Tea, anyone?

When somebody invites you for tea in Japan, they’re not just asking you to come to a regular tea party. I was attracted to the notion of the traditional Japanese tea ceremony, partly because of my respect for the Christian tradition of the Holy Eucharist. Both of them are highly stylized, highly ritualized meals.

There is a common misunderstanding about the Japanese tea ceremony. Some authors, even Japanese authors, find the long, detailed, ceremony abstruse. Yet today, a group of women took us through the Japanese tea ceremony, and it was a delightful experience.

Unlike most tea to which we’re accustomed, the Japanese drink Matcha, which consists of pulverized tea leaves mixed with boiling water. The flavor is very similar to the red tea we usually serve at our tables. However, the consistency is much thicker, about the same as buttermilk.

The use of the hands, the position of the utensils, the location of the serving bowls, all have symbolic significance in the Japanese tea ceremony. Roles of server and guest are highly scripted, with traditional invitations and responses for server and guests memorized. Yet it is very courteous, very quiet—joyful, yet peaceful. It takes time. It cannot be rushed.

Our 34 year-old tour guide told us that although she learned the tea ceremony in high school, she has never performed it at home. In fact, she said that she did not know any of her friends who had done it. “It’s a tradition,” she said, “reserved for old folks.” This may be a tradition which will soon pass out of use.

The last time we were in Kyoto, we participated in the tea ceremony in a Buddhist monastery. One of our shipmates asked the monk conducting the service, “How often do you do this ceremony? Is it just for birthdays, holidays or anniversaries?“

The monk responded, “No, it can be performed anytime. And it should be performed often. You see, the tea ceremony celebrates the fact that this moment is sacred. Never again will this group of people be gathered in this place for this ceremony. Even if we were to assemble the same group of people together for another tea ceremony, it would not be the same. The people would be different. They would have changed—just in the process of living. They will have had new experiences, new trials, maybe a different job or spouse. Even if the same group were assembled in the same room, another tea ceremony would not be the same. The tea ceremony,” he explained, “celebrates the holiness and the uniqueness of this moment in time.”

I’m a fan.

The matron called for a volunteer to come up and prepare the tea after she had shown us how it was done. Shane volunteered me, so I went up and did it. I felt totally lost, but our patient mentors got me through it. I was honored.

So even though you may not know the rules of a formal Japanese tea ceremony, why not invite a friend over for a quiet cup of tea and conversation? Put away the cell phone and the iPad for an hour. Allow no interruptions. BE with your friend. In doing this, you would have accomplished most of the purposes of the ceremony. You would be with another person in quiet, joyful communion. And after all, isn’t that really the best part of life?Les mer