Eucharistic tea

In his lovely book of meditations on art, New York City, 9/11, American culture, Japan, and Christianity ( Refractions: A Journey of Faith, Art, and Culture ), Makoto Fujimura tells the story of Sen no Rikyu, “the sixteenth-century tea master who is most responsible for the development of the art of tea.”  Married to one of Francis Xavier’s early converts, Rikyu was deeply impressed when he sent with his wife to a Mass: “This experienced affirmed his vision for tea.  His tea would be an art form: a form of communication equalizing any who took part, shogun or farmer, male or female.  As a cup of green tea was passed, the teahouse would become a place of shalom.”

Initially, Shogun Hideyoshi approved Rikyu’s art, and elevated him, but soon he “realized, quite correctly, that the egalitarian nature of tea would be dangerous to his power, and he became, by no coincidence, one of the greatest enemies of Christianity in history, ordering the execution of thousands of believers and closing Japan to foreigners for several centuries.  He ordered Rikyu to commit seppuku, the most cruel art form of suicide, at the very teahouse of Shalom.”

Rikyu never professed Christianity, but his life was driven by the Eucharist: A shared cup, and a “martyr’s” death.