I was kind of perturbed. My cup is really big, and I had planned ahead by bringing it. I'm not a gulper. I drink my tea. I enjoy it. And so I brought my tall red cup, so familiar to those that know me, so that i could drink it throughout the morning. And it had a lid. I'm not a spiller but am cautious.
I was thinking ahead.
But here, I was denied. I mourned for my tea, but knew that I should probably not argue or rock the boat. Perturbed, but not weighed down. Its just a cup of tea. A really good, well-looked forward to cup of Early grey with milk and just the right amount of vanilla. So, I put my tall red cup on the table outside of the chapel, and went inside.
When I came back out after the first session, I was ready for my cup. But where my cup was had been replaced by a tablecloth, and cookies and coffee pot and cups and plates and donut holes... Where was my cup?
I turned to the usher, who seemed to have been waiting for me:
"Don't worry, your cup is right here."
and she pointed at the really old antique desk that sits just outside the chapel.
It took me really by surprise. I almost want to say incredulous. My tea was barred from the chapel to make sure the chapel stayed nice looking, I'm assuming. But no one cared about the antique desk that sat with the antique Bible and the antique glass lamp that sat on it.
It seemed weird to me that they were willing to protect the carpet of the chapel on one side, but not the desk. What makes the chapel space more valuable than where someone may have studied the Word, preparing for their sermon, or just doing daily life? Maybe they were so concerned about following one rule that they could not recognize the value of something outside of their domain.
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