The Way Life Is

Join me for a cuppa.

The chorus lyrics to an old youth choir song:

Fill my cup, Lord.  I lift it up, Lord.
Come and quench this thirsting of my soul.
Bread of heaven, feed me 'til I want no more.
Fill my cup; fill it up and make me whole.

I just started a new book this morning, The Cup of Our Life: a Guide for Spiritual Growth by Joyce Rupp.  The author describes a cup as a metaphor for life.  It's as if we're born thirsty and holding a cup.  With what will you choose to fill it?  It's a rich metaphor... 

'My cup overflows with blessings.'  Psalm 23

'This cup is the new covenant.' Luke 22

There's a verse I remember from childhood about offering a cup of cold water in Jesus' name, but I can't find it this afternoon.  [a disadvantage to working for a church... my 'good' Bibles are at the office haha]

Anyway, I'm thinking this afternoon about the various things I put in my cup and what leaks right out.  Self-righteousness, status, material possessions... these things give a temporary feeling of fullness but it never lasts.  Even good things like work and family can be idols, destined to leak out of our cups slowly and leave us empty.  I've had this conversation with various people this week - how we can make an idol of our partners and expect him or her to fulfill our emotional and spiritual needs.  Even the care and love of our children isn't enough to fulfill us.  After all, children grow up and cease to need our daily attention.

So what is adequate?  Is it just a fact of this life that we are restless and unfulfilled?

At the end of worship at Shadow Rock, we close with Words of Mission, "May we love all and serve all."  This just might do it - knowing our place in the Universe.  Not gods, not just space dust... but blessed children put on the earth to learn to love actively.

So what's in my cup today?  It's coffee of course.  The cup of friendship and hospitality, with caffeine for energy to do good in the world.

Re-invention

I have a story to tell this afternoon.  You probably have heard it before with different characters. 

In eighth grade social studies (North Carolina history with Ms. Andrews, to be precise), I sat across from a guy named Victor.  Victor could have been an extra in Revenge of the Nerds - thick square glasses, oxford shirts, hair parted straight and on the side.  I wasn't exactly setting the world ablaze with 13 year old hotness, so we struck up a friendly acquaintance.  Nothing earth-shattering, nothing deep - just two slightly geeky adolescents chatting in the minutes before Ms. Andrews entered the classroom, fresh from a smoke break.

In the fall of 1984, I entered high school.  So did Victor.  I saw him on the first day of school.  Oh.My.God.  He had spent the summer going all kinds of Depeche Mode.  Different clothes, spiky hair with plenty of Sun-In, contacts, eyeliner.  No longer Victor, he was now just Vic.  I wonder now... how much time did he spend over the summer deciding what and how to change?  What inspired him?  Who supported him in the decision?  What did he hope to achieve with a change in appearance?  And now, 23 years later, how does he remember that change and is there anything he regrets?

Well I'm sad to say that I haven't seen Vic since high school so I can't answer any of those questions.  But I still wonder.  And I wonder even more about other kinds of reinvention.  Aren't we desperately in need of reinvention?  The church in general and my own church in particular needto grow.  We need adults who are not afraid of change, not afraid of doubts and questions.  We need education for everyone that focuses on growth and formation rather than orthodoxy and rightness.  We need people who are so inspired by Good News that they are passionate about a better world for everyone.  We need courage.

So I wonder about Vic.  I wonder about the courage that it took for him to leave behind his nerdy-ness (which must have been in some ways comfortable) and try something bold and new. 

Thanks, Victor, old friend.  Grace to you, wherever you are.