Reinhabiting our Story: A Sermon on Ezra 6:19-22

March 13, 2025

A sermon on Ezra 6:19-22, given in Wycliffe Chapel on Tuesday 11th March 2025.

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My favourite thing about moving house?

When it comes to moving house, there are a few moments that I really enjoy. Most of it, I could do without, but there are a couple of key markers that I really do like.


The first is when, after all your worldly goods have been packed up and moved into the new house, you unpack enough to have a place to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea. Maybe even enough to have the TV set-up, so you can watch a show while you eat pizza and recover from all the hard work. A corner of normal amidst a sea of moving boxes and furniture. It feels good!


And there are other moments along the road too. When a room is completely unpacked. When the kitchen is finally organised enough that you can cook. Little moments of joy, amidst the chaos of moving boxes, as you establish life in a new place.


But my favourite is the one that might not come till a week or two—or month or two—later: when the pictures are hung on the walls. Those cherished items we’ve accumulated over time that are visible reminders of the key moments, people and things that have happened to get you to where you are.


Getting the pictures on the walls makes the house not just anyone’s house, but uniquely our house. The McBays. From the Mexican framed mirrors, ordination gifts, pieces of art crafted by family and friends. Wedding photos and pictures of places we’ve called home.


It’s not the Lloyds’. The Terrys’. Certainly not the Screnocks’. It’s our story.    [These names are a reference to the families of three much loved—and respected!—colleagues.]


Ezra 6 and putting up pictures

So, I invite you today to indulge me in this analogy, which might be a bit of a stretch: perhaps what we have here in Ezra 6, and the description of the first Passover after the exile, is maybe just a little bit like the putting up of pictures on the walls of your home after a house move.


If you need some convincing, here’s why: because what we have in Ezra 6 is (a) the end of journey to a new home and (b) a visible remembrance of the story of how they came to be.


(a) Ezra 6: The end of a long journey

We have been on a long journey through first 6 chapters of Ezra. The oh-so lengthy recounting of all the names of all the people who made the trip from Babylon back to Judah. The beginning of laying the foundations of the temple. The complications and setbacks of getting it built. Finally getting it done, installing the priests and Levites and last week, having it all dedicated.


The next chapter (Ezra 7) jumps into the arrival of Ezra on the scene: taking us decades forwards in the story.


These verses are the close to the opening act. The end of a long beginning.


(b) Ezra 6: A visible remembrance of their story

While the reading today is just four verses long, they describe an important moment of remembrance of how the people of Israel came to be.


At the end of the journey back to Jerusalem, they celebrate Passover and the festival of unleavened bread. In doing so, they remember their story. The story of how they came to be a freed people in the first place, how they’d been delivered out of an oppressive and burdensome existence in Egypt. A story of a God who had heard their cries and struggles for help. A story that concluded with the first entry into the Promised Land.


A story retold again and again throughout Scripture. Remembered and rehearsed.


Importantly, it was not just the story that reminded them of who they were, but it was a story that reminded them of who their God is.


Ezra 6: A lot more than just putting up pictures

But of course, Ezra 6 is also a whole lot more than putting up cherished photos and pictures around your house, even if those pictures tell stories about the life you’ve lived.


Photos on a wall are static. They aren’t like paintings in Harry Potter which you can at least converse with. Nor are they like the chalk drawings in Mary Poppins that Mary and Bert jump into; where they get to go to the races and dance with penguins.


Pictures in a home might bring a smile to your face or a thought to your mind of precious memories, but then you get back to the business of your day.


But in Passover, the people embodied a story through a physical act of worship, though preparation and purification—and then through participation in the meal itself.


Through their observance of Passover, the distant past, the stories of their ancestors, became the story of the returned exiles. Remembering this story of God’s deliverance was a re-embodiment of the story where the God who did that for them now is now doing it for us.


Ezra 6: a diligent observance of Passover

Our reading is pretty clear that when it came to celebrating Passover, the people were diligent in that re-enactment—something that had not always been the case. 2 Chronicles 30 describes another Passover (during Hezekiah’s reign) that was a month delayed, with issues around preparedness and purification that left the Levites ashamed and meant Hezekiah had to plead for extra grace from God.


But not so with the returned exiles! Ezra 6 is painstakingly clear they didn’t make the same mistakes, but participating faithfully as God’s people and keeping the covenant he made with them. For it was observed on the 14th day of the 1st month just as commanded (cf. Leviticus 23). All the priests and levites were purified and clean in preparation for it, right on time. Everyone present was fit to receive, and had duly separated themselves and become clean.


All of the priests and Levites. All of the people of Israel. Before the God of Israel.


Ezra’s Passover: diligent but different

Notice the conclusion to the account in v.22:

“With joy they celebrated the Festival of Unleavened Bread for seven days, for the Lord had made them joyful and had turned the heart of the king of Assyria to them, so that he aided them in the work on the house of God, the God of Israel.”


