empty your cup
don’t be so full of yourself
Once upon a time, in a faraway place, the master had a visitor who came to inquire about wisdom. But instead of listening, the visitor kept talking about his own concerns and giving his own thoughts on the matter.
After a while, the master served tea. He poured the steaming liquid into his visitor’s cup until it was full, and then he kept on pouring.
Finally the visitor could bear it no longer. “Don’t you see that my cup is full?” he exclaimed. “It’s not possible to get anymore in.”
“That is true,” the master said, stopping at last. “And like this cup, you are filled with your own ideas. How can you expect me to give you wisdom unless you first empty your cup?”
We tend to be the same way. We tend to be filled with our own thoughts, our own opinions. Sometimes we don’t hesitate to inflict them on others, no matter how asinine they may be. Just like the fellow in the story who professed to be seeking wisdom, there’s no more room in our tea cups.
Every year, the church observes a season, which if properly approached, helps us to deal with making room in our cups. “Lent is the process of emptying our cups,” says Joan Chittister. (FYI: she is a sister at Mt. Saint Benedict monastery in Erie, PA.)
“Lent is the time for trimming the soul and scraping the sludge off a life turned slipshod.” (136) It’s a time for getting rid of the junk in our lives. That’s part of what spiritual formation is all about, which is a day-to-day, year-round process. Still, it’s important to have this business of Lenten renewal as a special focus.
Many people believe that Lent is meant to be a time of doom and gloom, of self-flagellation. And some people do beat themselves up, symbolically if not physically. But in reality, what does that accomplish? Maybe there is a feeling of self-sacrifice, of extra holiness, by giving up certain things — and making sure everyone else hears all about it!
But does that deal with the problem of being full of ourselves? Doesn’t approaching Lent with that attitude only substitute one set of problems for another? Outwardly, it may look like we’re serving God, but Lent is about more than what we’re giving up. It’s about what we need.
Consider Jesus, who for forty days was out in the desert. He went without food, but he was full of the Holy Spirit. He emptied himself; he allowed God to fill him. And what better way to go about the process of self-emptying than by the way of humble gratitude? That’s what lies behind the ritual in the Old Testament reading in Deuteronomy 26.
The chapter begins, “When you have come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you” (v. 1). There’s already a note of grace… of gift. So what follows after that? Is there a warning about giving something up to God so that you won’t look too spiritual? Hardly! Just as with Lent, outward actions do matter. How we go about them is a different question.
This ritual has outward and inward action. Outward action is mentioned in verses 2 and 10: bringing “the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me.” You’ve heard people claim to be self-made? Well, according to this, there’s no such creature. Everything we have, even the language to express our thoughts, has been provided by someone else.
Inward action is found in the response starting at verse 5, which comes after the priest has collected the offering. We hear the phrase to be repeated, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien.”
This ritual is a continual reminder to the Israelites that they themselves are the descendants of immigrants, foreigners who were harshly dealt with. The inward action this should inspire is the humble gratitude I mentioned earlier.
One writer has said, “The overwhelming message is one of deep thankfulness for what God has done for them… In this ritual the people are to remember where they came from and who brought them to this place.”
Okay, let’s review! We began with the idea of our tea cups being full, so to speak. We’re so filled with our own thoughts and opinions that it’s hard to allow room for God. We need to empty ourselves; that’s a big part of what Lent is all about. Being humbly grateful is an excellent way of emptying our cups. It’s a great way of admitting that we don’t know everything.
The ritual described in Deuteronomy 26 has that in mind. The people are reminded that they’ve been given the land they inhabit. They need to make a confession of faith; they need to state out loud, “I know that my ancestors were refugees. In time, their treatment became so severe that God had to deliver them. That’s why I bring this offering of the first fruit.”
And so, that’s the end of that! (Not exactly.) Hear verse 11: “Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house.” Invite the resident aliens to the celebration.
Let’s have a party!
What would it mean for us today to “celebrate with all the bounty” the Lord has given us with resident aliens? And would that include undocumented workers? (I won’t get into the political and economic ramifications!)
Howard Wallace, minister in the Uniting Church in Australia, has noted, “While Deuteronomy may have some things to teach us about a response to God’s gifts, we cannot miss the fact that in Deuteronomy, the gift of the land to the Israelites came at the expense of the dispossession of others.” When we dehumanize people, when we torture people, there’s not much moral high ground left to claim.
Still, the political factors are only a symptom of deeper spiritual issues. Again, as Joan Chittister says, “Lent is the time to make new efforts to be what we say we want to be.” (136) Lent challenges the easy answers.
But what does that mean? How does Lent challenge the easy answers? Here’s an example. In America, we’re taught to pad our resumé; do whatever it takes to make ourselves look good. We’re told that more is better. If our cup is overflowing, then let it overflow, baby!
Our Lenten journey leads us to the glory of Easter. Now there’s some big-time bounty, major overabundance! However, to arrive at that destination, we have to take the way of the cross. The cross turns all of our usual expectations about life upside down.
The model for Lent, with all its sorrow and joy, is Jesus. During his forty days in the wilderness, Jesus rejects the devil’s apparently quite reasonable suggestions. If you have the power, why not do what it takes to prove it? Why not take over the world? Think of all the good you could do!
I’ll close with some questions. What does Lent mean for us, right here, right now? How do we share our treasure in Christ with those who are strangers to us? (That may even be our next-door neighbor.) How do we empty our cups; how do we empty ourselves? That is what the Lenten journey is all about.
(Here is a link to Wellspring Center)
