It was a box that could only have come from a shop overflowing with decades of “I may need that someday.” It’s not a bad mindset to have if we are going to learn to caretake our only planet a little better than we have in the past. Reduce, reuse, and recycle has become the mantra of younger and wiser generations who have inherited a boat load of problems foisted on them by us.

What kept me from throwing the box away, however, was not social conscience but rather curiosity. A sparkle of glass at the bottom of the box of junk teased the eye. Working my hand down inside the box and under containers of small screws and fittings resulted in something totally unexpected, yet easily recognized. In this myriad of boxes being sorted were two small undamaged and intact communion tray cups.

How on God’s green earth were they hiding out in an old box, unbroken to boot? It was a mystery that is not entirely reconciled. The most likely explanation is that they were part of a woodworking project utilizing cup holders from a seminary chapel some years ago. It matters not the source, only the circumstance of their reappearance.

Theologically, they could serve as a reminder of finding Christ in the unlikeliest of places… in places we visit like our churches, neighborhoods and homes. They symbolize the bread and cup that has such deep meaning for many, no matter the setting. They prompt us to consider adding more chairs to the table in order to partake in the Eucharist, a celebration of invitation, commitment and hope. What was found dirty, dusty, and discarded emerges breathtakingly new once more, vibrant in faith, alive in deed and strikingly relevant to the world of today.

It’s a fact that this past year has changed the face of how we do church. For some, it was a bell tolling the demise of many small churches. For others, it was a time of fearless determination in coming together, in person or at a distance, so that community not only remained intact but was strengthened. It has been a time of questioning and engaging conversation as we catch glimpses of Jesus in the neighborhood instead of residing full time in the church.

What does that suggest for the future of Christendom? Having conversations early and often regarding the future church is a helpful, very necessary step. Where fear dissipates, a new courage emerges. What is the soul of this church we are so concerned over? It is derivative, extrapolated from church leadership down to the very least among us. It is a reflection of who we are as well as a testament to the Kingdom of God artfully embodied by compassion at its core.

When you next rummage around in old boxes destined for the trash heap, keep an eye out for the glint of something special, wonderful, unexpected. Something that speaks to you unequivocally of your own faith and understanding, something that brings you closer to the ideals Christ set before us. When you’ve gone as far as you can challenging yourself, take it into your community in order to balance and weigh its import. Work toward an understanding but then let it ‘settle’ for a time as our Quaker friends might encourage.

Don’t be surprised to discover communion cups of your own to spur faithfulness and growth. Sometimes they even look like regular old coffee cups. Both have their place.