The Ambassador's Plate

The underside tells me the elegant plate is Limoge. Rimmed with gold, it bears the state seal of a Gulf nation. On it a lop-sided chocolate cake that drools with icing and sprinkled M&Ms. A joyous thing, a gift from the housemaids in 1701. These Filipinas are Christian, and far from home. We don’t know them, but a believing security guard assured them of welcome at our table on Christmas Day. We were delighted, but word came that they were refused time off for this feast of their faith. They stopped in with the cake on Christmas afternoon. Baked it and snuck it out while the Ambassador was away. Didn’t stay long lest he return and find them absent.

It is the day after Christmas. The cake half-eaten reveals the fancy plate, and I examine it and wonder how to get it back to them without getting them in trouble.

The doorbell rings and there they stand, all smiles. “We need the plate!” I laugh. We chat briefly. They worked together in Morocco before UAE. Liked it there. “Abu Dhabi?” “Not so much.”

Liking fleeting angels they are gone, these young believers placed by Jesus in the heart of that state official’s home.

Christmas table

Curt and I traveled during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Were home for just seven fast days before the Christmas feast. No time or head-space for any big plan. We prayed and only a few came to mind to invite.

As we took our places at the table I looked around and marveled. Pawan, Ehab, Naomi, Alfonso and Marli had joined us other years. This year Pawan brought two brothers who also work in UAE. Khadka is a new friend who helps with

housework, and he brought his wife. What joy to serve him for a day, and to sit together and play a game. Mike moved to UAE last summer. Jenn joined our household in October. All these, book-ended by four Bidingers. Nepal, Brazil, Switzerland, Japan and Peru, Jordan, Albania, and the US. A housemaid, a military advisor, a jeweler, a midwife, an urban planner, a security guard, an office boy, an oil guy, teachers and laborers, housewives. Christian, Hindu and Muslim.

Some we invited; some found their way to our table. I say Jesus invited them. I recall His banquet story in Luke 14 where this rich guy invites all the expected guests to a feast and few could be bothered to come. So the host sent to the streets and brought in the people no one would think to invite. Not that our friends had refused our invitation, but I was humbled and awed at the company Jesus chose. People we would never meet to invite in the normal way. Rich fellowship of nations, the essential dignity of all people, and a common invitation to take a place at the table of the Kingdom of God.

Glorious celebration of God come in human flesh!