The name "Take This Cup" is on a list of names thought up during a period in my twenties when my dream seemed to be to have a coffee shop where I could wear a nun's habit and sing hymns while pulling espresso shots all day. The dream has changed somewhat, but the name has taken a deeper level of meaning, as things tend to do when we work our ways closer to reality over the years.
I'm enjoying leaving Take This Cup somewhat open to interpretation, even to myself. Sometimes I see an Abbie Hoffman-esque message of anti-capitalism, a cup already taken. Sometimes I see a priest offering the Eucharist. Mostly I see a message of giving and mystery; possibly the best two things in the human experience.
Tonight I did a Google search of the three words to check if there was another business whose toes I would be stepping on by taking the name. I was surprised that all of the scriptural references that came up were focused on Jesus' words in prayer just before his crucifixion, asking God to "take this cup" of suffering away.
I don't know what I think about Jesus or words in the Bible, or even cups for that matter. Sometimes they chip or spill. They can let you down. I've had some favorites, but I haven't found the perfect one yet.
Take this cup of suffering away, he says. But not my will but yours be done.
The truth is that in some dark moments lately I have felt like I'm at the bottom of a pit and the only way out is to force this coffee dream to come true. I'm absolutely amazed at the support that I've gotten from friends and family. I'm amazed by the love that surrounds me, even when I'm in the bottom of a pit.
That's my current cup maybe, a little bit of sour suffering. Not crucifixion, but being fired, being dumped, and feeling like a failure. Pretty bad.
I want this. I want it for myself so much. I want to run my own numbers and never let a boss control my life again. And I want to make all kinds of dollars and have a lovely time. But not my will but the will of love in the world. Take this that I have to offer. It's partly from love, partly from purity, partly from bitter selfishness and greed. Take and drink. This is my livelihood, given for you.
Given for you and also for your three dollars. But given for you.
