Biryani & Babies

There are times you may be asked to do something out of your comfort zone. Like attending a baby shower of a friend from another religion.

Yesterday, we found ourselves invited to a family celebration. We were the minority on several levels. We were the Christian family with the white husband, the brown wife and the beige children. I try my best to prepare for such events. I have some experience as the daughter of Indian parents, who are now long term citizens of this land. I have attended Indian gatherings in the past, attired in my salwar kameez. I've dusted off my rusty Hindi/Urdu and attempted a few conversations. I've smiled and nodded and indulged in tandoori chicken and gulab jamuns. Yet, in spite of all the ways I had the appearance of belonging, I was giggling inside. While slightly trembling with fright... I so did not fit in.

Last night was no exception. (Though as I've aged, I don't tremble as much anymore.)

At the whole family baby shower (as opposed to the Caucasian "women-only" baby showers with the games and advice), I found it fascinating to analyse the situation as a outsider. I was by far the most simply dressed among the women, with my modest burgundy salwar kameez and basic make-up. The only jewelry I wore were the silver drop earrings I've been permanently wearing for months. I made sure you two kids were in "church attire". Your Daddy was informed (by me) to dress like he was going to work. So we looked formal, but not extravagant.

The women were absolutely delighted to be in each other's presence. Since our city is small, this community is even smaller. I felt like I was entering the world of close girl friends, with some matriarchal elders in the group. There were giggles, comments on how beautiful each looked in their sparkly splendor, observations on family size and how you should have at least three children (oh well). They reminisced about their respective homelands, their travels. Religious phrases rolled off their tongues, just like our Christian phrases of "Praise God" and "Lord Willing". And while the ladies huddled around one table enjoying the food and fellowship, the children ran and romped around, sneaking chocolates and candies. The control freak in me was losing it. The chameleon in me whispered, "Just roll with it."

The men had their own gathering. Your Daddy bravely joined the men as multiple languages flowed around him. Thankfully, your Daddy connected with our friends' adult nephew. They talked about cultures and countries. Your Daddy survived the spicy biryani and truly had a good time.

I was honored by how this community went our of their way to a make us feel comfortable. At one moment, a woman commented that she has never seen me in the city, even though we have lived here for almost five years. I smiled sheepishly, and stumbled out, "Well, I'm... Christian." Somehow, I thought, that should kind of explain it. "And... I stay at home a lot...?" Immediately, several woman piped up at once, consoling me that it didn't matter if I was Christian or not and they were not implying anything by their query. I completely understood and smiled while thinking to myself, Truly, I hardly hang out with people of South Asian descent. Almost all of my friends are Caucasian. Hey -- I married a Caucasian! Caucasians are my comfort zone.

So, here is the challenge, the conundrum, the impossibility. If this group is a minority in our community, then people like me, who have Indian ethnicity and choose to follow Christ are even more rare (I think I know of only one other person like me). So why in the world would anyone EVER want to follow Christ if it meant letting go of the only community they feel comfortable with and joining a Caucasian dominated religion? It is simply irrational and ludicrous!

Kids, your Great-Great-Nana was the first individual in his family to follow Christ. He left the dominant religion and converted to Christianity. The cost was huge: he was ostracized by his family. And while the support of missionaries encouraged his spirit, he lost part of who he was to become someone entirely different. Why? Because he found the TRUTH through the conviction of the Holy Spirit. And the truth was so compelling, it warranted following. In spite of the sacrifice. In spite of the loss. Because the truth found in the Gospel of Jesus Christ -- all the love, grace and forgiveness -- was worth the radical shift in living now and the assurance of eternal life later.

While such a change is highly improbably, it isn't entirely impossible. Nothing is impossible with God. Nothing. He is the one who will draw people to Himself, at the right time, at the right place. Our job as Christ followers is to love extravagantly those He leads us to. And speak the truth -- when the Holy Spirit leads -- with gentleness and grace.