Can you drink the cup – The Cup of Sorrow

Over the next four weeks I want to revisit the series I did based on one of the books written by Henri Nouwen. In this book, Henri examined the question of life and specifically the Christian life using the metaphor of a cup. There are four ways in which we will consider the metaphor. Today we will look at the cup of sorrow. Next week will be the cup of joy followed by the cup of blessing and finally the cup of salvation.

Henri uses this metaphor in a very practical way. He begins his exploration by inviting us to take hold of the cup. After all, whatever our cup may contain, we cannot really drink from it unless we take hold of it. Now the first thing Henri notices is that too often people just pick up their cup and gulp down the contents without giving much thought to the benefit of what is in the cup – the cup is simply a means to an end.  He wants us to pause and think about what the cup may contain before rushing to down its contents.

What led Henri to focus his thoughts on this way was shaped by the experience of watching his family drink wine. Even though wine was a daily part of the evening meal, it was always something to be savoured with sense of smell, the sense of sight and the sense of taste. Of course, the sense of touch was also a part of it for it was truly impossible to taste the contents without lifting the cup with one’s hands. Once the nose had caught the aroma and the eyes had examined the colour and depth, then the mouth could more fully appreciate the value of what the cup contained.

What that taught Henri was that what filled the cup was not just a liquid to be consumed without thinking; it was something to be consumed with knowledge.  When he thought about life, he saw a similarity to the contents of that cup.  To just live is not enough. Henri reflects: “We must know what we are living. A life that is not reflected upon isn’t worth living. Half of living is reflecting on what is being lived. The greatest joy as well as the greatest pain of living come not only from what we live but even more from how we think and feel about what we are living.” (Can you drink the cup, p. 26)

He goes on to say:

“Holding the cup of life means looking critically at what we are living. This requires great courage, because when we start looking, we might be terrified by what we see… We are tempted to say: Let’s just live life.  All this thinking about it makes things harder.  Still, we know that without looking at life critically we lose our vision and our direction. Holding the cup of life is a hard discipline.  We are thirsty people who like to start drinking at once.  But we need to restrain our impulse to drink, put both of our hands around the cup, and ask ourselves, “What am I given to drink? What is in my cup? Is it safe to drink? Is it good for me? Will it bring me health?” (Can you drink the cup, p. 27-28)

No two lives are the same. We often compare our lives with those of others, trying to decide whether we are better or worse off, but such comparisons do not help us much.  We have to live our own life, not someone else’s. We have to hold our own cup.  We have to dare to say: “This is my life, the life that is given to me, and it is this life that I have to live, as well as I can. My life is unique. Nobody else will ever live it. Many people can help me to live my life, but after all is said and done; I have to make my own choices about how to live.” (Can you drink the cup, p. 28) This is not an easy thing to say to ourselves because doing so confronts us with an aspect of life that can truly scare us - our aloneness. But it is also a wonderful challenge because it acknowledges our uniqueness. We must hold our cup and fully claim who we are and what we are called to live.

Suffering and sorrow are part of the human experience. There is no one of us here who has not experienced some suffering or sorrow in our lives.  As members together in the body of Christ, we are reminded by Paul that the suffering of one becomes the suffering of all and yet we know that we can only enter so far into the suffering and sorrow of each other. We can never fully walk in another’s shoes for each of us walk our own path in our own shoes, but we can sympathize with one another and seek to be willing to come alongside one another as we deal with our suffering and sorrow.

We also know that our world is full of people who suffer and sorrow. Our modern media continues to ensure that we are never without a story of suffering and sorrow.  And we can find it even in our community if we are willing to look for it. And while for each of us our sorrows are deeply personal, they are also universal.

“Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” Jesus asked the disciples. They say yes as I am sure we all would when asked by a close friend to follow; but they really had no idea to what they were agreeing. The cup that Jesus would drink is the deep cup of sorrow. His cup is not just the sorrow over his life and the path that he is to take, but the cup of sorrow for the whole human race.  His cup is one of deep physical, mental, and spiritual anguish.  His cup is the cup that holds the things that bring deep suffering - starvation, torture, loneliness, rejection, abandonment, and the sense of anguish.  His cup is truly a cup full of bitterness.  That is the cup that the disciples are asked to drink. But who among us could truly drink that cup?

When the moment came for Jesus to drink that cup, he said: “My soul is sorrowful to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). Luke records that his agony was so intense that “his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood” (Luke 22:44). Two of his close friends, James and John - the ones who had been challenged to drink this cup - were there with him on the mount. But they – like Peter – had fallen asleep, unable to stay awake with him in his moment of great anguish and sorrow.  Alone, he fell on his face and cried out: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by” (Matthew 26:39). Jesus struggled to hold that cup – a cup that he knew contained too much pain to hold, too much suffering to embrace, and too much agony to live through.  Yet he knew that this was his cup to hold and to drink – a cup filled to the brim with the sorrows of all the world and its people. He would need strength and courage to take hold of it and drink its contents.

Henri asks: Why did he choose to drink that cup? He chose to drink that cup because beyond all the abandonment he knew he would experience in body and mind in the crucifixion; Jesus had a deep spiritual connection to the one he called ABBA – the Father.  No sense of betrayal could break that trust, no sense of despair could cause him to surrender, no fear could overcome the love he knew.   It was this that made it possible for Jesus to drink the cup as he prayed to the One who called him “my Beloved”.  It was that spiritual sinew, that intimate communion with His Father, that made him hold on to the cup and pray: “My Father, let it be as you, not I, would have it” (Matthew 26:39).

Jesus didn’t throw the cup away in despair.  No, he kept it in his hands, willing to drink it to the dregs.  This was not a show of willpower or determination or heroism.  This was a deep spiritual yes to ABBA, the lover of his wounded heart.

When we contemplate the sorrow and suffering that we see in our world, in our community, and even in our lives, we recognize that many people in many places live with their sorrow and suffering unaware that there is any hope or any consolation for them. They struggle to find hope and light because there is no one to see them and love them.

But there is consolation in the midst of sorrows, there is hope in the midst of suffering.  From where does that hope and consolation come? It comes from the people of God, each of us who have lifted the cup of our own lives and have found in the midst of our personal suffering and sorrow, hope and consolation through the love of our God our Saviour and those who walk this path with us.

In the midst of Jesus’ anguished prayer asking God to take his cup of sorrow away, there is a moment of consolation and hope. Luke records that “an angel appeared to him, coming from heaven to give him strength.” (Luke 22:43)

In the midst of sorrow is consolation, in the midst of darkness is light, in the midst of despair there is hope; and so, the cup of sorrow is also the cup of joy. We need to see both before we can even take a sip.

Next week: Holding the Cup – the Cup of Joy

AMEN