RESET

Welcome to RESET (D'Vine style)!! My name is Rachel, and my calling is food :) I've never been much of a writer, but I wanted to share some "food for thought" about our journey so far (get it? food for thought? haha). Prepare yourself--that awful pun was just the beginning.

Aaron's talk this week included my #1 favorite story from the Bible--The Parable of the Lost Son. But "favorite" isn't really the right word, because it can (and frequently is) used for very trivial things. Like a favorite color, favorite holiday, favorite food... Not bad, but not meaningful either. The Parable of the Lost Son is the one that consistently and irrevocably shakes me; grips my heart and brings me to tears; reminds me of the absurdity of God's love for me. If you heard Aaron's talk, then you know what I mean. The son hurt his father in a very real and lasting way--he took his inheritance before his father was dead, and threw it away as if it were meaningless. As if his father's life and work meant nothing to him. The father in the parable had every right, and every expectation according to custom, to disinherit his son and cut him off from the entire community.

When I stop the story here, it gives me a moment to feel some anguish for the ways and times I've turned from God--to remember that those choices break His heart as well as mine. I move on though, because the story isn't over. The father doesn't just forgive his son. He receives his son in joy, as if there is nothing to forgive. The father doesn't ask the son to start paying back the squandered wealth. The father restores the son, and rejoices over his return. Incredible. A love so powerful, so deep, and so strong, it doesn't just love through the betrayal--it loves away the betrayal.

So you've heard the story. (And if you want to read it for yourself, see Luke 15:11-32). The incredible, powerful, meaningful parable that gives us a glimpse into how much God loves us and longs for us to return to Him. Maybe now the practical voice in your head (don't you all have a voice in your head that asks you questions?) is asking you this: What does it mean for me? What does it mean for the way I live my life? It's important, sure, but why?

I can't tell you why it might be important for you, but I can tell you what it means to me. Imagine for a minute that the son had persisted in his original plan to make amends to his father by earning back what he had lost. From the perspective of the son, it would be impossible (Aaron did the math for us--a day laborer couldn't possibly earn enough money). From the perspective of the father, though--what could be more hurtful except for the son to reject the father's forgiveness and love, and to persist in earning his way back? Is that how God feels when we treat our faith like a to-do list? Like a bunch of obligations that earn us a ticket to heaven? Jesus died for our sins while we were still sinners. Doesn't it seem like it would break his heart if we said "Gee thanks for that, it was real swell of you, but if you don't mind, I think I will keep working to earn my way into your grace"?

So what does that change about the way I live my life? When I remember it, my faith is renewed in joy. I accepted the task of coordinating dinners for RESET NOT because I love cooking. And I do love cooking--but as a slightly obsessive perfectionist, the idea of cooking for so many people was daunting. I accepted the task because it's one way I can pour out to others the love Jesus has for me. He fed people in all kinds of ways, including the practical bread-and-fish, food-in-your-stomach sense. So when I remember (and sometimes I need a reminder), I peel potatoes and sweep floors and wash dishes with joy. Because I'm not sweeping a floor for the sake of sweeping a floor. We're part of the mission, no matter which part, to show Jesus's absurd love to our community. And to feed people.


-Rachel