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Reconciliation
Reconciliation
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s parents
disapproved so strongly of her marriage to Robert that they disowned her.
Almost weekly
Today those love letters are among the
most beautiful in classical English literature. Had her parents opened and read
only a few of them
a reconciliation might have been effected.
The Bible is God’s letter of
reconciliation to us. We should open and read it thoroughly and often. ── Michael
P. Green《Illustrations for Biblical Preaching》
Ministry of Reconciliation
The
Ministry of Reconciliation…
Originates
with God
not man
Is
personally experienced
Is
universally inclusive
Is
without condemnation
Is
delivered by men
Is
owned and accredited by God
Is
voluntarily accepted
Achieves
what otherwise is impossible
Is
experienced moment by moment.— Ray Stedman
The word expiation begins
with the prefix ex
which means "out of" or "from."
Expiation means to remove something. In biblical theology it has to do with
taking away or removing guilt by means of paying a ransom or offering an
atonement. It means to pay the penalty for something. Thus
the act of
expiation removes the problem by paying for it in some way
in order to satisfy
some demand. Christ's expiation of our sin means that He paid the penalty for
it and removed it from consideration against us.
On the other hand
propitiation has to do with the object of the expiation. The prefix in this
case is pro
which means "for." Propitiation has to do with what
brings about a change in God's attitude toward us
so that we are restored to
the fellowship and favor of God. In a sense
propitiation points to God's being
appeased. If I am angry because you have offended me
but you then appease me
the problem will be removed. Thus propitiation brings in the personal element
and stresses that God is no longer angry with us. Propitiation is the result of
expiation. The expiation is the act that results in God's changing His attitude
toward us. Expiation is what Christ did on the cross. The result of Christ's
act of expiation is that God is propitiated. It is the difference between the
ransom that is paid and the attitude of the One receiving the ransom.
Tabletalk
June 13
1990.
One New Year's Eve at
London's Garrick Club
British dramatist Frederick Lonsdale was asked by Symour
Hicks to reconcile with a fellow member. The two had quarreled in the past and
never restored their friendship. "You must
" Hicks said to Lonsdale.
"It is very unkind to be unfriendly at such a time. Go over now and wish
him a happy New Year."
So Lonsdale crossed the
room and spoke to his enemy. "I wish you a happy New Year
" he said
"but only one."
Today in the Word
July 5
1993.
Shortly after the turn of
the century
Japan invaded
conquered
and occupied Korea. Of all of their
oppressors
Japan was the most ruthless. They overwhelmed the Koreans with a
brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. Their crimes against women
and children were inhuman. Many Koreans live today with the physical and
emotional scars from the Japanese occupation.
One group singled out for
concentrated oppression was the Christians. When the Japanese army overpowered
Korea one of the first things they did was board up the evangelical churches
and eject most foreign missionaries. It has always fascinated me how people
fail to learn from history. Conquering nations have consistently felt that
shutting up churches would shut down Christianity. It didn't work in Rome when
the church was established
and it hasn't worked since. Yet somehow the
Japanese thought they would have a different success record.
The conquerors started by
refusing to allow churches to meet and jailing many of the key Christian spokesmen.
The oppression intensified as the Japanese military increased its profile in
the South Pacific. The "Land of the Rising Sum" spread its influence
through a reign of savage brutality. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed
-- and kindled hatred deep in their souls.
One pastor persistently
entreated his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services.
His nagging was finally accommodated
and the police chief offered to unlock
his church ... for one meeting. It didn't take long for word to travel.
Committed Christians starving for an opportunity for unhindered worship quickly
made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday
Korean families
throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes
of their Japanese captors
but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they
closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression and shut in
a burning spirit anxious to glorify their Lord.
The Korean church has
always had a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not
be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang
through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. For a handful of
peasants listening nearby
the last two songs this congregation sang seemed
suspended in time. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee"
that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people
toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors
but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they
smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited.
Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on
the interior walls. There was an immediate rush for the windows. But momentary
hope recoiled in horror as the men climbing out the windows came crashing back
in -- their bodies ripped by a hail of bullets.
The good pastor knew it
was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence
he led his congregation in
a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving
salutation to heaven. The first few words were all the prompting the terrified
worshipers needed. With smoke burning their eyes
they instantly joined as one
to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the
horrified and helpless witnesses outside. Their words also tugged at the hearts
of the cruel men who oversaw this flaming execution of the innocent.
