Sunday, February 7, 2010

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The Badass Coffee Shop Part II

I made an appointment to meet with my bishop on Sunday. I did not feel cool or rebellious, I felt terrible.  Drinking coffee was a sin, and I knew better. The bishop wore an oak colored suit with a dark yellow tie. He was clean-shaven and his office smelled like glass cleaner. I sat across from him in a wood chair with an orange cushion. We started our meeting with a prayer. 

            I told him about the late night trip to Salt Lake, about the coffee, and about the sin. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It was wrong.”

            The bishop reached into his desk and pulled out a five-by-eight photo of the Salt Lake Temple. It was night in the photo and the large arch windows of the temple were illuminated. The granite walls reflected in the darkness. He asked me if I knew what this was and I told him, “Yes.”

“Think of this as your body,” he said. “Would you throw filth in a building this nice? This is where God lives. Would you paint the walls with tar or tear at the carpet of the Lord’s home?”

I told him, “No.”

 “Then why are you doing this with your own temple? Will the sprit of the Lord reside in your body if it is un-clean?”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. Coffee is bad. It was dumb… super dumb. I know better.”

The bishop told me that my body was a temple. At one time, it’s walls were white like the walls in the photo but I had stained them black with sinful hot liquid. I had slashed at the carpet and painted the walls with tar. I was rotting from the inside out. Perhaps he didn’t tell me all those things, but that is how I felt. My body was now in a state of decay. It was a dirty temple.

I needed to clean the walls with the bleach of Christ’s atonement. He told me to go home and pray for forgiveness and that I was not allowed to partake of Sunday sacrament for one month.

I prayed fervently and apologized to God about the coffee. After one month, the bishop allowed me to once again partake of the sacrament. He told me to go forth and sin no more. It should have felt like I had kicked a major addiction, like the monkey was off my back. Yes, I had only drank half a cup of coffee, but what if those few ounces of joe had turned me into a coffee junkie? I had been proactive. But I still felt guilty and I began to wonder if I had done it wrong. Perhaps I was still unclean. 


Elise said...

Wow! A month of no sacrament over a cup of coffee? *shudder* That is a serious bishop. Would it have been a month for tea, too? What about Red Bull. Dr. Pepper? All have that bad stuff in them.... I am going to hell. Glad to know you won't be joining me!!!

Clint said...

I would like to say this excerpt is part of a larger essay, hence the part II in the title, from when I was fifteen. I have not drank coffee in some time. This is a link to the first half for those of you who have not read it.

Kara Garbe said...

I love this! Fantastic! I want to see the full essay...the book...