A friend recently shared a link with me on Facebook. Sharing links on Facebook, in and of itself, is hardly a rare occurrence. But this particular sharing by this particular person ventured beyond the typical family photo album or song-o-the-day or beautiful blog page. My young friend, Charlie, is a married law student, quite cerebral, given to old-fashioned-martini-dry humor, the son of an Earth Diva (sounds like an oath, huh?) and contributes to the excellent existence of an online/print magazine called Fare Forward, A Christian Review of Ideas. You'll be challenged and pleased with the content, regardless of your religious affiliation, if you enjoy philosophy, believe in the sharing of ideas and abhor stagnation of the mind.
But that's rather beside the point of this entry. It's just that Charlie and his cohorts deserved a nod. So, after reading me, go check them out! 'Like' them on Facebook, too, and up their head count.
Anyhow, the link was an article. Specifically this essay, Espresso & The Meaning of Life: Embracing Reality Through Everyday Liturgies. He had me at espresso. But though I'd heard the word often, 'liturgy' was not a familiar concept. And what did come to mind involved specific religions and practices not associated with anything within my personal experience. My online dictionary hunt revealed a similar association: 1) a form of public worship; ritual./ 2) a collection of formularies for public worship./ 3) a particular arrangement of services./ 4) a particular form or type of the Eucharistic service./ and, 5) the service of the Eucharist, especially this service (Divine Liturgy) in the Eastern Church.
The opening dealt with this view that the modern generation is bored to death, so to speak, and thus busies itself with entertainment and work and this-that-and-the-other to keep this boredom at bay. Further, he cites a current 'collective existential crisis' which permeates so much of society at large: people 'living disconnected from and unfulfilled by reality, despite being the busiest people in history and having a limitless supply of of entertainment at our fingertips.' I don't believe Charlie was suggesting I fell into this segment of humanity. Boredom or lack of purpose don't figure into my life; an overload of busy, however, often does. I do, however, agree with the overall summation. For many, it's as if we are a people without a cause, insulated as we are from war and poverty and the need to unite beyond the comfort of our personal borders. And a great deal of the escapes in which we immerse ourselves allow a deep disconnect from our spiritual core.
Where the essay really picked up for me was in the filling of this meaty word sandwich. The author introduced his concept of liturgy in the sense of worship and ritual as a means of sidestepping all of the busy, the distraction, the fluffy nonsense in so much of our days and nights. An intentional way to infuse what could be a drab moment with bright color, resulting in the SUFfusion of meaning. Have I lost you yet? Let me clarify. His example centers around the process of making his morning cup of espresso by manual means, from start to clean-up, filling 20 minutes with purposeful activity, instead of relying on a coffee maker or Starbucks to do the job.
In his words, "
liturgical practices are performed not for some external end, but simply for the good of the practice itself, they remind us that human activity is inherently meaningful, that our lives have value over and above the values we choose to assign to them. I take twenty minutes to make espresso not because it kills time or distracts me, and not even because it keeps me awake for my morning meetings. I make espresso because I love it, because it is my way of engaging with and celebrating the goodness of God’s created reality in the here and now. By involving ourselves in liturgy, we realize and express the richness of the present moment. We say no to boredom, and no to nihilism, through our engagement with the ritual before us." (I intentionally left out his many references to nihilism in this essay to streamline and simplify for my purposes. Feel free to read and research as you wish.)
That there is beautiful stuff. Solid writing. Rife with meaning for me. Though I don't exhort my faith in my blogs -- my writing reflects my ongoing desire to build on my faith and practice my Christian beliefs but the blogs themselves are not specifically tailored to expand on the subject of Christianity -- I am a practicing, growing, stumbling follower of Christ. There are plenty of better examples of His grace, strength and oneness with His Holy Father than me, for sure. I'm not a schooled theologian. I'm no expert. I don't profess to offer sound religious advice. But I love my Lord. And I don't believe that higher learning and intelligence negate a belief in a higher power. Nor do they preclude an acceptance of Christ as the son of God. But that's neither here nor there.
What is here, and out there, is a belief that everything of this world is known by my God. Created and allowed to exist by God. Thought, feeling, nature, technology, architecture, humanity, the animal kingdom at large, including spiders (which I admire but many fear), and definitely espresso (I totally admire). Further, my existence in the midst of all of this is intentional: I have been placed. Therefore, battle of good and evil aside, one of my directives must be to acknowledge this 'everything' with all of my senses, within the time constraints set upon me by this physical body, within this physical world. My senses are to be engaged. My mind contemplative. My heart feeling. My spirit open. And as small as I am in the grand scheme of things, tackling such a directive is easier done in bites as opposed to swallowing it all whole.
Television, the Internet, phone calls, loads of laundry, countless mundane tasks I perform without clear memory of what I wholly completed in a given day, it can all crowd in and push out that directive. I'd be lying if I claimed that didn't happen with me. But I consciously try to rally hard against that force of busy and distraction. And it's quite nice to now have a nifty language label for that rallying: 'everyday liturgy.'
I tried the espresso-at-home thing, especially after watching my mom in her morning ritual of black gold brewing, but quickly realized it stressed me more than soothed. The noise. The heat. The trouble I always end up having with kitchen machines. I do, however, enjoy the drawn-out process of making my low-acid, twenty-four-hour, Rwandan-origin coffee concentrate. The silken texture of pulverized beans against my fingertips; the rich swirl of aroma as the purified water hits the grounds in my French Press; the soft sound of the plunger separating the depleted solids from the dense liquid; the rich amber beauty of the oil-slicked brew settled invitingly within the clear confines of a quart-sized Mason jar; and, the bright notes of soil and citrus which excite my palate each and every morning. Just one example of how I practice fully living, and thus totally appreciating, the simplest of things in my daily life. And how many of us drink coffee, or even tea, every single day? More than once a day? Opportunity abounds to amplify the idea that we can 100% engage in reality, and thus celebrate all aspects of creation while fully existing in the moment.
Plenty of other examples come to mind. My intentional habit of taking pictures during my walks, thereby admonishing myself not to just hurry along, missing all that surrounds me, in my efforts to stay fit . My proclivity for recipes which require steps and consideration, thus ensuring I am reminded of what goes into a crunchy bite of biscotti or a mouthful of roasted vegetable salad. My enjoyment in cleaning the dog's ears, brushing his teeth and coat, trimming his nails, bathing his reluctant self, rubbing his belly, each action tying me to continued care for the living even as my children hurry up and grow up. My meticulous packing of lunch for the man who has blessed my life with his work ethic, humor and willingness to let me be all me, allowing me the honor of recognizing his everyday life of minutes and hours. Some days I'm more in the moment than others with these basic liturgies, but I perpetuate their practice, and move along in the motions, knowing they validate the minutes they inhabit. Minutes which add up to a life of Holy validation, minutiae in the mass of life, but incredibly important all the same. And I could go on, but must I pound you over the head with the hammer I now hold up for inspection? Unless you are one of the fruit of my womb and yet in high school, I think not.
You see? How many times must I point out how useful Facebook is?! Three degrees of separation from posted link to professed faith.
