The task of mission in our time is to say something true about the nature of God and what it is to be a disciple of Jesus. That’s what I think, anyway, at the moment.
Gospel cocktails allow people to engage with these subjects on various different levels.
For those who took up the offer of a free drink there were multiple levels of access. On the most basic level, it was a drink. Hurrah! The queues for the refreshment tent were sometimes long… God represented as thirst-quencher. On the next level, it was a free drink. Everyone likes a freebie. Without a catch. And for the teenagers, perhaps, or the harrassed parents trying to draw a line in the sand of costly treats, the ‘free’ tag brought relief and eager custom. God represented as the gift-giver, whose grace we endlessly encounter.
When people got this far, they were invited to peruse the menu. At which point, they generally read all the names of the cocktails: Overflowing joy, Life in all its fulness, Sure and certain hope, the Gift of faith (we didn’t tell people what was in this one – they had to take it on trust), Peace beyond understanding, Forgiveness. And a choice: to think about the drinks in terms of their contents, or in terms of the spiritual gift they promised. To ask for a drink, and subconsciously (or not) formulate a prayer. God represented as the source of inner riches.
Some, I’m sure, engaged only with the flavours. But some clocked the joke, and the underlying seriousness of it. There was lots of teasing around the concept of forgiveness; one lady had Forgiveness, went away and came back a while later for a top up. What had she done in the interim….?! I wonder if English people find it easier to talk about faith in these light-hearted terms than in more traditional ways….
In less busy periods we followed up these comments, or asked people if they thought the cocktail lived up to its title. One man, after being assured there was no catch to the offer of a free drink, challenged me directly with the confession: ‘I’m a lapsed Catholic.’ ‘You are most welcome,’ I said, quoting Aragorn from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He and his mate had a drink, went away to tell their wives and children, brought them back. We had some tables and chairs set out in the bar and invited people to write a response to their drink on the paper tablecloths: some people unprompted wrote prayers.
Church people came too, for their cocktail. I loved that about it: it didn’t matter who you were, what your background, age, gender, faith status was, you could go away with some sort of gift… an experience that said something true about God. And in a way where the medium and the message were so closely aligned you couldn’t get a cocktail stick between them.
I’ve read both your articles, and wanted to say what an amazingly inspired way of connecting with people and helping them explore God is some way. I simply love the idea of being such a blessing in this way, a blessing laced with an edge of thought maybe.
I was particularly struck by your comment : ‘I wonder if English people find it easier to talk about faith in these light-hearted terms than in more traditional ways….’ I think you are right.
As an OPM who spends a lot of time hanging out in pubs and coffee shops this has struck me too. I’m finding that it is in the light hearted moments in conversations that something of God seems to be acknowledged.
Thanks for sharing this … you have inspired me today.
Blessings
R
Great to have your thoughts. A friend of mine occasionally refers me to your posts and we were both struck by your quote “I like the fact that God is there with absolutely no religion to ‘help him out’.” I thought of this while we were doing the cocktails (which we trialled, incidentally, a couple of weeks before at a car boot!). Thanks for posting the link – hope to return the compliment sometime…