What Being an Accountant Has Taught Me About Reconciliation

How can being an accountant help you think more like Christ? Here are a few thoughts you might have never considered.

What Being an Accountant Has Taught Me About Reconciliation
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya / Unsplash

I'm not quite sure how I ended up as an accountant. I can count on one hand, with one finger, the people I know who honestly dreamed of being an accountant. But the rest of us? Even just mentioning my vocation is a great way to kill a conversation! Who wants to hear about how the VLOOKUP function was obviously made obsolete with the release of the XLOOKUP? And that’s not even mentioning the even less useful HLOOKUP.

It's not that I don't enjoy what I do. It’s just that I sometimes need to reconcile my past dreams with where I've ended up. It’s a somewhat consistent reconciliation, which is a little ironic. You know, since in accounting, reconciliation is such a constant process.

Each month, as part of my job, I revisit and review scores of accounts to make sure they align with where they should be. If our books disagree with a bank statement, for example, it’s my job to figure out why. Where could the discrepancy be hiding? Maybe it got booked to another account? Or was it just missed altogether?

It's Like a Math Version of Hide and Seek.

I’m basically a math detective. Whenever I don the cape of accountancy, it’s my duty to search out brokenness wherever it may lie and restore balance. And let me tell you, it’s a never-ending battle. It’s constant work.

My tendency has long been to push for perfection. I want my books to sing. If I find a mistake in a given month, my impulse is to correct it immediately and get it in the right period. With tight deadlines, though, that's very nearly impossible.

Maybe if I worked long enough, if I developed good enough systems, if I pushed myself to the brink and was blessed with a little luck… maybe then I could have a perfect month. I could be 100% in balance. But what about next month? The month after? Even if I were an incredible accountant—something I don’t claim to be—such a constant push would be unsustainable. At some point, my strength would fail.

But there’s one really, really cool thing about reconciliation—strictly in the realm of accounting, of course. This definitely isn’t an allegory for anything else. According to the Generally Accepted Accounting Principles, a set of books doesn’t need to be perfectly in balance to pass inspection.

No one wants an accountant to spend hours chasing pennies. Not stakeholders, not coworkers, not even auditors. As long as you've resolved materially significant issues and develop an action plan to deal with the rest, you can technically be reconciled. Your books might not be in balance yet, but the greatest task is done.

Here's Why Accounting Is a Beautiful Metaphor

I’m reminded of what Paul said in Romans 5:

For if, while we were still enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, how much more, now that we have been reconciled, shall we be saved by His life.

God reconciled us when we were still enemies. He didn’t require perfect balance or alignment to restore our relationship with him. He recognized that we could never earn perfection by holding tight to Levitical law. That task would be a constant battle under our own power. But being reconciled to God isn't something that comes from our own power.

In this, I’m afraid the accounting metaphor falls apart. In accounting, I’m responsible for solving the big stuff. Any differences that remain must be immaterial. Auditors are fine with such imperfections because they don’t really matter in the fuller picture. When it comes to God, though? Our separation from him was deeply material. God is just, and justice—any single lack of imperfection—demanded death.

Even if I worked long enough, if I developed good enough systems, if I pushed myself to the brink and was blessed with a lot of luck…Even then, I could never earn my place. But God, in his mercy, put his own action plan into effect. He sent his Son to pay off our debt, cutting through the brokenness to restore our relationship to him. And in that, justice was served.

It’s strange to think, even now. There are moments when I feel wildly out of balance. There are days when I feel distant from God, when “what I want” takes center stage. But even in those times when balance with God feels so far out of reach, his justice endures, and his promise remains. I am reconciled. And reconciliation is just the beginning. As 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”