Why did they weep? Why did the people of Jerusalem grieve when Ezra read the word of God to them?
The people of Jerusalem had just achieved a major victory: rebuilding the wall around the city which had been destroyed during their seventy years of captivity in Babylon. They had foiled their enemies’ attempts to get them into trouble with the Persians, who ruled pretty much the entire Middle East. And Nehemiah himself was a true hero. He organized the people of the city to work in shifts, with armed men protecting them as they worked, and with trumpeters stationed at intervals around the wall to summon fighters if the locals tried a sneak attack on a lightly defended section. And, at last, they were finished. The wall was restored. They were safe from their enemies.
Nehemiah had been the cupbearer of the Persian king Artaxerxes, a couple of generations after King Cyrus had let the Jewish people go back to Jerusalem. Since a cupbearer was a position of high honor, Nehemiah lived in luxury as well as privilege. But he kept up a correspondence with those who had returned to Jerusalem, where things were not going well. After getting a letter with particularly bad news, he asked the king for permission to take a leave of absence in order to assist the people. Kind of like American Jews helping to build and defend the new nation of Israel in 1948. And just like Israel, things were not going well. Although the temple had been rebuilt - it couldn’t hold a candle to Solomon’s original temple, of course, but by this time there was no one left alive who could remember it - life was hard, they were under continual attack by the people who had moved in after the Babylonians had carried away the Jews over a hundred years before, and they were losing hope.
But now the tide had turned. The wall was built, they could lay down their arms and start having a life. They were safe. So why did they weep?
After they had completed the wall around Jerusalem, "Ezra the scribe gathered the people at the Water Gate and began to read to them from the Scriptures. He stood on a high platform, so that everyone could see and hear him." Since the people had pretty much forgotten their Hebrew during their time in Babylon and spoke Aramaic, like most of the people in the area, they needed a translator, "and so the Levites [the priests’ assistants] ...helped the people to understand." [v. 8:3,5,7]
At first, as they listened to Ezra, the people bowed down and began to worship God. But something else happened. They started to weep. Most commentators believe that they were weeping out of guilt for having strayed so far from the commandments of God. The majority opinion is that they wept out of guilt, and of sorrow, and of fear, and for the - who knows how many - years they hadn’t been worshiping regularly, keeping the festivals properly, and maybe not even eating kosher!
The people of Jerusalem knew that it was because of their father’s sins that they had been defeated by the Babylonians and taken off into exile. And they also knew that they had neglected the word of God; the newest generation hadn’t been brought up with Hebrew school and regular reading of Scripture, so they had a lot to feel guilty about. But the text tells us only that they wept, not why. And I think it’s just as likely that they wept from relief, not from fear. Because they had been faithful, in many ways. Unlike many of their brothers and sisters, they had returned to Jerusalem to rebuild, instead of staying in Babylon where it was safe. They had sacrificed, and labored, and endured. They may have been ignorant, and careless in their observance, but they had not turned aside to follow other gods.
Have you ever sat in your pew and wept, after hearing from God after a long period of feeling estranged, or dry, or lost? I have. And it’s not always out of guilt. More often, at least for me, it has been relief at being both known and safe, relief at knowing that I am home at last, being cared for, inside and out, by someone who knows and accepts me just as I am. Sometimes it is relief at being pointed in a new direction, or at having something that had been hidden or lost pointed out to me. So I think relief is just as likely as guilt. Because the people of Jerusalem were at last safe. Their God had helped them rebuild. He had stretched out his arm and brought them into a place where they could lay down their arms and once again be the people of God. They could worship in safety. It was a prodigal son moment, home at last.
Well, whyever it was the crowd was weeping, Ezra and Nehemiah told them to stop, saying to them: “This day is holy to the LORD your God; do not mourn or weep. . . do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.“ [Neh 8:9-10]
We often confuse sacred with solemn and somber. We sometimes think that to be holy is to be quiet and serious. Presbyterians are particularly known for being dour. But the Bible equates holiness with joy. Real worship is accompanied by rejoicing and celebration. The most sacred times in our lives are filled with joy: weddings, births, Christmas and Easter. God does not delight in sorrow but in joy. Sorrow comes to us all, but God turns our mourning into dancing. [Ps 30:11]
There is a reason why the second fruit of the spirit, after love, is joy. [Gal 5:22]
How does the joy of the Lord become our strength?
There are a lot of ways this happens, but I’m going to zero in on two.
The first and most important way that joy becomes strength is by knowing who we are, and whose we are. What did the people remember - or discover - as they heard the Word proclaimed to them? They heard the words: “I am the LORD who brought you up out of the land of Egypt, to be your God; you shall therefore be holy, for I am holy.” [Lev 11:45] They heard how God had chosen them, loved them and delivered them from slavery. They listened to the story of how he gave them the promised land. They learned what their purpose was as a people in the world. They began to understand that they were not just a group of individuals, they were the people of God. They were not a bunch of losers who just happened to be living in the same neighborhood, they were the chosen people of God, created and loved.
