There is something wonderfully civilised about a cup of tea. I am an Earl Grey tea drinker. We British instinctively understand this.
Good news? Put the kettle on.
Bad news? Put the kettle on.
Don’t know whether it’s good news or bad news? Put the kettle on while you decide.
Some nations have constitutions. We have kettles. And I have come to believe there is a theology of the teacup. Not because tea itself is sacred but because of what so often happens around it.
We stop. We sit. We talk. We listen. We laugh. We cry. And occasionally, without realising it, we find ourselves on holy ground.
The Ministry of Slowing Down
We are living faster than ever, but I’m not convinced we are getting anywhere quicker. We have instant messaging, fast food, express checkouts, next-day delivery and high-speed internet – yet nobody seems to have any time. We have become experts at saving time and amateurs at enjoying it.
A cup of tea makes you stop. The kettle boils. The tea brews. You sit down. Some things cannot be rushed. People are among them.
Jesus was extraordinarily busy. Crowds followed him. People wanted healing, teaching, answers and miracles. Yet Jesus never appears frantic. He could stop for Bartimaeus, notice Zacchaeus, talk with a Samaritan woman, take children into his arms. Jesus was not simply physically present; he was personally present. We are not always so good at that. Our body can be in the room while our mind is answering a text, replaying yesterday and organising tomorrow. Perhaps one of the great spiritual disciplines of our age is simply to be where we are. Hurry accomplishes tasks. Presence touches people.
The Teacup and the Tongue
Tea has another remarkable quality: it encourages conversation.
‘How are you?’
‘Fine.’
Which really means: ‘Feeling in need of encouragement.’
A few sips later: ‘Well, actually . . .’ And ‘actually’ is often where the real conversation begins. Actually, I’m worried. Actually, things aren’t going very well. Actually, I don’t know what to do. Actually, I’ve been thinking about God.
The first cup starts the conversation. The second often gets the truth.
The Bible says, ‘Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak’ (James 1:19 NIV).
Many of us would prefer that verse reversed. We are quick to speak, particularly when we have advice available. But people don’t always need answers. Sometimes they need ears. We don’t have to fix every problem, complete every sentence or immediately tell people about the remarkably similar thing that happened to us twenty years ago. Listening is love with its mouth closed. And there is a considerable difference between listening and waiting for your turn to speak.
God in the Ordinary
We often expect to find God in the spectacular – mountaintops, conferences – yet Scripture repeatedly shows God using ordinary things. Moses had a staff. David had a sling. A widow had a jar of oil. Jesus used a towel and basin, bread and wine. God seems remarkably comfortable with ordinary things. We keep looking for fireworks; God keeps lighting candles. Some of life’s holiest moments don’t look particularly holy.
A conversation around the kitchen table.
A telephone call at exactly the right moment.
A friend sitting beside you when life hurts.
Laughter returning after a season of sadness.
A cup of tea with somebody who needs to talk.
Never underestimate an ordinary moment placed in God’s hands. A cup of tea won’t change the world, but a conversation over one might.
Friendship Needs Time
Friendships are rarely sustained by grand gestures. They grow through small investments made repeatedly. Time. Attention. Questions. Laughter. Tears. Shared memories. And quite possibly Earl Grey tea.
You cannot microwave friendship, it has to brew. Some friendships, like good tea, grow stronger with time. Others, unfortunately, get stewed.
Then there is the delicate question of what to do when somebody has stayed rather longer than anticipated. Christians can find this difficult. We want to be gracious. We want to be loving. We also want to get on. Over the years I have developed a phrase which combines Christian spirituality with unmistakable clarity: ‘Let’s just pray before you go.’
The important words are ‘before you go’. Don’t simply say, ‘Let’s pray.’ You could be there for another hour. ‘Let’s pray before you go’ establishes both the spiritual activity and the travel arrangements. Even the Holy Spirit understands the meeting is ending.
Grace needs boundaries. Jesus loved people deeply but he also withdrew. Sometimes the most gracious words you can say are, ‘It’s been wonderful seeing you.’ Notice the tense.
Leave Some Margin
Many of Jesus’s memorable encounters arrived as interruptions. Bartimaeus shouted from the roadside. Jairus arrived with an emergency. A woman touched Jesus’s robe while he was on his way to Jairus’s house. Children appeared when the disciples apparently had more important things to do.
Jesus repeatedly turned interruptions into encounters. We organise life around appointments. God sometimes arrives without one. Of course, not every interruption is divine. Some interruptions are simply interruptions. Wisdom is knowing the difference. But if every minute is allocated, every silence filled and every gap occupied, perhaps there is no room left for the unexpected.
A diary can be full while a life is empty. Leave some margin. It is often in the margins that meaningful conversations happen.
Another Cup
There is another cup at the heart of the Christian faith. On the night before the cross, Jesus took a cup: ‘Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them . . .’ (Matthew 26:27 NIV).
That cup pointed towards the cross. It reminds us that Christianity is ultimately not about what we do for God but what God has done for us. Jesus gave himself. At the cross, love wasn’t merely spoken; love acted.
Grace is not God giving us what we deserve. Grace is God giving us himself.
Perhaps the humble teacup can remind us of that principle. When we sit with another person, listen and give them our undivided attention, we are giving something that cannot be recovered: time.
Money can be replaced. Possessions can be replaced. Time cannot. When you give someone your time, you give them a piece of your life.
Put the Kettle On
Perhaps we sometimes make life more complicated than it needs to be. We don’t always need another strategy. We don’t always need another meeting. And we certainly don’t always need another WhatsApp group.
Sometimes we need to sit down. Listen. Talk. Laugh. Cry. Be present.
We need fewer conversations through screens and more across tables.
Fewer emojis and more emotions.
Fewer ‘We must catch up’s and more ‘How about Tuesday?’
Life is largely lived in the ordinary moments between the big occasions. And one day we may discover that those ordinary moments were the big occasions.
So make time.
Ask another question.
Listen to the answer.
Laugh often.
Leave some margin.
And when you don’t quite know what else to do, there is always one deeply theological response: put the kettle on.
And if, after several cups, I say, ‘Let’s just pray before you go . . .’ you know what that means!
J.John
