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 May 29, 2025
****** “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” I’m not sure if it’s true, but George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, is credited as popularizing a big change in film production: not having opening credits. Instead of old Westerns and black and white films that began by naming the director, producer, key stars and so on, Lucas began the Star Wars films with the very famous line: “ A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away .” And then came the opening “crawl” that sets up the viewer for the story to come: "It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire..." And so it sets up the story of Luke, Leia and Han Solo. Well, I want to suggest this morning that here in Acts 1 we have the opening words and “crawl” to the Book as a whole. And what sets the scene? Jesus’ ascension. *** In Acts 1, Luke recaps from where his gospel left off in Luke 24, with similar talk of the spread of gospel to the ends of the earth, that his disciples will be his witnesses, and his instruction to wait for the promise of God to come that is His Spirit, as well as, of course, Jesus’ ascent into heaven. But the Acts version has a specific focus: repeatedly mention the watching and looking of the disciples, the taking and lifting up of Jesus and the repeated mention of his destination: heaven. So why this attention in Acts' “opening crawl”? How does this set the scene for the story of the church that is told in Acts and continues today? Well, in contrast to the first victory in the opening of Star Wars, perhaps preparing for more victories to come, the Ascension grounds us in the defining, cosmic-shaping victory of Jesus that began with his resurrection and conlcudes with his exaltation in the spiritual world. Echoing Daniel 7, Jesus is taken up on a cloud, the chariot of the warrior-God, and is now enthroned to rule in heaven. The work of the church is done in light of this all-encompassing victory that has already been won. Christ is already King. But it’s not only that. Often we talk about Jesus’ ascension from a human perspective: his physical departure from earth. Here the disciples see for themselves Jesus’ exaltation and the opening of heaven: they are gripped by it. Through Christ’s entrance into and rule in heaven, he is made more readily available to us on earth. T he work of the church is done by living in a new space that recognises this opening of heaven: consider God’s promised Holy Spirit who comes in Acts 2, how angels appear here and throughout Acts, as well as people being healed, delivered from evil spirits, miracles taking place and people coming to faith . The spiritual realm is breaking in. So, this Thursday of 5th week, with deadlines, looming exams and soon-to-come ordinations: where will we look? Will we stare upwards and wonder where Jesus went? Or will we look outwards, and live in the light of the one who rules the heavens and has opened heaven to us, and for whom we wait to rule the earth as well? ******
By Suse McBay May 13, 2025
*** True Colours I was in a situation a few years ago where someone I trusted and expected to act in a certain way didn’t do so. In fact, they did they did the opposite. It hurt. It hurt because there were consequences that affected me, but it also hurt because I thought I knew the person, that I knew how’d they’d respond to pressure. When the rubber hits the road and things get real. Instead, their true colours emerged, and I was wrong. Who I thought this person was, and who they told me they were, was in reality quite different from who they actually proved themselves to be . The specifics aren’t for posting online, but I’m sure you can relate. Most of us can recall some kind of experience of someone we love, someone whose character we trust, letting us down. Someone who you might have believed in—maybe even defended to other people—choosing to do something that shows they weren’t worthy of that trust. Showing that your assessment of them was, essentially, quite different from the reality of who they are. They lacked integrity. Esther’s Example This term at Wycliffe, my colleague John is teaching his way through the book of Esther for the Bible expositions in chapel. Now the book of Esther famously doesn’t even mention God: so what is its purpose? Well, in part (as my colleague has been discussing), it’s a book about wisdom. Will we learn from the wise in the story: Esther (and Mordecai)? Will learn from the foolish: King Ahasuerus? The wicked: Haman? At the start of the book, Esther is a young, timid woman, who’d been through a lot. She was orphan and had been raised by her uncle. But she shows willingness and some social savviness and does what Mordecai tells her to do. By the end of the book she’s bold and courageous. Yes, she knows how to play the political game, but she does so in order to stand up for her people who are being persecuted by Persian imperial policy. She exposes Haman’s duplicitousness. Esther has a remarkable integrity and commitment to who she is and what she values. She is willing to risk her life to stand up for what is right, even knowing the cost. She has integrity. Her insides match her outsides as her character develops through the book. When We Fail Stephen and I go to a large Anglican church in the centre of Oxford. A couple of weeks ago, we had a visiting preacher (who is also a poet and philosopher) preaching about baptism. In the course of his sermon, he reminded us that who we really are