The Miracle of Soup

You can tell the winter months are drawing in: there is a large pot of vegetables on my stove simmering slowly and the kitchen is filled with hearty, homely smells as the soup for my lunch slowly takes shape.

I am always amazed how soup comes together. With little thought, planning, minimal (almost derisory) preparation, disparate elements are thrown together and over time they steep, forming something new, something different, something for the soul.

Every time I make a pot of soup, I am amazed by how simple it is. I tell myself: "I must do this more often", those leeks and carrots pulled from our back garden are more use in this pot than left to the frost and the curse of the were-rabbit.

And as I write these words the resonances between making soup and forming ministry also take slow shape. God's work on earth is also comprised of disparate elements: simple things without pretension - a couple of leeks, some carrots, herbs and a few potatoes and sometimes they are thrown together by geography, circumstance or just plain luck. There is little planning involved and, amazingly, it comes together. God is rediscovered in a chance encounter: a moment of prayer in a circle becomes an epiphany and the love of God is felt diffusing through a group as we watch a candle burn towards the end of this week's Advent Course.

We are all just ordinary, simple, everyday beings, but when we come together, then something greater than the whole is apparent. The soul-warming that happens with a good bowl of vegetable soup is also there when God is realised within a praying community. Sometimes we over-reach these simple things with layers of expectation, hype, spin and planning. We have to let the elements come together, simmer for a time, form in themselves and make something special.

Just like that pot of soup, I think "I must do this more often".

It's really easy if I let God do the cooking.