I’m in a local Starbucks. A man just outside is playing “Fairest Lord Jesus” followed by “There is a Fountain Filled with Blood” on a flute, the couple next to me is smooching and making loud smacking noises with their lips, the espresso machine is shooting out steaming milk and the Grateful Dead is swearing, over and over again in the background, that they will get by. Fine for them. I’m not sure I will. This place that has long been my office away from home is starting to give me a headache. Meanwhile, three mothers come in with their babies in buggies fit for a road trip — all three talking at once as if they were trying to be heard across the Grand Canyon. I’m not sure I can work here anymore.

Yet it’s the noise of life, and no one is being asked to respect the fact that this is doubling as my office. They most certainly don’t have to adjust to me; I must adjust to them, and if I can no longer work here, then I should find another place more suitable to my needs.

Ever wish the world were like this — that you could go to another one down the street when this one gets too crowded or uncomfortable or scary or annoying? Some people are trying to create another world inside this one that’s safer, more manageable, and not inflicted with things like the homeless, the poor and those we find objectionable.

Suddenly the man playing hymns on his flute seems quite appropriate. He’s actually quite good and the sound is somehow soothing. Finding a way to worship God in the middle of this world seems more the thing to do than come up with another, more worshipful world. We’re going to do the worshiping anyway; no one can do this for us. Learn to worship wherever you are.

Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature,
O Thou of God and man the Son,
Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,
Thou, my soul’s glory, joy and crown.

I like this guy — playing his flute for free in a crowded Starbucks. Reminds me of a lyric by Joni Mitchell:

I was standing on a noisy corner
Waiting for the walking green
Across the street he stood
And he played real good
On his clarinet, for free.

I think this is a good metaphor for how to be in the world — not trying to leave it, or change it, but gladly bringing a bit of beauty to it.