Catholics and coffee, Buddhists and tea: What's the connection between religion and these favourite beverages?

What’s the relationship between coffee and religion? That question occurred to me this summer when I was an instructor at a week-long event for aspiring Catholic journalists in Toronto. Whenever journalists gather, there will be conversation — and coffee. Lots of coffee. 

In that case, it was Catholic coffee. 

“Catholic coffee?” you ask. “What is that?” 

Catholic Coffee is the name of a small family business in Charlotte, N.C. Its goal is to use a daily habit of drinking coffee, especially in the morning, to focus attention on God through devotion and prayer. For decades, peacekeeping has been part of Canada’s identity — internationally and at home. 

Read more about Catholic coffee, and its tie to religion and ritual, with a bonus look at spirituality and tea, in my most recent column.

A "patient, observant and humane feature journalist": A tribute to Brenda Suderman (died Sept. 19, 2026)

I first met Brenda Suderman in the late 1980s when she was writing for the Mennonite Distorter, a satirical publication that made fun of denominational leaders and bureaucracy, theological disputes and the Mennonite tendency toward earnestness. 

It was famous for the first question its reporters asked everyone they interviewed: “So, where do you get off, anyway?"

I don’t recall what I told her. But I do recall many more meetings with her over the next 40 or so years as we both pursued careers that overlapped and then merged—me in communications for various non-profits and she as a journalist who sometimes interviewed me. 

In 2019, we found ourselves working as freelance religion reporters at the Winnipeg Free Press when she joined my Religion in the News project at the newspaper. 

I mention this because on Sept. 19, Brenda passed away. Her death has prompted a time of remembrance and reflection. 

Raised in Winkler, Brenda graduated from Carleton University’s journalism program in 1988 and worked for newspapers in Fort Smith, NWT, Portage la Prairie, MB, and Saskatoon, SK, as well as freelancing for various publications. 

I started writing for the Free Press as a religion columnist in 2003; Brenda started in 2006, writing general news and features along with religion. She continued doing that until 2023, when she retired. 

We worked together for four of those years, from 2019-23. We found ourselves touching base frequently during that time, checking in to see who would cover what story. 

When she signed off three years ago, she wrote in the Free Press about what that reporting had meant to her—the people and the places she had got to know and visit, and how they impacted her life. 

We never did talk about AI and writing, so I don’t know what she would think of my asking it about her reporting. Here’s what it said: 

Brenda Suderman’s Winnipeg Free Press work is best described as empathetic community journalism: carefully reported, warmly written stories about faith, immigration, memory, neighbourhood life, cultural institutions and the ordinary people who sustain them. 

She was not primarily a confrontational or investigative reporter. Her strength was to enter a community respectfully, find a human story within it, and explain why that story matters beyond the individuals involved. 

It went on to say that, in her reporting, Brenda put people first; that she had strong observational detail; that she had a narrative rather than an argumentative structure; she held a generous view of her subjects; and her writing was accessible without excessive simplification. 

It commended her broad and ecumenical faith coverage, seeing faith not just as something that happens in places of worship, but as part of civic and social life. 

In one sentence, it said she was a “patient, observant and humane feature journalist who turns Winnipeg’s religious, cultural and community life into accessible human narratives—less interested in exposing people than in helping readers understand them.” 

I echo all of that. 

Over the time we knew each other, we didn’t always see eye-to-eye on things. Sometimes we frustrated each other. But I respected her as a journalist and counted her as a friend. 

In journalism, the end of an article is noted with – 30 –. It comes from telegraphy in the 19^th century. That’s when messages came in a roll of paper and it was impossible to tell where one message ended and the other started. 

To assist readers, telegraph operators used it to let people know the end of a message. It meant: “No more — the end.” That code was later used by journalists transmitting stories by telegraph. 

So, for Brenda, we now also say – 30 –. But her stories will live on at the Free Press website.

 

 

 

 

Is God a Christian? Desmond Tutu said no

Is God a Christian? 

That’s the question asked by Archbishop Desmond Tutu in his book God Is Not A Christian: And Other Provocations. 

The book is a collection of sermons, speeches and interviews given by the well-known South African pastor, who died in 2021. 

“His concern is for all his children,” Tutu says in the book, refuting the idea that God is a Christian. 

“To claim God exclusively for Christians is to make God too small and in a real sense is blasphemous. God is bigger than Christians and cares for more than Christians only.” 

Some Christians might object to that line of thinking. Tutu anticipates their objection. For them, he has another question: “Can you tell us what God was before he was a Christian?” 

In a 1989 speech to leaders of different faiths included in the book, Tutu elaborated on this idea by telling the story of a drunk who crossed a street to ask a pedestrian a question. 

“I shay, which ish the other shide of the shtreet?” the drunk asked. The pedestrian replied: “That side, of course!” 

The drunk said, “‘Shtrange. When I wash on that shide, they shaid it wash thish shide.” 

For Tutu, “where the other side of the street is depends on where we are. Our perspective differs with our context, the things that have helped to form us; and religion is one of the most potent of these formative influences, helping to determine how and what we apprehend of reality and how we operate in our own specific context.” 

This seems overwhelmingly simple, he went on to say. “Accidents of birth and geography determine to a very large extent to what faith we belong. The chances are very great that if you were born in Pakistan you are a Muslim, or a Hindu if you happened to be born in India, or a Shintoist if it is Japan, and a Christian if you were born in Italy.”

