham Street café in the company of a regional bank manager. I was soliciting a significant donation for our local Cancer Centre. Clem walked by, waved and walked on.

I excused myself. I spotted the orange jacket at the corner. I caught up to him. We did the tie and toonie. I returned to my banking buddy. He asked what happened. I explained. He smiled and shrugged and asked why do you think that coffee is so important for Clem?

I replied, “Not for Clem, but for me. You see my financial friend someday we are all going to die. When I die and go up to heaven, I will stand before the almighty throne for my eternal judgement.

“Just my luck Jesus is on break, perhaps a coffee break. I stand waiting, I wait and I wait. Suddenly the Pearly Gates open up, Christ comes around the throne. I am relieved. He’s wearing that orange Philadelphia Flyers jacket with that bushy blond hair and says, 'Good to see you Gerry, that’s a sharp-looking tie you’re wearing.”

So drop off some coffee at the Elgin Street Mission, 344 Elgin St., knowing it contains the caffeine of caring.

It creates the ability to influence and inspire. It is consumed by those we love and live with. It makes our lives good to the last drop.