I won't get into the details behind why I have this attitude, but to sum up a whole ball of contradictory emotions into one statement: I feel ambivalent about religion. I believe that spirituality is essential to the human experience. I believe that there is some supernatural beings (or probably multiple ones) that we can refer to as "God." I realize that our universe is not the only one and that the six days of creation described in the Bible represent the long (understatement) process of evolution that our globe went through (talk about growing pains!). In all, I remain cautious and skeptical about the costs and benefits of religion, even though I belong to one of the largest religious institutions in the world.
Being of the "live and let live" and "learn about every religion because each reveals some part of Faith" school, I try not to let religion play a significant role in my public life. I do not talk about religious practice as a social topic (academic discussions are fine) if I can help it. I would certainly not try to convert anyone to my religion, and if anyone asked about it, I would share what I personally believe but never call it the utmost truth. You can consider these proclivities as stemming from fears about imposing my intellectual will on others (I do that enough professionally), becoming blind and closed-minded due to religious fervor, and allowing religion rather than reason to dictate *all* of my beliefs and actions.
But lo and behold, religion found me in the form of a serendipitous decision to visit the "Bonfire Cafe" in Causeway Bay. No, the storefront does not display large black, yellow, and orange flames. Rather, the shop's color scheme is mostly pastel green, yellow, and white. It's not a place that shows off the tough, daring nature of coffee, like a place I will write about another time. The atmosphere is like that of a hospital canteen (cafeteria), except less sterile and more cheerful.
I ordered a Costa Rican coffee, French pressed, and sat down with a glass of water to start. I only wanted to kill some time before a neighboring store opened, so I concentrated on doing some reading while waiting for the coffee. When it arrived, I noticed that the sugar and warm milk were placed neatly by the side of the cup. I passed on the sugar, but I tried some of the warm milk in the coffee after the first few sips and everything, temperature and taste, were in sync.
It was only as I was leaving the cafe that I realized the Catholic mission of the establishment. If I were a "good" Catholic, I would think that God led me there, but given that I'm of the "Catholicism is one of many manifestations of spirituality" kind (not the Vatican's favorite, I imagine), I figured that He just wanted me to have a delicious cup of coffee and that fate determined the rest...
Being of the "live and let live" and "learn about every religion because each reveals some part of Faith" school, I try not to let religion play a significant role in my public life. I do not talk about religious practice as a social topic (academic discussions are fine) if I can help it. I would certainly not try to convert anyone to my religion, and if anyone asked about it, I would share what I personally believe but never call it the utmost truth. You can consider these proclivities as stemming from fears about imposing my intellectual will on others (I do that enough professionally), becoming blind and closed-minded due to religious fervor, and allowing religion rather than reason to dictate *all* of my beliefs and actions.
But lo and behold, religion found me in the form of a serendipitous decision to visit the "Bonfire Cafe" in Causeway Bay. No, the storefront does not display large black, yellow, and orange flames. Rather, the shop's color scheme is mostly pastel green, yellow, and white. It's not a place that shows off the tough, daring nature of coffee, like a place I will write about another time. The atmosphere is like that of a hospital canteen (cafeteria), except less sterile and more cheerful.
I ordered a Costa Rican coffee, French pressed, and sat down with a glass of water to start. I only wanted to kill some time before a neighboring store opened, so I concentrated on doing some reading while waiting for the coffee. When it arrived, I noticed that the sugar and warm milk were placed neatly by the side of the cup. I passed on the sugar, but I tried some of the warm milk in the coffee after the first few sips and everything, temperature and taste, were in sync.
It was only as I was leaving the cafe that I realized the Catholic mission of the establishment. If I were a "good" Catholic, I would think that God led me there, but given that I'm of the "Catholicism is one of many manifestations of spirituality" kind (not the Vatican's favorite, I imagine), I figured that He just wanted me to have a delicious cup of coffee and that fate determined the rest...
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