The green-and-white circular sign beckoned, a refuge in a hectic
world. It wasn’t a church sign, but the logo for Starbucks, the
church of the Frappuccino generation. A twentysomething youth
pastor named Ty arrived first and waited for his newfound mentor
and friend, Tony, a veteran leader with 20 years of youth ministry
service under his belt, mostly at the same church.
Tony had learned the hard way that traditional youth ministry
practices don’t lead to transformed students, so he’d developed a
set of “ministry mutiny” principles that had impacted his life and
ministry. This morning Ty was anticipating another dive into the
ministry mutiny deep end.
At 7:30 sharp Ty spotted Tony through the front window as he
pulled into the parking lot and came run-walking toward the
“Am I late?” Tony asked, as he joined a short line of mostly
high school kids waiting for a java jolt before chemistry
“No. You’re right on time,” Ty assured him.
“May I take your order please?” A dark-haired, pert-faced
barista gave them a Starbucks smile.
Ty didn’t need to look at the huge menu riveted to the wall.
“I’ll have a triple venti, sugar-free, vanilla nonfat latte.”
“Sounds like you’ve done this before, Ty.”
“Every single day.”
The barista’s fingers flew across the register’s computer screen
keyboard, entering all of the nuances of Ty’s latte order. Now it
was Tony’s turn. “And what would you like, sir?”
“I’ll just have a coffee.”
“What kind of coffee, sir?” the barista asked politely. “Would
you like Columbian, Sumatran, mild, decaf, or the coffee of the
“Just regular coffee is fine with me,” he answered with a
By now Ty was getting a little embarrassed at Tony’s lack of
Starbucks ordering finesse. He was an obvious novice and needed a
little schooling. “He’ll have the coffee of the day,” Ty
“Okay,” Tony echoed. “I guess I’m having a coffee of the day.”
Tony turned to Ty and asked, “Why do you think it’s so difficult
for guys like me to order coffee here?”
“I guess there are so many choices that, for the nondecisive or
the traditional ‘just coffee’ drinkers, it can be a traumatic
first-time experience,” Ty observed.
“Then why do you think so many normally nondecisive teens get
their coffee at Starbucks?”
By now Ty had been meeting with Tony for ongoing mentoring long
enough to catch the undercurrent in his question. He suspected that
this little coffee-ordering incident was not an accident, so Ty
reflected briefly before he offered his response. “I guess kids
want their coffee, like their lives, to their exact specifications.
They don’t want just plain black coffee like you ‘old’ guys. They
want their own customized version.”
“Kind of like their spirituality, right?” came Tony’s
“Ahhh. I knew you were driving to something, Tony!”
Tony handed the barista some money and got his change. Tony and
Ty grabbed their drinks and made their way around the corner of the
counter and headed for the two stuffed chairs nestled back in the
far corner of the coffee shop.
“Okay, Tony. I know there’s some big illustration that just
unfolded, beyond the fact that teens like their spirituality like
they like their lattes.”
“Nope. That was it, Ty. I call it Starbucks Spirituality — our
kids are mixing their beliefs like that barista mixes her lattes.
Actually, I’m no Starbucks novice. I study at the Starbucks at 80th
and Wadsworth every single day! There are a whole lot of choices
that our teens are facing when it comes to spirituality — the only
spiritual order that is looked down upon is a straight-up Jesus,
“Well, you made your point!” Ty answered.
Tony shifted the conversation. “Anyway, let me make an awkward
segue to today’s ‘ministry mutiny’ principle. I call this one Grow
Deep: If we don’t equip our teens to grow deep in their faith,
they’ll fall victim to this Starbucks spirituality syndrome.”
Ty agreed, “So how exactly do we help them grow deep?”