When Did We Get 'Spiritual Practice' Stuck?

I am musing on A Simple Country Girl's beautiful teapot and crockery photo. Such a sweet gift in celebration of the little Tea Pilgrimage my girls and I are doing this year.

The photo, quite by accident, ended up with a window-pane shadow on its belly. Unmistakable shape of a cross, on the roundness of promise.

A thought pushes in, a question really, or two... when did we get so 'spiritual practice' stuck that we narrowed our lives down to the cross and not the marvelous round belly of life after it? When did we declare that the Christian life must focus mostly on our sin and failure and penance ('spiritual practice' often seems to be a dressed-up form of penance), rather than celebrate the communion the cross ushered in?

I picture our problem this way... the cross opened a door to a beautiful place (the book of Revelation pictures it as a banqueting place, communion on a grand scale). But we are still busy huddling near the door, wiping our feet on the doormat and worrying about how ill-dressed we are for the occasion. Candles are flickering at the table, china is glimmering and silver is refracting flame, and bread is split open with steam and fragrance rising. But we are stuck at the door.

Maybe the shadow-cross on A Simple Country Girl's teapot was a photographic accident. But I wake thinking it is an invitation to embrace life after the cross, to embrace freedom as simple as a joyful cup of tea (this morning I've tried out a new Creme Earl Grey) and have that be as Christian as a trip to the confessional.