The invitation to a favourite Abu Dhabi restaurant with its Mediterranean cuisine left me hungry. On the day, as the main dish arrived, I wrestled with intense expectations. As I savoured the first bite, I enjoyed everything about the fresh flavours, textures, and mysterious ways the dish created an extraordinary experience within me. I could also hear life whispering.
Ingredients are available for any and everyone. Each ingredient in the dish could be found and purchased somewhere in Abu Dhabi. The basil was grown locally. Spices were sourced from around the world. Pasta was made in Italy. As building blocks, everything had begun before there were any plans from the chef or a table reservation.
Kitchen staff were preparing for the meal without awareness of our table. The chef and staff had worked together to take the menu ideas to a detailed plan which they could execute. As artful as the recipe and style of cooking are, the team worked on it with the hope that diners would come, order, and experience what they would deliver. The schedule is laid out in advance. The excellence, consistency, and discipline of the kitchen, service, and management were in place. Their collective work came together to form an invitation open to all who would accept.
Even if I had understood the ingredients to buy as well as the techniques required to create the dish, I had no chance of replicating the dish I was enjoying. The balanced flavours, texture contrasts, and presentation took me to a state of blissful happiness.
As I enjoyed, I found myself understanding Paul’s words differently. “Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn’t, and doesn’t, wait for us to get ready. He presented himself for this sacrificial death when we were far too weak and rebellious to do anything to get ourselves ready. And even if we hadn’t been so weak, we wouldn’t have known what to do anyway.” (Romans 5.6)
Each faith system uniquely prepares a view of Divinity. In accepting the invitation, we experience something greater than ourselves.
