A Ministry of Reconciliation
Fourth Week of Lent, Year C
Art Piece: "Return of the Prodigal Son" By Elena Murariu
The men and women who serve the church in any sort of capacity — from the person in the pulpit, to those offering compassionate care as they visit the sick, to the caretaker of the property, to the overseer of the congregational budget — all have a call to be stewards of something precious. All are entrusted with the vocation of cultivating and caring for what is most sacred: the witness of the Body of Christ in the world. The Apostle Paul, in that distinctive way he had of giving a name to things which were so mysterious and yet so significant for the life of that Body, spoke in 2 Corinthians 5 of that most sacred trust as a “ministry of reconciliation.” I’m not sure there is any better way to describe what the church is about than those three words.
To be involved in a ministry of reconciliation, whatever role we play, and however we might use our gifts to that end, is to be in the process of telling a story, a story that has its roots in God’s earliest dealings with His people, when He chose Abraham to receive a covenant that would serve to draw God and humanity into relationship with one another in a way that was certainly mysterious, but no less powerful for that fact. God’s inclination toward reconciliation is on display in the book of Joshua, when, after centuries of slavery in Egypt and decades of wilderness wanderings, after a litany of disobediences against the commands of their God, the people are poised to take hold of the land of promise. And in that moment, God renews His covenant; God marks the occasion with a feast; and God says, “Today, I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” God is a God who rolls away our disgrace. This is reconciliation.
The Psalmist understood the pain that comes with being cut off from God, of enduring wilderness wanderings while staying put, simply because he refused to confess his sin and draw near to the God who could liberate him from his spiritual and emotional anguish. But then, he confessed his sins, and found his torment transformed into joy. When he stopped trying to hide, he found in God not only forgiveness, but refuge, security, shouts of gladness. This is reconciliation.
Finally, in the storyscape of Jesus’ parable, we see a young man, wallowing, literally and figuratively, in the mud of disobedience and regret, the distance between him and a life of joy, security, and gladness, the depths to which he has sunk, revealed in the way that he covets the pig food he is charged with doling out. This young man is a long way from the only home where he ever felt safe, and from the only family that ever showed him love, simply because he chose to be. Because he longed for a freedom that he thought would make him happy but has only driven him deeper and deeper into the wilderness of shame. And in that moment, he realizes what he truly wants, more than anything he has ever desired, what he longs for, more than anything he has ever pursued, what will make him happy, more than anything he once believed that money could buy. He wants to be back in the presence of his father. He wants to be back in the home where he felt secure, where he knew who he was, even if that means returning as a servant. Of course, we know how the story ends. He gets what he longs for and so much more, simply because he has the humility to ask for it, and because his father has the grace to welcome him back, not as a servant but as a son. There are shouts of gladness and songs of joy as the father not only forgives but celebrates the opportunity to forgive. This is reconciliation.
And so, we are called to embrace this ministry of reconciliation. Whatever role we serve, we in the church are called to take seriously our calling to bear witness to a God who rolls back our disgrace, a God before whom we can be utterly transparent, a God who welcomes us home not because of our righteousness but because of His love. Like Paul, we are called to be ambassadors of that glorious message of reconciliation, that in Christ Jesus God was reconciling the world to Himself. Not just the upright. Not just the overachievers. Not just those who, like the older brother in the story, stayed home and dutifully did what Dad wanted. Not just the Pharisees and the Teachers of the Law who felt compelled to gatekeep the Kingdom. No, God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them. This is reconciliation.
Thanks be to God.
