Reconciliation - Chris Tibbetts

 I saw the entire scene play out.  She was just standing there at the base of the slide pretending to be Princess Leia, when her friend — Darth Vader — took things too far.  He came out of nowhere with his stick lightsaber and the next thing anyone knew, my daughter was on the ground.  Slain by an unsuspected blow from her classmate — her friend — who had gotten a little too much into character.  To be honest, anyone over the age of 30 probably could have seen it coming, once Darth Vader alighted upon such a perfect stick for his lightsaber.  Someone was going to get it.  It just happened to be his friend, my daughter, Princess Leia.  

 

The ensuing tears and offering of reports on the events to the “authorities” had some dramatic flare.  Great attention was given to who was right and who was wrong — Darth Vader emerged as the clear assailant.  Princess Leia made an urgent plea for a bandaid — as if it was a panacea extracted from the sap of a rare tree on a South Pacific island.  Thankfully we had one  available to offer.  It was small and had princesses on it.  Turns out the panacea was equal to its billing.  Once the tears dried up, apologies were offered on both sides, and Leia and Vader reconciled their relationship over a hug.  

 

The simplicity of a children’s skirmish.  The competitiveness of sin urgently bursting through each plaintiff’s pleading of their respective cases — embellishing the events, the offenses, and the intentions of mere moments prior.  The honesty of retreat upon realizing the consequent separation necessitated by their actions.  All eliciting humility, confession, and forgiveness.  The joy of reconciliation displayed through the embrace of children, at least in this case, less hindered by pride and ego than their adult judges.

 

As the year comes to a close and some of us will inevitably look toward things to “work on” in the new year.  We sit this week in a bit of a brief bumper season, between the Christmas holidays that have just passed and the new year that is soon to come.  Perhaps there are those with whom you had hoped to reconcile before or during the Christmas holiday.  Perhaps there are those with whom you will now need to reconcile because of something that happened during the Christmas holiday.  Perhaps you’ve struggled taking initiative to reconcile.  Waiting for the perfect bandaid or humility from the one you perceived to wield the blow.  

 

Unfortunately, there may never be a perfect time to seek or offer forgiveness.  In fact, it’s almost a certainty that there won’t ever be a perfect time.  Yet it seems clear from Christ’s Sermon on the Mount that there should be some degree of urgency on the part of the Christian to go to his brother — even if you are offering your gift at the altar in worship.  God has made us in relationship with one another.  He has given us families, friends, and churches.  He has even structured his church such that we are the body of Christ, complementary in our gifts that Christ will be glorified in our collective ministry and worship, and when each part is working properly, we are made to grow and build the body up in love.  

 

Interestingly, as Jesus speaks on the topic of anger, he seems to make it clear that there should be a sober urgency in the matter of reconciliation.  I say it’s interesting because his context for the discussion is rooted in the sixth commandment.  We should not murder because man is created in the image of God.  And yet, we may choose to delay, avoid, and flee from seeking reconciliation with the brother whom we have wronged.  A brother who is made in that same image.  A brother who is complementary in gifts, whom God has made to help grow and build the body up in love.  

 

This all presumes that both parties are in Christ.  If that is the case, it’s always helpful to remember that you’re on the same team.  Christ and his glory are first in your heart, first in your priorities, first in your goals, your aspirations, and your relationships— if they are not, repent.  And if the other party is not in Christ, your priorities are still the same.  And the urgency about which Christ spoke is made even more palpable, for while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son.  If your accuser has not been reconciled to the Father in Christ, how much more urgent it is that your humility and grace may yet be used as an instrument in that far greater reconciliation.

 

As you ponder the year that is expiring and the year that is to come, may you do so with the perspective and the overwhelming joy of one who has been reconciled in Christ.  May you seek reconciliation with those you have wronged, and may you do so with the simplicity of a child — unfettered by the unnecessary layers of complexity we heap upon situations. May you do so as one whose priorities are driven with an urgency towards Christ and his glory.