Quakers are Bad Beans

A few years back while looking for a new hobby, I decided to try my hand at coffee roasting. A couple of trial runs, first on a gas grill and then on the stove top, convinced me of two things. The taste  of freshly roasted coffee was noticeably better than what usually filled my cup; and if I were going to do this, roasting in the kitchen was not an option. For that matter, neither was any place inside the house. If the smoke from the roasting process didn’t kill us, the cost of replacing smoke alarm batteries would bankrupt us. Both seemed like a high price to pay for a decent cup of coffee, no matter how flavorful.  After some research I purchased a home roaster and made space for it in the garage, thus beginning my rapid descent into coffee snobbery! A kinder description would be “coffee aficionado” but honestly the two seem interchangeable as I now rarely drink coffee that I myself do not roast.

In 2011 during a month-long stay in Antigua, Guatemala, I took advantage of an opportunity to attend what my wife teasingly refers to as “coffee college.” It amounted to three sessions with the master roaster at a local coffee plantation just outside of town. In addition to the roasting techniques, the time included cupping sessions. Complete with real glass cups and silver spoons so as to not influence the characteristics of the coffee, tasters sample one spoonful of freshly brewed coffee and judge it for qualities like body and aroma, before spitting it out. It’s reminiscent of wine tasting, only with coffee!

During one of the sessions with Angelo, the maestro, I noticed a poster describing the quality levels of green coffee and the resulting roasts. It identified the highest level as specialty grade coffee, and noted that it must contain zero Quakers. Premium grade coffee could contain no more than three Quakers and must be free of faults. (Good luck finding a single Quaker free of faults!) The restriction on numbers of Quakers allowed doesn’t cease until two grades further down in a category described as “below standard” coffee. The experience whisked me back to an introductory theology class where a highly devoted British Methodist professor informed the class that while Quakers had some Christian ideas, they didn’t qualify to be included in  the Church! Had some group’s theology or ecclesiology somehow infiltrated the world of coffee roasting? I have come to expect such slicing and dicing among those who believe they are heaven’s gatekeepers, but I was shocked that even purveyors of fine coffee would discriminate against Quakers with no mention of other religious viewpoints.

I asked Angelo why coffee growers did not like Quakers.“They’re bad beans,” he said. “It doesn’t take many to ruin a pot of good coffee.” I have hung around enough coffee pots at Quaker gatherings to know that Angelo was not entirely off base with his statement. Three Quakers in a small room almost guarantees at least four differing opinions, which on occasion prove to be contentious.

“Surely not all Quakers are bad,” I protested, but Angelo was unforgiving in his opinion.

“No, they really are all bad. Here, let me show you one.”  I half-expected him to hand me a mirror, but he dropped a coffee bean into my hand and continued, “They are light colored and they don’t respond well to heat.”

Again, he made a good point. In North America at least, despite our efforts to be Light-filled, Quakers are predominately light-colored and though we talk a good game about peace and unity, many of us don’t respond well to heat. Our history is littered with schisms that have created a much forked family tree. But it turns out the bad Quakers to which Angelo referred were coffee beans, not descendants of Early Friends. They are light-colored, stubbornly resistant to heat, and do ruin the taste of coffee when mixed into the roast. I have yet to discover how these bad beans came to be known as Quakers!

We began sorting out our mutual ignorance, as Angelo had never heard of a faith tradition known as Quakers. He was momentarily aghast that he might have offended me, and more than a little perplexed that I found such humor in the confusion; but then, he doesn’t know Quakers as I know them. I would not describe Quakers as “below standard” but heaven knows it does not take many to influence the flavor of the group, often for better but not always.  Plus, many Quakers I know take some delight in the idea of being “bad,” which by itself is interesting since so much of religious language and ritual emphasizes the “good.” Good behavior. Good thoughts. Good actions. Good karma. Etc.!

It could be that flirtation with being “bad Quakers” is some left-over, unresolved adolescent need to challenge authority as part one’s own self-differentiation. That is not an altogether negative stance, as we each have to determine if and how we will embrace the values and commitments of our elders as part of fashioning our own path and claiming our own place. From this perspective, some degree of “badness” should be expected, if not encouraged.

The affinity with being “bad” may well be a defense mechanism against insults hurled by one Quaker group at another so that the sting evaporates and instead of feeling hurtful, “bad” becomes a badge of honor worn with pride. I, for one, remember the day I recognized my own weariness from attempting to articulate the legitimacy of my own faith in the face of criticism that it wasn’t satisfactorily “Christian” or “Quaker” enough for the Inquisitors of the moment. Turns out that was a moment of liberation. It was not without cost, but worth every penny.

I prefer to think the attraction some Quakers have with“bad” arises from the wish to make a stand in contrast to the status quo, and in doing so connect with the revolutionary spirit present within the first Quakers as they identified and resisted failing spiritual and religious practices that neither served God nor improved community. In such cases, what is labeled as “bad” Quakerism may lead us to “better” if it awakes a group from its slumber so that it revisits its reasons for being a certain way. It represents a desire to be unfettered by unnecessary minutiae that can preoccupy a lifetime with a circular busyness that leads nowhere in particular. It acknowledges that sometimes it is necessary to break with tradition or fracture the community in order call attention to the new work that needs to be done. It can lead one precariously close to the work of a prophet, which is seldom easy but often beneficial. 

No doubt there is ample room for improvement for us all, but there is also plenty of good work to be done. Here’s to hoping bad Quakers won’t necessarily spoil the whole roast!