In the remembering an old story, it starts to take on new meaning. Yes, Passove is about remembering the story of the God who delivered them out of slavery in Egypt, but now they know something new about this God who delivers. He also delivers from captivity in Babylon. A captivity and judgement that was a result of their sin. A result of their idolatry.


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I don’t know about you, but I find it much easier to accept grace when it’s for something that’s not my fault. I’m not a huge fan of asking for help, but I can usually get there when needed.


What I think many of us find harder, is accepting grace when it’s for something that is our responsibility. When we did know better, but we blew it.


Grace when I’ve been the recipient of injustice can feel quite different to receiving grace when I’m the instigator of it. When I’ve caused hurt to others. When I’ve looked the other way. When I’ve taken advantage. When I’ve acted out of fear, jealousy, shame or indifference.


But here the people of God were: now remembering both the grace God showed in the Exodus and rejoicing for their experience of God’s grace in restoring them from Exile. And not just in half-measure. A full restoration. A temple built where God would dwell again with His people. Grace upon grace.


God’s promise that exile would not be forever, that should they turn back and seek him, he would restore? It was all true.

And here they were, experiencing the fruit of it and seeing God turn the heart of the king to make it all possible.

He had made them joyful.


Jesus and the Passover

In the reading from John’s gospel, it makes it clear that Jesus is to be considered our paschal lamb. The sacrifice to be offered for us in our slavery. In John’s account in chapter 19, Jesus was crucified at the time when the Levites and Priests would have been slaughtering the lamb for the Passover meal.


A sacrifice for us.


It’s a story we remember in church every time we have communion together. It’s a story we’ll remember at Maundy Thursday services and Good Friday in just a few weeks.


But don’t let it be a story of your past only.


A testimony to unfold over a lifetime

I remember when I first was asked to “give my testimony” and wondered what on earth I should say, because I didn’t really have a “before Jesus” story. I couldn’t speak of a life without God. There was no radical conversion or spiritual rag-to-riches story that I thought I should have.


But over the years, with life’s ups and downs—and some pretty bleak downs at times—God showed me that the story of deliverance—the story of Passover, the story of the exile and the the story of the Cross—was a story for me too.

Israel’s understanding of God broadened and deepened as God continued to work with His people. It took on new meaning. It brought great joy.


In a few moments we’re going to say the Creed together—and what better way to remember our story? As we do, I encourage you to think about the story of deliverance God has done, the one he is presently doing or the one that perhaps you’re trusting he will do at the right time.


Keep faithfully, diligently, remembering the story God has given you. And by His Spirit, keep letting him bring more of your life into that story. 


