On suffering from Dietrich Bonnhoeffer in Letters and Papers from Prison:

"It is a good thing to learn early that God and suffering are not opposites but rather one and the same thing and necessarily so; for me, the idea that God himself suffers is far and away the most convincing piece of Christian doctrine."

This came as a comment that wouldn't post, but Lisa Cooper brings up a good question:

"I'm having a hard time this week. I seem to be digging up lots of old, deep hurts and inadequacies, and it's rather uncomfortable. Is anyone else having trouble? On a positive note, I feel like I have always known that God is there and comforting me in my dark times, because so often I haven't felt like there was anyone else. He has been my constant since childhood. I feel so blessed with my gift of Faith." Lisa

I'm not much of an artist, but in the spirit of overcoming the idea that everything I do must be done well, I've forced myself to do art. So I draw, paint, and color lopsided creations and fully accept them how they are. As I was drawing my cup of tears this morning (the theme for the week for the Cup of Our Life), I noticed something new about my cup. The cup I'm using is a wooden chalice-like cup I picked up in Iquitos, Peru—a blood-wood, it is called—kind of like a reddish mahogany. I guess because I was drawing it and paying attention to its lines, I noticed that one side of my cup is light with golden red tones, and one side is dark with lots of darker shading. I know so little about art I often am frustrated trying to figure out how one draws light—it’s much easier to draw darkness.

Last week, our reflections for the study were on the chipped cup—the idea of accepting our flaws and weaknesses. I’m a recovering perfectionist. Naming my flaws and weaknesses is, well, a strong-point for me. Accepting them is not. Which is huge theologically because it makes it hard for me to accept grace as well. So I didn’t have a lot to write last week—though plenty on which to reflect.

I appreciate the light and dark of my cup—and the metaphor it contains.

From the chipped cup to the broken cup, on to another week. Here's a reflection from Carolyn:



On pain and suffering

I approach this portion of the study with trepidation. I beg to disagree with our author-that great pain and sorrow is contingent on how we view brokenness, and we may not be able to receive pain “rightly” so that it transforms our lives. Life’s pains can be the holes of a living hell. Sure, God gives us grace, strength, and support. Our experiences with the crucibles of pain and sorrow become the point where our faith will be ground out of us or a hearty strain of belief will survive to flourish. The tsunamis of horror and hurt that knock us over, remove the comforts that surrounded us, and take the living breath out of us are so unknowable, so unexplainable, that holding on to Belief is all that holds us up until the waves reside. Still I cannot fault any human from screaming “Why” with all they can muster. Why the honing, the sharpening, the cutting, the pruning, the firing for perfecting children created by a loving God? Reynolds Price says, “It’s a serious thing, agreeing to watch a loved one through so much pain and humiliation that you are helpless to cease, much less stop. You cannot refuse it but it breaks down something in you that will never heal.” I do pray for healing or scars we can live with.

In church today the sermon was about how tenderly God cares for us during our depressions, pains, shame, and hardship. God’s love is not entirely about our triumphs and transformations. The brokenness is with us but so is God. I decided my cup needed a change this afternoon. I removed the stones that have anchored it for three weeks and out we went to the backyard. The cup and I spent time in the sunshine by the fishpond and in the shadow of the woods behind the house. I filled my empty cup with pieces of colored glass from the birdbath. The cup is resting in a sunny window at the moment. Who knows what it will hold during the next three weeks.

Speaking of space, here's a reflection from Donna Baker:

"I really like the book and the devotions and I am reading from "The Message" which is just great too. I am starting to feel like God is calling me to my "spot" on the gazebo early in the AM. I saw the sun coming thru the trees the other day, and it was awesome there in the early morning with my little candle lit and thinking about the thought for the day. I seem to be more aware throughout the day to listen and try to receive things from God. I felt God nudging me today and got up at 6am (I never wake up at 6am) and went to my spot. This is one of the growth things that has been lacking in my life, and it is making me feel God's presence."

Joyce Rupp writes, "How much easier it is for most of us to give than it is to receive" (p 55). The Gospel lectionary passage for this week is Luke 7:36-50, the story of a woman weeping, wiping off her tears from Jesus' feet with her hair, and annointing them. The passage points out the woman is a sinner, and a Pharisee stands nearby assessing the situation. How much easier to be the assessor in control than the one overcome with emotion at the feet of Jesus receiving the gift of grace.

May you be open to the gift of grace!

Blogging hasn't been this much fun for me since the first few times I made entries! I love the community aspect of this. And to add to it, first thing on this Monday morning, I received an email from someone in the Cup of Our Life study who requested that I post this anonymously:

"I was holding my cup this morning and doing my breathing prayer. 'I listen, You are here' and for some reason the vision that appeared in my head was when I transfer a file on the computer to a folder. I just drag, click and it's in there! Everytime I do that I can't get over the simplicity of that action and how much is transferred or "enters" with just a simple action. The simple action of just remaining open and listening and God will be in me. God's entrance is just a click away. I usually start my day with a list of things to do, usually written. I have started adding the task for the day to this list."

Thanks for that powerful reflection!

God in the ordinary. As I sum up the week on my Saturday reflection, what stands out most from the week is the call to notice something ordinary and learn from it. This stands out because it seems to me (this week at least) that it is at the heart of spiritual formation. Those who are deeply disciplined in their spiritual lives and have much fruit to show from it don't leap from one mountain top to another--they walk, sometimes plod, along with God in the ordinariness of life. And from that, the Holy Spirit is able to open their eyes to the more extraordinary. This gives me faith in my ordinary plodding.

Grace and peace,
Jess

Maria emailed me today with this reflection for posting:

"I am enjoying the study very much. Despite the fact that 'my cup overfloweth with things to do,' I have kept my appointment every morning with God. I have really enjoyed the reading, reflecting, quiet time, and even journaling. I have written 12 pages so far!

As I read today's section, I was thinking about how I had to come to my special spot in my house to meet God, with my cup emptied of all of the duties and deadlines, the things to do, in order to have Him fill my cup with His Living Water. Today I pray for my cup to overflow with the Living Water instead of the other stuff."

Thanks for a good reflection, Maria--may all our days be filled with Living Water.

"Like the cup with its boundaries,

we, too, need parameters

so that our life does not seep away

into endless busy-ness

and unguarded, unfocused activity"

(Cup of Our Life, 22).