Preached on Sunday, January 26, 2025, the Third Sunday after the Epiphany, at Trinity Cathedral, Little Rock.

From the eighth chapter of Nehemiah: “The ears of all the people were attentive to the book of the law…Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people…and when he opened it, all the people stood up” (Nehemiah 8:4–5).

One can only wonder how many reasons for coming to church today are in this room. Why is it that you came to Trinity this morning? Maybe because this is just what we do: week after week, year after year, some of us since birth, and some of us even having taken up the task from those who did the exact same thing in the exact same place for generations. Or maybe because someone dragged us here today: a friend, a spouse, a parent, a grandparent, a child, a grandchild, a guilty conscience, you name it. Maybe we’re here because we needed to be here: we have a blessing for which we need to give thanks, a pain for which we need to find healing, a grief for which we need to find support, and maybe all three all at once. Maybe the events of this week have been too much to bear, and maybe, just maybe, we tell ourselves, this Church thing might be of help. Or maybe we’re not sure why we’re here, but we are, and we’re still searching for a reason.

Well, I suppose that, maybe, there’s someone here who came to church today because they knew that we were going to read the book of Nehemiah, and that, believe it or not, this is the one and only Sunday this book of the Bible shows up in our three year lectionary, our three year schedule of readings, and that person didn’t want to miss it. Maybe? Maybe just me. Well, regardless of the reason you’re here today, I’m so glad you are, for any of those reasons, and not least because we get to read the book of Nehemiah.

But this book might be unfamiliar to some of us. Let’s back up a bit. The book of Nehemiah tells the story of what happens after Israel is exiled from their land. You’ll remember that, in the Old Testament, the people of Israel were conquered and taken by the Babylonians, but some decades later, Babylon collapses by the hand of Persia, and the once exiled people have the opportunity to return. Of course, they could not really return. Their home had been destroyed, exile would have marked them forever, and they would have to rebuild––both literally and figuratively. But return and rebuild they did, led by the governor, a man named Nehemiah.

Now, as you can imagine, there were a few obstacles along the way. What would Israel do about the people and practices that had come to occupy the land since they were conquered by foreign forces? How might Israel reintroduce their own religious practices, desperately maintained during their Babylonian captivity? And what about the Temple, the glory of Solomon, the house of the LORD, which had been leveled by northern adversaries? How might that get rebuilt? But one of the biggest obstacles is what we find in today’s eighth chapter of Nehemiah: how might the people of God reposition themselves in relation to the Word of God? That’s our question for today: what is our relation to Holy Scripture?

It’s our question, too, I say, because we always find ourselves in this season of return and reconstruction. Exile is a daily experience. Things happen. Life happens. And we find ourselves displaced and dislocated. External forces take us from the familiar, from the God-given. And then, by God’s grace, comes the opportunity for return and rebuilding. But such return and rebuilding always begs the question: what will our relation to Holy Scripture look like? That’s what’s posed to us in Nehemiah, and so, that’s our question for today: as we pick up the fragments of our lives––as a nation, as a congregation, as individuals––what role will the Bible have?

Israel had neglected Holy Scripture. They had “forgotten,” as the Bible likes to put it. And so, part of the reconstruction of their lives––and part of the reconstruction of our lives––is to listen afresh to the pages of Holy Writ, to pull out the Book of the Law yet again and to hear it with attentive ears. So goes the story:

“All the people of Israel gathered together into the square before the Water Gate”––that is, the eastern gate to the city of Jerusalem. “[The people themselves] told the scribe Ezra to bring the book of the law of Moses, which the LORD had given to Israel.” And Ezra did just as they asked. “[He] brought the law before the assembly,” and everyone could hear with understanding. Ezra read it to them for hours, from “early morning until midday…And the ears of all the people were attentive to the book of the law.” “Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people”––not only could they hear it, but they could see it for themselves, too––“and when Ezra opened it, all the people stood up. Then Ezra blessed the LORD, the great God, and all the people answered, ‘Amen, Amen’”–– “that’s right, so be it!”––hands held high. Then they bowed their heads and worshiped the LORD with their faces to the ground. So they read from the book, from the law of God, with interpretation. They gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading.”

But recentering their lives around Holy Scripture was a real obstacle for Israel. The Bible says that “all the people wept when they heard the words of the law.” But the governor, Nehemiah, and the priest, Ezra, reassured the people: “Do not mourn or weep. In fact, go home and celebrate. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send some to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our LORD. Do not be grieved, but celebrate, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.”

The eighth chapter of Nehemiah is all about what Scripture can do for our broken lives. But before any of that, it’s about our own attentiveness. Attentiveness is how we reconstruct our lives after seasons of upheaval and displacement: attend to Holy Scripture, listen to Holy Scripture. It will restore you. It will reorient you. “It revives the soul,” as the Psalmist puts it (Psalm 19:7a). It’s just that perfect! But before any of that––before being restored, reoriented, revived––Scripture requires our attention.

But attentiveness is a lost art. We, too, have neglected Holy Scripture. We, like our ancestors before us, have “forgotten.” And in so doing, we miss out on the restoration, reorientation, and revivification given to us by Holy Scripture.

The Bible doesn’t have much to say about why it is that we forget, that we neglect, that our attention fails, but here, the Bible tells us what happens as a result of it. In those moments of neglect, of forgetfulness, or of lost attentiveness, we tend to lean on those in authority. We hope that our authority figures are attentive enough to make up the difference. So it happened for Israel, and so it happens to us. The problem with that––as it was back then and as it is now––is that even our authorities are fallible.

Authorities are helpful, but if we rely on them, we risk hearing an incomplete word of God, at best, or a corrupted word, at worst. An authority might have us think that the Bible doesn’t actually say that, “When a foreigner resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the foreigner. The foreigner who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the foreigner as yourself, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:33–34)––but turn to the nineteenth chapter of Leviticus, and it sure does. An authority might have us believe that the Bible doesn’t actually have Jesus saying, “Be merciful, as our Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36)––but the Gospel of Luke would beg to differ. Authorities of all kind—even preachers, I’m afraid—fall short. Authorities are helpful, but fallible. 

And so, what is it that we do? How is it that we return to God and rebuild our fractured, displaced lives? How is it that we are restored, reoriented, and revived? By returning to Scripture itself. Remember, the people of Israel demand that the authorities bring them the Book of the Law. Remember, the priest Ezra reads the Bible in their midst, yes, but in such a way that they can even see it for themselves. Listen to sermons, come to Bible studies––yes! But don’t for a moment let go of the privilege to read this book for yourself, a privilege for which so many saints before us lived, fought, and died. Read your Bible. Stand in its presence. Give your attention to it. Not only will it bring you life, but it will be your means of making sure that no one can prevent you from hearing a good word from the LORD.

No matter what brought you to Trinity this morning, I pray that God makes good on your being here today, that such true hearing and understanding be yours this day, that rebuilding might be possible for you this day, that restoration, reorientation, and revivification might be realized in you this day, not because of what I say, but because what God says, words spoken to us fresh each morning, flowing forth from the pages of Holy Scripture, “more to be desired than fine gold, far sweeter than honey in the comb” (Psalm 19:10), given by the LORD God Himself, a good gift for His people. Amen.