Cups

After I run there is nothing better than a cold glass of water. There is no greater refreshment than the simple elements of cup and water. I recently went out for a run on a rather warm day and returned to my office, cup in hand. As I moved through the doorway I took notice of the sun reflecting off the chalice I have sitting on the coffee table. I use this chalice and plate on the Sundays when we as a church celebrate the Eucharist. Next to that chalice sits a set of beautiful silver glasses that are designed for travel and serving communion in the hospital. On top of those are old, thimble size glass communion cups. Both those and the silver cups were given to me by my wife's grandmother, to whom I am deeply indebted.



I paused as the accidental still-life scene painted itself in my view. The cup of water that was currently refreshing my body suddenly took on a life much greater, and deeper than before I traversed into my office. The idea of cup, a simple device that has been around for untold millenia, stuck me as so profound. Something so simple that takes on so many forms and shapes and colors, often holds the very necessities of life. For the life of those whom profess Jesus this takes on an additional dimension. For, when we celebrate the Eucharist, we are given the cup in which holds the blood of Christ Jesus. The cup, whether it is passed down the pew, held by a priest or pastor, or placed into your hands only so you can be quenched and pass it on to another, holds something which refreshes us. Along with the bread, the cup moves us into a greater reality, a deeper union with our God. A union which empowers us to be the real presence of Christ in the world. A vessel as simple as a cup.