From Sampler to Sower

Recently, Richard Reising of BeyondRelevance.com posted a new video which asked the question “What would happen if Starbucks marketed itself like Starbucks?”

The point of the video, in Richard’s words:

Have you ever tried really hard to make a point and when people say they get it, you are just not sure they do? Sometimes it takes us seeing our world through new eyes–something that it is hard to do as believers. Sometimes a little bit of juxtaposition does the trick.

So granted, he’s not trying to suggest that the Church should be more like Starbucks, but to point out the awkwardness of so much of what we do.  However, that got me thinking.  What could the church learn from Starbucks about creating an attractive and friendly atmosphere?

So I went on a research trip to Starbucks.  No seriously, it was all about the research.

Where I wanted to go.

My Starbucks Experience

If I was going to get a “first time visitor” view of Starbucks I couldn’t go to my regular franchise.  The barista’s might recognize me, though granted I doubt I frequent Starbucks frequently enough to merit that. (Bob Evans, yes. Starbucks, not so much.)  More likely, I’d run into our children’s pastor, Jill, and she’d ruin the whole first time vibe for me.  So I hit the road.  I needed to stop by an electronics store in Fishers, so I headed to the Starbucks that I always thought looked cool but never visited.  It’s beautiful, dare I say even cathedralesque with it’s domed sky light and distinctive architecture.  (Well, you can see for yourself.)

There was just one problem.  After driving 30 minutes to check out this mega-Starbucks I discovered it had closed.  The building was still there, only empty.  No warm welcoming lights. No soothing scents of coffee.  Just a “For Lease” sign in a dusty window.  Fortunately for me, the closest Starbucks was but a few blocks away.  (In fact, I drove right past it in order to go to the beautiful one.  What does that say?)  So, slightly disappointed but undaunted I found my way back to the plain little box outside Sam’s Club with “Starbucks” on the sign out front and made my way inside.

I was surprised that despite the fact that there were but three customers in the little building (all already served and now sipping contentedly from their hot drinks while chatting together) and three baristas (one apparently with nothing better to do than wipe down the pastry case) no one, either lay or clergy, acknowledged my entrance.  I also noticed, because I was trying not to look too practiced at Starbucking, that there was no signage to indicate where I should order.  In fact the pick up area was closer to the door than the ordering, and there was nothing to indicate where I should go.

I eventually wandered up to the cash registers and stood there awkwardly for a few minutes while I waited for someone to find the time to acknowledge my presence.  (The two non-cleaning baristas were apparently serving drive-thru customers.)  Finally, when the third decided laying claim to my hard earned money was more important than carrying out his vendetta against fingerprints and smudges, he stepped over to the cash register.

What would you like today?

That’s a good question.  What do I want?

*chuckle* *awkward pause*

No seriously.  I don’t know what I want.  What would you suggest. (I hope I can be forgiven of that little lie.  I knew what I wanted.  When at Starbucks, I’m a triple, venti, no-fat caramel Macchiato kind of guy.)

Umm . . . I don’t know, there’s lots of stuff.

Well, I like coffee. (I know how lame that sounds, but trust me, it’s called acting.  I was going for awkward newbie. And I didn’t want him suggesting some namby-pamby Strawberry Vanilla Fluff-and-Stuff or whatever they call it.)

Well, we got lots of stuff with coffee in it.  What else do you like? Do you like chocolate? Vanilla?

Of the two, I prefer chocolate.

How about an espresso truffle?  It’s got a shot of espresso and our signature hot chocolate.  It’s really pretty good.

Ok, I’lll try that.

What size?

Umm. Grande?

Image courtesy of MarS from Flickr

Then I paid more for my grande than I would have paid for my usual venti Macchiato (hate to be skeptical, but perhaps he suggested a espresso truffle just because it’s the most expensive thing on the menu.)  I stepped toward the pick up area (which the barista did helpfully point out to me), turned around to look at the spinning rack of Starbucks music, and before I had time to pull out the latest offering from John Legend or Yo-Yo Ma, someone was announcing my order from the pick up area, letting me know my drink was ready.  Somewhat stunned by the speed of preparation, I picked up my drink and made my way around the little seating area to find a seat near an outlet so I could write this blog post.

What I learned

I did notice some striking similarities between my Starbucks experience and worship last Sunday morning.

Starbucks does have it’s own unique language that has no parallels with everyday English (or Italian).  Being one who prefers the independent coffee house to the franchised coffee-flavored-drink-distributors (it still breaks my heart that Brandon’s closed), it’s always peeved me that despite conventional usage, at Starbucks “Tall” means “small.”  It reminds me of the lady at KFC who refused to sell me a small soft drink, pointing out that they only sell medium and large.  What happened to “short”?  And what is a “Venti?” “What size would you like?”  “20, please.”  It’s nonsense.  But then again, we tend to use words in our own unique ways around the church.  At least we don’t trademark words like grace and sue others who attempt to use them.

Starbucks does have it’s own genre of music. Granted, Starbuck’s set list does tend to be “blended” rather than merely contemporary, traditional, jazz or classical – but Starbucks has associated itself with music.  Of course, Starbucks is different in this sense too.  Starbucks music does not typically sound like someone intentionally trying to sound just like someone from the parallel universe of secular music.  (Before you get too offended, I know that there is good Christian music out there from bands that are not only faith-filled but faithful to their own unique sound.  But you know that for every band doing their own thing, there are three others simply trying to ape a sound that has found secular success.)

But neither of these things are really things the Church can learn from Starbucks.  Did I take any lessons away from my Starbucks outing?

You can’t measure how friendly you are based on how welcome you, as a regular, feel. I admitted earlier that I was surprised that no one in the largely customer-less store acknowledged my entrance.  I’m used to walking into Starbucks and having someone say “Hi” before the door closes behind me.  Maybe it’s how well the Anderson franchise’s baristas have been trained.   But maybe it’s also because they’ve seen me there before.  It’s not the regular attender who can best gauge how friendly your church or youth group is – it is the newcomer who already feels awkward and out of place.  It’s your friendliness to this person that really counts.

You can design for conversation. Looking around at the “dining” area the one thing that struck me was how intentionally the room had been designed to promote conversations.  The floor plan was designed with relationships in mind.  Furniture was arranged with relationships in mind.  The room clearly said to everyone who walked through the door “This is a place where you can sit down and talk with a friend.”

Photo courtesy of johnnyphoto on flickr

Design cannot create conversation. Despite the designers’ clear preference for creating conversations, no one, save the guy paid to talk to me, said a word to me.  The workers were too busy to say anything to me beyond what they were contractually obligated to say.  And the regulars were too engrossed in their own conversation to acknowledge my existence with anything but the slightest of head bobs.  All the design in the world can’t make people talk to each other.

It’s far too easy to use busy-ness to excuse us from friendliness. Maybe I picked up on this because I know it is a personal weakness of mine – but I noticed that having something to do made it much easier for people to ignore me.  The quick glances cast in my direction seemed to say “Sorry, I’d love to talk, but I really gotta get this frothing nozzle cleaned.”  And while I was tempted to be annoyed, standing awkwardly alone at the cash register with no one to take my money, I also remembered how often I cast quick glances that say “Sorry, I’d love to talk, but I really gotta make sure I check the batteries in this wireless mic.”  But while busy-ness makes us feel more comfortable about ignoring people, it does nothing to make those who are ignored feel more comfortable.  And as someone who typically has too much to do on Sunday mornings or Tuesday nights, I realize that I need to work harder making sure I have the time to be friendly.