Alas! and did my Savior
bleed?
and did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that
sacred head
for such a worm as I?
Just before the roof
collapsed they sang the last verse
their words an eternal
testimony to their faith.
But drops of grief can
ne'er repay
the debt of love I owe:
Here
Lord
I give myself
away
'Tis all that I can do!
At the cross
at the cross
Where I first saw the
light
And the burden of my heart
rolled away --
It was there by faith I
received my sight
And now I am happy all the
day.
The strains of music and
wails of children were lost in a roar of flames. The elements that once formed
bone and flesh mixed with the smoke and dissipated into the air. The bodies
that once housed life fused with the charred rubble of a building that once
housed a church. But the souls who left singing finished their chorus in the
throne room of God. Clearing the incinerated remains was the easy part. Erasing
the hate would take decades. For some of the relatives of the victims
this
carnage was too much. Evil had stooped to a new low
and there seemed to be no
way to curb their bitter loathing of the Japanese.
In the decades that
followed
that bitterness was passed on to a new generation. The Japanese
although conquered
remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at
the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died
but stood
as a mute reminder of their pain.
Inner rest? How could rest
coexist with a bitterness deep as marrow in the bones? Suffering
of course
is
a part of life. People hurt people. Almost all of us have experienced it at
some time. Maybe you felt it when you came home to find that your spouse had
abandoned you
or when your integrity was destroyed by a series of well-timed
lies
or when your company was bled dry by a partner. It kills you inside. Bitterness
clamps down on your soul like iron shackles.
The Korean people who
found it too hard to forgive could not enjoy the "peace that passes all
understanding." Hatred choked their joy.
It wasn't until 1972 that
any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon
the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the
spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished
they were overcome with shame.
Their country had sinned
and even though none of them were personally involved
(some were not even born at the time of the tragedy)
they still felt a
national guilt that could not be excused. They returned to Japan committed to
right a wrong. There was an immediate outpouring of love from their fellow
believers. They raised ten million yen ($25
000). The money was transferred
through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on
the sight of the tragedy. When the dedication service for the new building was
held
a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests.
Although their generosity
was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated
the memories
were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts
fresh. The Koreans' bitterness had festered for decades. Christian brothers or
not
these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy. The speeches were
made
the details of the tragedy recalled
and the names of the dead honored.
It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda
thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same two songs that were
sung the day the church was burned. The song leader began the words to
"Nearer My God to Thee."
But something remarkable
happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the
past mixed with the truth of the song
resistance started to melt. The
inspiration that gave hope to a doomed collection of churchgoers in a past
generation gave hope once more. The song leader closed the service with the
hymn "At the Cross." The normally stoic Japanese could not contain
themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly
gushed from deep inside. They turned to their Korean spiritual relatives and
begged them to forgive. The guarded
calloused hearts of the Koreans were not
quick to surrender. But the love of the Japanese believers --not intimidated by
decades of hatred -- tore at the Koreans' emotions.
At the cross
at the cross
Where I first saw the
light
And the burden of my heart
rolled away ...
One Korean turned toward a
Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of
emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They
clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of
forgiveness intermingled to bathe the site of an old nightmare. Heaven had sent
the gift of reconciliation to a little white church in Korea.
Tim Kimmel
Little
House on the Freeway
p. 56-61.
A childhood accident caused
poet Elizabeth Barrett to lead a life of semi-invalidism before she married
Robert Browning in 1846. There's more to the story. In her youth
Elizabeth had
been watched over by her tyrannical father. When she and Robert were married
their wedding was held in secret because of her father's disapproval. After the
wedding the Brownings sailed for Italy
where they lived for the rest of their
lives. But even though her parents had disowned her
Elizabeth never gave up on
the relationship. Almost weekly she wrote them letters. Not once did they
reply. After 10 years
she received a large box in the mail. Inside
Elizabeth
found all of her letters; not one had been opened! Today those letters are
among the most beautiful in classical English literature. Had her parents only
read a few of them
their relationship with Elizabeth might have been
restored.
Daily Walk
May 30
1992.
For the sake of each of us
he laid down his life--worth no less than the universe. He demands of us in
return our lives for the sake of each other.
St. Clement of Alexandria.
The Civil War was carnage.
Then Jefferson Davis of the Confederacy died. And Ulysses Grant of the Union
died. Their widows
Varina Davis and Julia Grant
settled near each other. They
became closest of friends.
Source Unknown.