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By Suse McBay March 17, 2026
Are you 100% sure about that? Last December, Stephen and I headed for Prague for a few days. We were looking forward to Christmas markets, mulled wine, and shopping. Because we had booked a really early flight, we decided to stay in an airport hotel the night before. We hadn’t banked on one thing though: how to get from the bus station at Heathrow to the hotel. We could see our destination towering ahead of us as we exited the coach, but there was no reliable way to get there on foot. Much like Houston, navigating the surface roads of Heathrow is much easier for those in a car. So, we asked for directions from one of the airport staff. She pointed us over to two elevators, sat right next to each other. One had a line of at least twenty people. The other one had none. Those at the front of the queue hadn’t even pressed the button. That seemed strange and indicated that perhaps the people in line didn’t know what they were doing—or weren’t used to London airports. But why was one line so long and the other non-existent? The signs above weren’t exactly clear, but here were two lifts side-by-side, surely they went to the same place? Towards the back of the line was a middle-aged man, surrounded by luggage and family, who realised what we were trying to puzzle out. “Nah, you can’t use it. The other lift doesn’t go down. Doesn’t go to the same place,” he told us. We looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure?” we asked. “ One hundred percent , mate. One hundred percent.” The certainty with which he declared his answer was persuasive. He crowed like he was the CEO of the airport. That lift would not go where the other one was going. He repeated himself again. 100%. Only, he was wrong. We risked looking like fools. We walked to the vacant elevator, hit the button, and—lo and behold!—an elevator appeared that went to the exact same location as the other. The middle-aged man surrounded by luggage was 100%... in the wrong. Utterly and completely. *** Words, words, words, but no wisdom I don’t personally know the man who so-confidently revealed his wrongness. I’ve no idea whether his bluster was out of character from his usual self. But in the moment of our encounter, he acted every bit the ‘fool’ we find in Book of Proverbs: "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing personal opinion." (Proverbs 18:2) There is much wisdom in Proverbs 17:28: Even fools who keep silent are considered wise; when they close their lips, they are deemed intelligent. It seems to me that we live in a world saturated with words, whether written or spoken. There’s an ever-growing number of websites, social media platforms, podcasts, and so on. Even more so now with AI. Yet for all this verbal abundance, there does not seem to be any more wisdom than there used to be. I would argue with AI, there seems to be less (or perhaps it’s simply exposing our foolishness). Part of me wonders about the virtue of writing a blog, when these are so often half-thoughts, explorations, and ideas: am I just adding to the plethora of opinions that exist on the blogosphere? Last year, I was teaching on how to plan and lead funerals with our final year ordinands. I spoke with confidence about what works and what doesn’t. What the role of the cleric is, how to work with the grieving family, how to craft the sermon, what to do afterwards etc. It felt good to be able to give real, lived experience having worked in a church for a decade. But it was only during the Q&A when I realized something. I realized my confidence was borne of a very specific context: I ministered in a large, Episcopal church in Houston, Texas. Not a small parish church, somewhere remote in England. Did the wisdom and experience I bring still have value in the Church of England, where the Church is an established one? Where those who minister do among many people who don’t dare to cross the threshold of a religious building except in such moments of life and death? Now I happen to think it does; but only with some qualification. For what I realized in that moment is that it’s not quite as readily transferable as I’d assumed. Church cultures are different. Expectations are different. How people respond and react to their local vicar is different! What works in one scenario doesn’t necessarily work in another. Consider Proverbs 26:4-5: 4 Do not answer fools according to their folly, or you will be a fool yourself. 5 Answer fools according to their folly, or they will be wise in their own eyes. Proverbs 26 has a seeming contradiction that speaks to the importance of context. In the situation where you’re faced with someone spouting foolishness, what should you do? Speak or not speak? Engage or not engage? The modern equivalent to v.4 might be to say to yourself “not my monkeys, not my circus” and walk away. But what about the times when it is your circus? When they are your monkeys? What about when to walk away is to leave someone blind to their mistakes and doomed to make more? What if responding might feasibly help someone see beyond their own blinkers and make a different choice? Sometimes v.4 might be the path of wisdom. Other times it’s v.5. But it’s not always apparent which is which. Overconfidence is not just dangerous for making us look like fools or giving bad advice. If we stay in our certitude, we miss the heart of the issue revealed in these two verses: we need wisdom. So where do we find it? *** Does ‘wisdom come with age’? I’ve heard it said that ‘wisdom comes with age’. Ironically enough, this line was used when I was in something of a disagreement with someone much older than me. But claiming moral high ground or superior understanding on the basis of some unalterable characteristic that you have but I don’t, is more indicative of pride than wisdom. If age does come with wisdom, there would be no conflict or disagreement within the human species as we age. If age is the sole arbiter, we should collectively do better as the wrinkles and grey hairs multiply. Yet that’s not what happens. Wisdom, sadly, is not inevitable. It can come with age because of one very simple reality: the more time you’ve had on the planet means you’ve had more opportunity to become wise. Now whether or not you’ve taken those opportunities is quite a different thing! *** Wisdom: a gift that needs seeking Proverbs has an interestingly balanced view of wisdom. It is (1) something that requires active seeking, yet also (2) something which only God can give. Proverbs 2:1-4 talks about the need to exert effort in acquisition of wisdom. It’s not something that just lands on our laps: it asks you to be open to learning and sitting with what you receive (v.1), deliberate and intentional in putting your body in a space to grow in it (v.2), and vocal in your search for it (v.3). In other words: humble, open, and hungry. This passage concludes by likening it to searching for silver or hidden treasure (v.4). Think about that for a moment: do you search for wisdom in the same way you seek out growth in income or asset? From a human wisdom point of view, seeking financial gain for our security and future as we age (and our children grow and go off to college etc) makes good sense. But what if we were to seek wisdom with the very same fervour? What if wisdom had the same significance for our spiritual security and future? What if it is important to our growth in the Christian life and readiness for what may come our way? It’s a gift that needs seeking. But Proverbs tells us it is also a gift that is given. Verse 6 reveals “ the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding .” Our seeking is not the whole picture. Longing for wisdom does not mean we get it. Wisdom is God’s domain not ours. Proverbs 8 illustrates that God’s Wisdom is not something to acquire or harvest. It is not a commodity to be doled out. It is not a consumer good. Wisdom was present when God made the world. Wisdom is a part of God’s self that chooses when to be imparted and when not to be (compare 1:28; 8:17; 9:5, 16) The very fabric of our material world is infused with the mystery of Wisdom. Insight and understanding comes from God and helps us to navigate the complexity of our lives, but this gift is just a glimpse of a much greater reality of the divine Wisdom which exists eternally. This, perhaps, brings us back to where I started. True wisdom is never found in loud proclamations of “one hundred percent!”. Why? Because the one who is wise recognises they have a lot to learn. They know that new information can shift and reframe yesterday’s certainty. Maybe the first step is to stop claiming absolute certainty—to stop the all-or-nothing thinking. Maybe we start with recognising what Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 13: we only see in part, know in part, understand in part. And from there, we begin actively seeking that gift which only God—from His Wisdom—can give. Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. 2 She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. 3 She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, 4 "You that are simple, turn in here!" To those without sense she says, 5 "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6 Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight." Proverbs 9:1-6 ****** Photo © Copyright Derek Harper and licensed for reuse under a cc-by-sa/2.0 Creative Commons Licence.
By Suse McBay February 13, 2026
What do we do on days when God seems entirely absent? Some thoughts about where I see that in my life today and, looking back, recognising how much has changed.

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