The lesson to be drawn from these accidents of birth, he suggested, was not to “succumb too easily to the temptation to exclusiveness and dogmatic claims to a monopoly of the truth of our particular faith. You could so easily have been an adherent of the faith that you are now denigrating, but for the fact that you were born here rather than there.” 

This realization, he stated, should make Christians open to learning from people of other faiths. 

“We must acknowledge them for who they are in all their integrity, with their conscientiously held beliefs; we must welcome them and respect them as who they are and walk reverently on what is their holy ground, taking off our shoes, metaphorically and literally,” he stated. 

But that doesn’t mean giving up one’s own deeply held convictions, he added. 

“We must hold to our particular and peculiar beliefs tenaciously, not pretending that all religions are the same, for they are patently not the same. We must be ready to learn from one another, not claiming that we alone possess all truth and that somehow we have a corner on God.” 

At the same time, he believes that members of all faiths should look for commonalities. 

“We have enough that conspires to separate us,” he noted. “Let us celebrate that which unites us, that which we share in common.” 

Tutu concluded his speech by saying: “Surely it is good to know that God (in the Christian tradition) created us all (not just Christians) in his image, thus investing us all with infinite worth… surely we can rejoice that the eternal word, the Logos of God, enlightens everyone — not just Christians, but everyone who comes into the world; that what we call the Spirit of God is not a Christian preserve, for the Spirit of God existed long before there were Christians, inspiring and nurturing women and men in the ways of holiness, bringing them to fruition, bringing to fruition what was best in all.” 

God, he stated, “does not need us to protect him. Many of us perhaps need to have our notion of God deepened and expanded.” 

So, is God a Christian? Tutu says no. What do you think?

Writing about Desmond Tutu gives me a chance to tell my one (and only) Tutu story. In the mid-1980s, when I was directing the Dallas (TX) Peace Center, I invited him to come speak at a conference in that city. We exchanged letters (there being no Internet back then), and at first it seemed hopeful — which was very exciting for the Peace Center board.

But then he wrote me and said he couldn't make it work with his schedule. I went to the next board meeting with the news. I told them: "Tutu said no-no."

Religion news you can use from all around the world, thanks to the Religion Media Centre

 
Jehovah’s Witnesses jailed in Russia. A shortage of clergy in the United Kingdom. A dispute between the Catholic Church and the Trump administration over a sacred site in New Mexico. Baptist churches in Ukraine providing warmth to people in that country in winter. 

These are stories you likely don’t know about. But you could have known about them if you subscribed to the Religion Media Centre. 

Read about those things, and learn more about the Centre, in my most recent Free Press column.

"Are you preparing to meet Jesus?" You might be surprised by who is behind evangelistic billboards across Canada and the U.S.

Maybe you’ve seen them where you live — billboards that say things like: “Jesus is alive!” “Are you preparing to meet Jesus?” “After you die, you will meet God.” They include a phone number to call: 844-FIND-TRUTH.

 

There are two billboards in Winnipeg, my hometown. Across Canada, they can be found in every province except Quebec. There are more than 1,700 scattered across the U.S.

 

Have you ever wondered who is behind them, and why they do it?

 

You might be surprised to learn they are created and sponsored by an Amish/Mennonite organization called Christian Aid Ministries (CAM). The Canadian branch is based in rural Ontario and is funded by Amish and some conservative Mennonite denominations and individuals.

 

Oh, and billboards aren’t the only thing they do. The group also sends out volunteers to do clean-up after natural disasters.

 

Find out more in my recent column in the Free Press.

"We are not numbers." A reporter in Gaza shares about life and faith during the conflict

“We are not numbers.” That’s what Diaa Ostaz, a reporter in Gaza for a Catholic publication, said earlier this month during a Zoom recording from the territory. 

Ostaz, 26, was speaking about the many who have died in Gaza since October, 2023. According to the United Nations, that’s over 73,000 people killed and more than 173,000 injured since that time. At least 20,000 of the dead are children, with more than 44,000 injured. 

The numbers of killed and injured in Gaza are staggering, but people there are not statistics, Ostaz said. 

“We are human beings and we love life. We love to sing, dance and laugh. We love to work, progress and achieve our goals. We laugh a lot and we cry a lot. We are not just images you see on social media and in news broadcasts. We are real. We are not monsters as some people think, or criminals. What happened in the October 7th attack does not represent the beliefs of an entire civilian population … we are looking for peace.” 

Read my interview with Ostaz in the Free Press. 

Photo above: Diaa Ostaz talks with a boy in the rubble in Gaza.

U.S. war against Iran puts some in awkward position due to Iranian government's persecution of Christians, Jews and, especially, Baha'is

The war between the U.S. and Iran has put some of us in an uncomfortable position. 

On the one hand, we can feel like cheering on the Iranians as we watch them stand up to the American bully. It’s like the enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the old saying goes. 

On the other hand, Iran doesn’t feel like much of a friend because of its terrible human rights record — including its treatment of religious minorities in that country such as Christians, Jews and Baha’is. 

Those abuses only seem to be increasing due to the war. The United Nations has condemned the Iranian government for how it is treating religious minorities during this time, saying it is using the war as “a smokescreen to deepen their machinery of repression and carry out crimes under international law with impunity.” 

Christians and Jews are among those targeted by the theocratic Shia Muslim regime. But it is members of the Baha’i faith who are getting the worst of it, and for the longest period of time. 

Read my latest column in the Free Press.