is who we are when no-one is watching. And that Jesus died for us, knowing exactly what we do when the curtains are closed and no-one can see us. Again, it speaks to integrity—and that Jesus has come to deal with it. If everyone else thinks I’m a model Christian, but at home, by myself, I’m angry, compulsive, critical, selfish or greedy, the latter is a far more honest assessment of who I am and needs some spiritual help. It exposes a lack of integrity: I have an exterior self who looks one way, but an interior self (that I hide away) that looks quite another. What will happen when the pressure is on? That interior self will come out, one way or another. The good news is Jesus went to the Cross, even for that interior self. And with his help I can be forgiven, heal and become whole. That’s in part what baptism symbolises: me dying to all that ugliness and ungodliness. Naming it, owing it and leaving it with Jesus at the Cross, and then rising to a new life that where my insides match my outsides. A person of integrity. Learn from the Wise: Daniel 11-12 But what of the original situation: when others we trusted in and believed in have let us down? I’ve been teaching my way through the book of Daniel and its been fascinating to muse on this topic. Daniel 7-12 describe a series of visionary experiences that give God’s perspective on the political problems and extreme religious oppression that led to the Maccabean revolt in the 160s BC. These were largely due to the decisions of the Antiochus IV who was on the throne of the Hellenistic empire, a Greek of Seleucid descent. You can read about Antiochus IV in 1 and 2 Maccabees, but the snapshot version is that he installed puppet high priests in the Temple at Jerusalem, looted it for money to fuel his military campaigns, outlawed the Torah (including Sabbath observance and circumcision) and, most egregiously, desecrated the Temple with pig sacrifices and an altar to Zeus. These orders resulted in many faithful Jews having to try and keep Torah secretly. When discovered, those who had done so were public shamed and then executed (e.g. 2 Macc 6:10). It was miserable existence (2 Macc 6:9). Antiochus IV’s diabolical political rule was one thing, but the book of Daniel also wrestles with this: what do we do when our religious leaders let us down? When their outsides don’t match their insides? When we discover they are white-washed tombs (Matt 23:27)? The high priest and many other religious establishment figures were swayed by Antiochus IV at the expense of their loyalty to the Lord Most High. Daniel 11 and 12 in particular speak to this situation. Daniel 11:32 says that Antiochus will “seduce with intrigue those who violate the covenant” in contrast to “the people who are loyal to their God.” A few verses later we learn why: “Those who acknowledge him [Antiochus] he shall make more wealthy, and shall appoint them as rulers over many, and shall distribute the land for a price” (v.39). Antiochus used his power and means to get what he wanted, and those who showed more fidelity to him than to the God of Israel, got to share in that wealth themselves. So, what is Daniel’s answer to when the stewards of God’s covenant and teachers of God’s law reveal their true colours? When their words and who they’ve said they are don’t match up with who they have shown themselves to be? When those around us lack integrity, what are we to do? Well, it’s not to keep hanging on and believing in religious leaders who have proven themselves to be corrupted by political power (they are destined for shame and contempt, Dan 12:2). Daniel’s suggestion is to fix our eyes elsewhere instead: “ The wise among the people shall give understanding to many; for some days, however, they shall fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and plunder. ” (Daniel 11:33) Look to the wise. Look to those with understanding. Come to understand for yourselves. But this is not an easy answer. For these are the folk that get into trouble. Who perish by the sword. They don’t look like winners. This is perhaps why Daniel’s own response to the visions is one of weakness, fear and trembling. To understand and see reality for what it is can be deeply disturbing. In Daniel, understanding revolves around knowing God is God of all and all kings should have limits to their power. Even when kings like Antiochus IV trample on what is sacred, and transgress into the holy of holies—divine space—God through his angels is contending with powers beyond human ones and will bring all to judgement. But the waiting in the meantime will not be easy or pain-free. That’s why the promise of resurrection is so important in Daniel 12: it’s reassurance for the faithful—for the wise—to keep going. It is they who will be raised and will be like angels: "Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever." (Dan. 12:3) When those we’ve trusted and believed in fail us, God is at work. There may not be easy answers, and sitting with the reality of betrayal is painful, but God is not done yet. Sometimes what is happening is part of a much bigger, cosmic picture and God will intervene. Others’ words and actions may not line up, but ours can. Our insides can match our outsides and our words match our actions. With God’s help we too can become “ people who are loyal to their God ,” those who “ shall stand firm and take action. ” (Dan. 11:32) ****** Cover picture: John Everett Millais, Esther, 1863–65, Oil on canvas, 77.4 x 106 cm, Private Collection

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