Month: August 2025

God and Sinners Reconciled

Our new friend, learning of  my wife’s love for photographing swans, told us about a lake not far from us. She said the lake has a small fleet of swan-shaped paddle boats you can rent — a cute touch.

So we took up her suggestion. Unfortunately, that day the swans  let us know they were on vacation so we could not ride them. 

Instead, we hiked around the lake and admired the beautifully designed park landscape. Later I learned the park was the work of the Olmsted brothers, sons of the man who designed New York City’s Central Park. This park, a hidden gem, reminded us of High Park in Toronto.

At the start of our walk, my wife wore her Derek Jeter Yankees cap, and I wore my Mets cap. A couple stopped us and jokingly asked whether that difference caused conflict at home. We laughed and said, “No, we’re not fighting about baseball.”

But it made me think: what about when disputes are more serious?

Since the park is in Verona, NJ, my mind jumped to another Verona — the one in Italy where Shakespeare set his tragedy Romeo and Juliet. The Montagues and the Capulets were locked in a bitter feud. In the end, they were reconciled — but only after the senseless deaths of their children.

Can there be reconciliation without senseless death?

Our pastor has been preaching through Ephesians, and one message was titled “I Am Reconciled.” In Ephesians 2:11–22, Paul explains how Jews and Gentiles — once divided and hostile — are reconciled to each other and to God through Christ.

“For He Himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in His flesh the dividing wall of hostility… that He might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.” (Ephesians 2:14, 16)

Here again, peace comes through death — but not a meaningless one. Christ’s death was purposeful, decreed by God, and accomplished something astounding:

  • Hostility between God and humanity was ended.
  • Hostility between divided people can be healed.
  • A “new humanity” was created in Him.

This is not instant magic. It’s a starting point we must live out, sometimes with fear and trembling. In churches, in families, in communities — whether the conflict is over silly preferences or serious offenses — the cross is the only solid foundation for lasting reconciliation.

At the lake, my wife and I could wear different caps and still walk in harmony. In Romeo and Juliet, reconciliation came too late, purchased at too high a price. But in the gospel, the price of Christ’s  death was high – but it bought a peace that can last forever — God and sinners reconciled.

In Romans 5:10 we read:

“For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to Him through the death of His Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through His life!”

Would you be willing to admit that you and God once stood on opposite sides — enemies because of sin — but now, through Christ, can be friends?
The first step is acknowledging that without Jesus, you would remain God’s enemy. Then, by admitting your need for forgiveness and believing that Jesus’ death fully accomplished that forgiveness, your life can do a 180.

Now you can enjoy the greatest reconciliation in the entire universe — peace with God Himself.

When the Trail Gets Steeper: Learning to Lean on Grace

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 (NIV): “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up”.

I’ve never been what you’d call a daring mountaineer, but if you pointed me toward a half a mile long trail with a 10 percent grade, I could usually scramble up the rocks and roots to the top like a mountain goat. At least, I used to.

What a change it was on a recent hike. It happened at Camp Shiloh in West Milford, NJ, where I joined a bunch of guys from my men’s group for a hilltop climb. The trail itself wasn’t Everest—but soon into the ascent, I realized my nimbleness over rocks and brambles had sharply decreased.

This is the mountain. These two guys are far  ahead  of Fred and me

I needed a helping hand. More specifically, I needed Fred—a man whose background is quite different from mine—to literally grab my arm before I took an unplanned tumble onto the rocks. In Christ, our differences are minimized; out there on the hillside, they vanished altogether in the urgency of keeping me upright.

This wasn’t easy to admit. I’ve always liked to manage things on my own whenever possible. But that morning forced me to face reality: even a trail that once felt easy can become a challenge over time. Once upon a time, I could run a decent marathon or tackle a ten‑mile race without a second thought. Watching my running prowess fade has been, in a word, disappointing—but I’m thankful I never built my entire identity around being competitive in road races.

The hike, surprisingly, became a living lesson in grace. I was reminded of the old song, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.” That captures part of what I experienced—but not the whole story. Because it wasn’t just about man‑to‑man fellowship: behind Fred’s steady hand, I could see the quiet help of Christ and the Holy Spirit. That’s grace at work—helping us through decline, weakness, and stubborn independence.

So yes, my days of leaping over rocks like a mountain goat may be over—but how wonderful it is to grow in a grace that surpasses physical prowess and agility. We like to give brotherly hugs in our group – and  now a hug with Fred reminds me of the care of one brother who prevented another from tumbling down a mountain.