2 Cor 5:18-21 All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. 20 Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
“All this is from God…” These words usher us into the breathtaking reality that salvation is not born of human effort, wisdom, or willpower — it is entirely the work of God. From beginning to end, it is His plan, His initiative, His unrelenting grace. Through Yeshua (Jesus), God stepped into our brokenness and reconciled us to Himself, repairing the relationship that sin had shattered. Reconciliation is not merely a theological concept — it is the restoration of intimacy with the Father. We did not ascend to Him in holiness; He descended to us in mercy. The Creator did not wait for us to find our way back. No, He came down through Yeshua, arms stretched wide in love, calling us home.
“…and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” These words shift the focus from what God has done for us to what He now desires to do through us. Reconciliation is not the end of the story—it is the beginning of a new calling. Those whom the love of God has restored are now commissioned to carry that same love to others. We are not passive recipients of grace; we are active participants in God’s redemptive mission. The healing we’ve received becomes the message we proclaim. Every believer, regardless of title or platform, is entrusted with this ministry—to be a bridge, a voice of hope, a vessel of truth and mercy to a world aching for peace. Reconciled people become reconcilers — it is both our identity and our sacred responsibility.
“…God was reconciling the world to Himself in Messiah, not counting their trespasses against them…” What staggering mercy this is—that the holy and righteous God, who has every right to judge, instead chooses to forgive. Through Yeshua, our debt has not just been reduced—it has been completely erased. The weight of guilt, the record of wrongs, the shame of our past—wiped clean by the blood of the Lamb. This is not a theory; it’s a liberating reality. And now, we carry this message like fire in our bones: your sins are no longer counted against you. This is the heartbeat of the gospel—a glorious invitation to come home to a God who has already made the way.
“… We are ambassadors for Messiah.” You are not just a believer—you are an ambassador. An official representative of the King of Kings. God makes His appeal through us. When we speak the message of reconciliation, it is as if Messiah Himself is calling out through our voice: “Be reconciled to God!” Let this truth humble and embolden you. You are not alone in your witness—God speaks through your life.
“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us…” This is the heart of the gospel. Yeshua, utterly without sin, took on the entire weight and curse of our sin, not a fraction, but all of it. In exchange, we are given not merely forgiveness, but the righteousness of God Himself. This is not something we strive to earn—it is a new identity, received by faith. In Messiah, we are declared righteous.
So now, as one whose blood Yeshua has reconciled, rise and take up your calling. The world is desperate for peace, for truth, for the hope that only comes through the Messiah. You are His voice, His hands, His ambassador. Don’t remain silent—plead with the lost, shine with His righteousness, and carry the message of reconciliation everywhere you go. Be bold. Be faithful. Be His Ambassador of Reconciliation!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.