a dirty, chipped cup

A DIRTY, CHIPPED CUP

                The king entered the banquet hall and surveyed the room, examining the tables, the ornate service settings that decorated some of them that took the front of the room.  They had matching, fine china, crystal stemware, golden flatware.  Fine candlestick holders held elegant tapers aglow at their centers.  “He will grace US, surely, with his touch,” beamed the settings.

                But, to the side, in the kitchen, the servants’ dining room, there were wooden bowls and spoons, stained and well-worn.  And with them were clay tankards, chipped, but useful.  Not allowed in the main hall, but arranged for the lowly to have a place during the festivities, they quietly held their place.

                Confused, aristocratic, privileged eyes followed Him as he walked past them, smiling, but focused on the hidden, forgotten side room.  And, the dirty, chipped cup was confused and astounded as He raised it, toasting the room!  “Me?!”

 

                “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.” (2Cor.4:7)

Maybe we should re-do the old ditty?

“I’m a little teacup, short and stout.

Here is my handle; just try my draught!

I’m not all that special; yes, that’s true.

But, give Him a shot; and see what He’ll do!

Jesus is a mouthful, two hundred stout.

This is the Spirit that really makes you shout!”