Trading Corn Husks for Prime Rib

Melissa Hatfield —  March 24, 2013 — Leave a comment

* This is the sermon I was to deliver today as part of our series entitled “Meal Times: Going Deeper with God and Others”. However, the weather decided to bless us with one last hurrah of snow and prevented us from gathering together physically. But snow cannot stop the gathering of the hearts and spirits of the Church. May you lift your palms this Palm Sunday in adoration of the One who loves us with an extravagant love.

Based on Luke 15:11-32.

prodigal-son (1)I’ve really not understood terror until I became an aunt. There are a lot of ways you could take that statement so let me explain. We often go out in public with the kids. That’s still not the terror part. The terror part comes when we are in the masses and all of the sudden I can’t find my niece or nephew.  A second ago, they were strangling my right leg. Now – they’ve vanished into a sea of tall, multiplying adults who suddenly look crazy and suspect. My heart begins to race, my stomach drops to the floor and every possible and impossible, horrible scenario runs through my mind. I start walking like I own a mall and panic starts to rise up in me as a scour the crowd for the little needle in the haystack that is my love.

And then, I see them. I see them mesmerized by some colorful toy or scene that drew them away from me. And all that I think and feel is relief. They are found.

I simply can’t imagine what kind of anguish one must experience when a child is really gone. But in these experiences where I lose them temporarily, I experience a small taste of it and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to bring them back to the safety of my presence.

I’ve always thought one of the most vulnerable, bravest things you can do is be a parent. An adoring aunt comes pretty close but it still isn’t the same. It is incredibly vulnerable to have a child. It is a weird feeling to see your heart walking around outside your body but that is what happens as a parent. And when you are a child, you think your parents are the strongest people in the world but parents know that the strongest love is also the most fragile, vulnerable love.

Pastor Nadia Bolz Weber posed this question recently on her blog. “There is so much talk out there about the strength of God and the mightiness of God and the awesomeness of God. But what of the vulnerability of God?”

Our God is strong and mighty and awesome. Our God is a Creator and a Parent. God has the strongest love possible for His children. Perhaps then, God also knows something about vulnerability. And I agree with Weber that it seems that the parable of the lost son is Jesus’s attempt at helping us understand the vulnerable love of God.  Continue Reading…

In Faith , , , ,
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Love-Crazy Father

Melissa Hatfield —  March 21, 2013 — 1 Comment
Rembrandt's "Return of the Prodigal Son"

Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son”

This Sunday I’m preaching on the story of the Prodigal Son (or as I prefer to call it – The Story of the Love-Crazy Father). It was the assigned text for this Sunday and also happens to be my favorite parable told by Jesus.

For most of my life, I focused predominately on the prodigal son. Because I get him. I am him. Most of my faith journey with God has consisted of me sneaking back to the pig pen to stay the night because I feel like that is where I deserve to sleep and exist. I felt so unworthy of the outrageous love of my Father and the lavished banquet He wants to throw for me. I thought that my big brother was right to be mad that I didn’t get justice but rather mercy. But now I know that the love crazy Father is the heart of the story.

It is really only recently that God has convinced me that I actually hurt Him by my refusal to receive His love. God weeps over us when shame and self-hatred immobilize us. God is the father who ran to His lost son when he came limping home. God is the one who interrupts our lame apology speeches in order to get the celebration started.

Oddly, it is because I love Him so much and can’t stand to hurt Him that I was willing to try receiving His love without pity or pride. To learn to enjoy Him and His extravagant love.

Like the confused and self-hating son, I’ve thought my restoration will come in my repentance. But restoration is only found in love – sincere acceptance of God’s overwhelming, foolish, unexplainable, unmeasurable love. Running into the embrace of our merciful Father who has been pacing on the road waiting for us to come home is the ultimate finish line. Believing that the minute the Father saw us limping home, His joy at our return erases every pain from our earlier departure is the beginning of our new life with Him.

God has never asked or wanted me to earn His love. It is laughable to even think it is possible. But beyond laughable, it is hurtful to Him whose only desire is to love us with a crazy, over-the-top love. If my niece or nephew held my love at bay because they didn’t think they deserved it, it would crush me.  If a friend didn’t let me love on him or her with small, unexpected surprises, it steals from me. God’s lavish love has nothing to do with my worth but everything to do with His love. His only desire is for us to receive His love and live out of that great love. Our restoration and the restoration of others will follow.

Repentance is an expression of gratitude rather than an effort to earn forgiveness. Thus the sequence of forgiveness and then repentance, rather than repentance and then forgiveness, is crucial for understanding the gospel of grace. (Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel, 75.)

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Just Around the Bend

Melissa Hatfield —  March 20, 2013 — Leave a comment
The Giant Mechanical Man

The Giant Mechanical Man

I recently watched this great little film called The Giant Mechanical Man. Haven’t heard of it? Not surprising since it opened in only one theatre in May 2012 and grossed just over $5,000 opening weekend. Definitely not a blockbuster but I like little, quirky films and this one has a fantastic story about life and love and risk.

Stories are simply this: a character that wants something and overcomes conflict to get it. Donald Miller taught me that.  If you think about your favorite character in a movie or book, most likely, he or she wanted something really bad and overcame conflict to get it.

One of the most frustrating things in movies or books for me is when a character faces a conflict and starts to give up. As the audience, usually you are privy to the bigger picture. You have a front row seat to what is really happening and can see just around the bend. Nothing pains me more than seeing a character make it to the corner, run into a road block and then, lose faith. I want to reach into the book or through the screen to encourage or maybe shake them – begging them to keep on going.  To just say, “Listen. He likes you and you like him. So stop making this more difficult than it needs to be.” or “You’re so going to get the job! Just sing the song. They’re going to love you!” or “What you so desperately want is just around the bend! Keep going! You’ve got this!”.

Most of the time, the roadblock at the corner is vulnerability. If just one of the characters in a romance would let down their guard, the relationship could move forward. If a individual could take that one step just past the moment of fear, then he would find success. If she’d really trust God to lead, she’d find peace beyond her understanding.  As the audience, you can see it so clearly and that gives you the courage to yell in frustration at their cowardliness (and, subconsciously, at our own cowardliness.)

Obviously, we don’t have the luxury of this perspective in our own life. It is why only hindsight is 20/20. We can’t see what is going to happen with certainty. The only thing that is certain is that if we refuse to take some risks, we’ll miss some dreams, too.  As hockey legend Wayne Gretsky, said,

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

I wonder in my life how close I’ve been to some of these defining moments.  If my life is a movie, where are the times in my life that I was at the corner and the audience was screaming for me to keep going yet I quit in the face of vulnerability. I wonder what they are saying to me now. 

Have you ever been to the corner? Did you keep on going or do you feel like you quit? What are some shots you took that you’re really grateful you did – even if the outcome wasn’t what you thought it would be?

In My Life
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