Kin to the Cupbearer

 

The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him. (Genesis 40:23)

 

        Steve was a high school classmate who shared pre-law classes with me when we were university undergraduates. We spent hours in the Great Hall of the library, helping each other memorize names and dates for upcoming tests upon which we imagined our futures to depend. I dropped out of pre-law, but he went on, ultimately becoming a respected judge. At a class reunion I asked if he remembered studying together. He did not. Steve, the cupbearer’s kin, barely even remembered my name.

        Ron was my study partner when I went from pre-law into education. He too was going to be an English teacher, so we sat in that same Great Hall helping each other identify rhyme schemes in Romantic poetry and character development in Russian novels. Ron spent the better part of that year trying to persuade me to join his fraternity. He went on to become a radio news writer and producer. I called to congratulate him when I read of his retirement. He didn’t remember me at all. Ron, the cupbearer’s kin, never heard of me.

         Jon stood in the back hall of his home on a Saturday morning and gently tapped his finger against my chest. “If you want to teach,” he said, “why don’t you teach something that you know is the most important thing in the whole world?” The words struck home with the force of a hammer. It seemed God was speaking out loud to me. About to graduate and embark on a career in education, I knew at that moment that I was going to be a minister—and that I wanted to be a minister. Thirty years later Jon stood in the door of my office in a church in California. I reminded him of that Saturday and his words that had had such a profound effect on me. He passed by them with a shrug. “Sorry, but I don’t remember,” he said. “You were in my home?” Jon too was kin to the cupbearer.

        The same moment is often significant in the memory of one, utterly forgettable to another. God’s whisper can be a shout to one ear, a dull buzz to another. That seems to be for the best. God can use any of us as cupbearers when we are not aware of the impact we have. When self-consciousness is erased from the equation, pride has no footing.

So Katherine called a few weeks ago, recalling some important conversations and occasions we shared while returning from Europe as exchange students long ago. I too am kin to the cupbearer. I had forgotten them. I had forgotten her.

 

Copies of Mike’s book You Are Rich: Finding Faith in Everyday Moments, a collection of sixty faith-related reflections, can be ordered through Amazon or Barnes & Noble.