Being God’s people brings responsibility as well. The Hebrews were accountable to him for their actions. They were to lead holy lives. These obligations had occasionally uncomfortable implications, but it also gave them a sense of identity and belonging. They were to internalize the awesome truth that they had been created by God for a purpose and that their lives were part of God’s own design for the universe. They were a people with a real destiny. And because of that they weren’t to live just any old way — they were to live in such a way that their lives pleased and glorified God. Joy becomes strength not only by knowing who we are, and whose we are, but also by knowing why we are.
Isn’t this what we need as well? Is it any wonder that our children struggle with identity and self-esteem issues? Too many are taught that they are not the purposeful creation of God, and made in his image, but the chance result of whatever gene won the biological lottery. Too many are taught that they have to find or make up their own identity, their own reason for being alive. Too many are taught that they can create their own truth, that there is nothing larger than themselves that they can cling to or build on.
How much better to be firmly anchored in the truth, aligned with a reality that will not shift under our feet when the going gets rough. Isn’t it reassuring to know that we are not an accident? We have dignity and purpose from the day we were born. Before that, in fact: from the day we were conceived. And even before that, if you can believe it. You and I are here because God willed us to live. We are here because God has called each one of us by name.
Imagine being in that congregation that morning. They don’t tell us what was read, although we can guess that part of it was the rules for keeping the festival of booths, because that was what they did later. But Ezra read for hours on end! And later on, Nehemiah reports, for days! Imagine being there in that crowd, celebrating the building of the wall, the blessed safety after years of constant danger, and hearing these words:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.... Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you, I give men in return for you, peoples in exchange for your life. Fear not, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; I will say to the north, Give up, and to the south, Do not withhold; bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the end of the earth, every one who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.” [Is 43:1-8]
You and I are chosen and beloved as well. Here is what Paul writes to the Ephesians and the other Gentile congregations: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ . . . who chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ. . . [Eph 1:3 6] God is on our side. Even when we let other things take precedence, even when life’s stresses and frustrations pull us aside from what God calls us to be and do, God loves us and continues to pull us back into a life-giving relationship with him.
The second way that the joy of the Lord becomes our strength is by discovering the will of God. Being without direction is as bad as being without identity. In fact, the first questions I had when God called me to faith was “How am I supposed to live? How do I know what is the good, so that I can follow it?”
There is an ancient Jewish custom that when a young boy begins his first lesson in Torah (the Law of Moses), that a golden drop of honey is dripped onto the first page of the Torah reminding the student of the sweetness of God’s Word. A friend of mine who in seminary was the teaching assistant for one of the Hebrew profs used to bring in cookies on exam day, to remind them of the sweetness of God’s word. That was what these people who asked Ezra to read from the law understood. The people of God wanted to hear from God. They wanted to know God’s will. It was sweet to them, even if it reminded them that they weren’t living up to their heritage. They weren’t interested in soothing platitudes. They wanted sweet somethings, not sweet nothings. They wanted the truth even if it hurt. Even when it hurts, which sometimes it does. Some of the things that Jesus calls us to do are hard, like forgiving your enemies and helping the poor and giving up some things that the world says you should have by right. Remember what Jesus told his disciples: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” [Mt 16:24] It’s hard to deny ourselves, isn’t it? Especially when many people seem to do anything they like with no consequences at all.
But joy that lasts comes when we take our cues from Scripture, from this great gift that God has given us to give shape and direction to our lives. God may not care if you buy an Explorer or a Miata, but he does expect you to use your resources wisely, a responsible steward of what he has given you. He may not care if you’re an accountant or a mechanic, but he does care that you do honest work for your pay. I’m not even sure that God cares if you go to the Baptist or Catholic or Presbyterian church, as long as you build your life around knowing and following him. You say to God with the Psalmist, “The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the LORD are sure, making wise the simple; The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; The commandment of the LORD is clear, enlightening the eyes; The fear of the LORD is pure, enduring forever; The ordinances of the LORD are true and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; Sweeter also than honey, and drippings of the honeycomb. Moreover, by them is your servant warned; In keeping them there is great reward.” [Ps 19:7-11]
A man driving in West Virginia realized that he was on the wrong road and stopped to ask for help. “I’m lost,” he said to an old man sitting in front of a store. “Can you help me?” The old man asked, ”Do you know where you are?” “Sure,” the traveler said. “I saw the name of your town when I drove in here.” “Do you know where you came from?” inquired the old man. “Well, of course,” said the driver. “Do you know where you want to go?” asked the local. “Yes,” replied the man in the car, and he named his destination. The old man leaned forward and said, “Well then, you aren’t lost. You just need directions.”
We know who we are. We know where we want to end up. And the Bible tells us how to get from here to there. We have directions.
Nehemiah’s people’s lives had been built around some very important goals, first rebuilding the temple and then rebuilding the wall. But when they were done, their purpose was lost. They had been so busy building things - although the things they built were important - that they had lost their identities. They needed an identity that would last, a purpose that would lift themselves beyond today into a future that they could count on. And that is what God gave them.
God calls us to order our lives around the hearing and obeying of his word. He calls us to gather, to listen, and to obey. And that is cause for celebration. That is a cause to worship. That is the source of joy.
