Tea On The Hard Days

Finding joy in everyday can be difficult, especially when it is a hard day, a sad day and you are left weary. Yesterday, was a hard, sad day. I am called to hold space for others as they process their grief, their fears, their emotions, and figure out where they are at. I love getting to do this and somedays are a little heavier than others. I have not always been very good at naming and honoring my boundaries but I am learning. Yesterday, the only joy I had the energy to share on my social media was a short 3 second video of me dipping a biscuit (digestives/it is a brand of a type of what Americans would call a cookie) into a cup of hot tea (it was very satisfying because you could even see the wisps of steam curling upwards in the video).

It seems small, doesn’t it? If you know me, then you know I love tea. It is what I look forward to every morning. I think a lot about why I so look forward to the weekends and I keep coming back to the image of me drinking my tea leisurely, usually it is multiple cups and I am still in my pjs. It is a sacred, set apart ritual that invites me to slow down and to connect with myself, God and even to others.

It has been a long time since I have had a proper tea and biscuit moment; now reflecting on last night I remember why it is so comforting. Tea and biscuits are one of my favorite forms of communion. While I lived in Scotland and later in England, tea became such a staple in my everyday life. Drinking tea while eating cake, toast with jam, breakfast, or with biscuits was often a communal act—bringing together people I love. Those times together nourished my heart and soul and strengthened me to keep on chugging along especially when things were hard.

It has been a celebratory meal, a comfort food when times were hard, and a familiar ritual that to this day binds me closer to people I love. It gave me life week after week during the summer of 2016, as the world became darker, more hateful, and I felt distanced from God. It was that summer that I realized I had not had Holy Communion and was in desperate need of it. I googled churches and ended up stumbling into St. Andrews Episcopal Church; a sweet and thriving church tucked away in a corner of St. Andrews, Scotland.

The church welcomed me with open arms and hearts. Every Friday and almost every Sunday, I showed up at this church and received Holy Communion. And every Friday and every Sunday that I worshiped and received communion there, I was invited for tea and biscuits afterwards. It was over tea and biscuits I became a part of the community of faith—a second, less formal, but equally as holy, communion.

I never know where the Spirit will lead when I put fingers to keyboard, but today I was surprised I was led to remember and to write about my love of tea and biscuits. I know this is what the Spirit wanted me to remember and for it to nourish me. As I wrote about tea and biscuits and how the simple act of making and drinking tea is sacred to me, I remembered. I remembered all the people who helped make tea sacred for me, I remembered all the many ways cups of tea and tasty snacks have healed me, I remembered what communities of faith have taught me, and those holy memories brought tears of joy and gratitude to my eyes.

I often challenge the people who are under my care to name what they consider sacred for themselves and I tell them those things that are often so sacred to us may or may not be directly linked to religion or religious practices. Tea is sacred to me and it is both directly related to religion/religious practices and not related at all.

So today I ask you: What is sacred to you?

May you have time to engage in it and may that time be blessed by the holiness of love.

Amen.