Scotch

It was a mild weeknight evening when he walked into the bar—an establishment of character and thoughtfulness. Their offerings were large and curated.

He chose a Campbeltown 12 year scotch after perusing the lengthy menu. 

“What’s the occasion?” The barmen asked given the type of drink and time of the week.

“I just finished the last class of my master’s degree,” He said with the hint of a satisfied smile.

“What did you study?” The barmen asked, clearly impressed.

“I completed a Master’s of Divinity. A type of pastoral degree.”

The barmen was surprised and uncertain how to proceed in the conversation. He proceeded to pour the drink and pushed it toward the man. 

“Are you new to scotch? It might be hard for you to totally enjoy the drink because of your religion.” His tone betrayed a caricature of understanding about the idea of a pastor but no ill will.

The man observed the glass and then the liquid inside as he raised it to the light. With his eyes closed he smelled the contents. First, with a serious look and then with a rush of happiness of his face.

He looked at the barmen, “No, my friend. In fact, the differences in your and mine enjoyment gives me a touch of sadness. I may enjoy this far more than you will ever be able to. You touch this glass to your lips and taste something good. Something, even, very good. And there you find an end. A glorious moment in the midst of disappointment or perhaps, if you are graced, enjoyable existence. But that is all it is. A moment. 

I touch the glass to my lips and realization floods into my mind as the notes touch my tongue and the aromas overwhelm my nose. I picture the creator behind this dram and I see a reflection of creator God, molding and crafting and protecting this liquid into a creative masterpiece. As he works he is singing, as close as can be, a harmony alongside the great melody. 

The song echoes in this glass and invites me along as it, in a continual build to the great crescendo, marches ever louder, trumpeting the climax and restoration of all that is created. In that day, the creator God will show himself as the restoring God and bring to grandeur all we now hear in only feeble whispers. 

I hear that song in this glass and it is not an end for me but a reminder of hope. And that makes me glad.”

The man took a sip and smiled. “Do you want to hear more?”