Picture this: The sun is dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and burnt gold. You’re settled into a worn leather chair on the back porch, the crickets beginning their evening liturgy. In your hand is a 1689 London Maduro, its dark, toothy wrapper shimmering slightly in the low light. You strike a match, wait for the flame to steady, and toast the foot with the reverence of a man handling a sacred relic. As the first silky ribbon of smoke drifts upward, a sense of profound peace settles over you.
Yet, for many in the pews today, this scene doesn’t evoke peace: it evokes a twitch of the "legalist’s nerve." There is a peculiar, persistent shadow that haunts the modern Christian church: a fear of the very things God called good.
The Gnostic Ghost in the Sanctuary
We have, in many circles, inherited a functional Gnosticism: a belief that the spiritual is "holy" and the physical is, at best, a distraction or, at worst, a snare. We’ve been conditioned to look at the world through a lens of suspicion rather than stewardship. We see the grape and think only of the drunkard; we see the leaf and think only of the addict.
But when we retreat into a fortress of "thou shalt nots" regarding things the Creator has provided, we aren't being more holy; we are being less biblical.
In the beginning, the Architect of the Universe surveyed the vast tapestry of His creation: the towering cedars, the fermenting juices, and yes, the broad leaves of the Nicotiana plant: and declared it "very good" (Genesis 1:31). To fear the physical is to insult the Artist. To suggest that a well-crafted cigar is inherently "unholy" is to whisper that God made a mistake in the soil of the earth.
Psalm 104: The Liturgy of Creation
If you want to understand the Reformed perspective on the "good life," you must sit with Psalm 104. It is a symphony of creation-appreciation. The Psalmist praises God for the grass that grows for the cattle and "herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart" (Psalm 104:14-15).
Tobacco, like the grape or the grain, is a "herb for the service of man." When harvested with care, aged with patience, and rolled by the steady hands of a master torcedor, it becomes a physical conduit for a spiritual reality: the gift of rest.
Abusus Non Tollit Usum: The Rule of the Wise
There is a venerable Latin maxim that every man of faith should carry in his pocket like a well-worn challenge coin: Abusus non tollit usum. Abuse does not negate proper use.
Because a glutton overeats, shall we swear off the steak? Because a fool speaks too much, shall we cut out our tongues? Of course not. The Christian life is not a sprint away from the physical world; it is a disciplined walk through it, using all things for the glory of the Father.
When we pick up a Westminster Habano or a Savoy Connecticut, we are engaging in an act of sophisticated appreciation. We are discerning the nuances of the soil, the climate, and the craft. We are not "slaves to a habit" but masters of a gift. We chew the fat, we discuss the deep mysteries of the universe, and we do so with a clear conscience, knowing that "to the pure, all things are pure" (Titus 1:15).
The Lion of London and His Cigar
No discussion of the "theology of tobacco" is complete without tipping one's hat to the "Prince of Preachers," Charles Haddon Spurgeon. Spurgeon was a man who lived with a Bible in one hand and, quite often, a cigar in the other.
When challenged by a fellow minister about his penchant for the leaf, Spurgeon didn't retreat. He famously declared that he intended to go home and "smoke a good cigar to the glory of God." To the modern legalist, this sounds like a scandalous joke. To Spurgeon, it was a profound theological statement.
He believed that when he found his weary brain soothed and his body relaxed by a fine cigar, he was experiencing a temporal mercy from God. He was grateful for the relief. He was thankful for the craft. In that gratitude, God was glorified.
The 1689 Standard: Craftsmanship as Worship
At 1689 Cigar Co., we don’t just sell tobacco; we celebrate a heritage. We believe that if you are going to enjoy the fruits of creation, you should do so with excellence. There is something fundamentally "Reformed" about a handcrafted cigar. It is the opposite of the "cheap and fast" culture of our age.
- The London (Blue Band): A blend that demands your attention without shouting. Whether it's the creamy London Connecticut or the spicy Habano, it’s a study in balance: much like a well-constructed sermon.
- The Westminster (Orange Band): Bold, robust, and unapologetic. The Westminster Maduro is for the man who wants to settle in for a long discussion on the sovereignty of God while the smoke coils around him like a clandestine meeting in a 17th-century coffee house.
- The Savoy (Teal Band): Elegant and complex. The Savoy varieties offer a symphony of flavors that remind us that the world is far more "nuanced" than the legalists would have us believe.
A Call to Christian Liberty
Brothers, it is time we stopped apologizing for enjoying the world our Father built. Christian liberty is not a license to sin; it is the freedom to be human. It is the ability to enjoy a sample pack of fine cigars, to share a pour of bourbon with a friend, and to laugh heartily without looking over your shoulder for the "piety police."
When we fear the good, we inadvertently tell the world that our God is a cosmic killjoy. But when we enjoy the "herb for the service of man" with moderation, thanksgiving, and a fraternal spirit, we show the world a more beautiful truth: that we serve a God who gives "us richly all things to enjoy" (1 Timothy 6:17).
So, the next time you light up a Savoy Maduro, do so with a grin. Let the aroma be a "sweet-smelling savor" that reminds you of the goodness of the earth and the grace of the Gospel.
Amen? Amen.
A Riddle for the Wise: I have no voice, yet I speak of peace. I have no heart, yet I bring brothers together. I am born of fire, I die in ash, and while I live, I am the cloud that follows the sun. What am I? (Look to your humidor for the answer.)
FDA Disclaimer: 1689 Cigar Co. products are not a safe alternative to cigarettes. Tobacco products contain nicotine, an addictive chemical. These products are intended for use by adults of legal smoking age only.
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