Wilderness Wanderings

The king said to me, "What is it you want?" Then I prayed to the God of heaven, and I answered the king… (Nehemiah 2:4-5a)

Not all prayers are long and eloquent.

This second prayer of Nehemiah's certainly wasn't.

Now, I suppose it is possible that Nehemiah heard the king's question, ran home to get on his knees beside his bed, prayed sincerely for half an hour, then ran back to the palace to give the king his response. But, probably not.

The way this is written, it sure would make it seem like this was a prayer in real time in the king's presence, offered mid-conversation without Nehemiah so much as skipping a beat. It no doubt happened silently then—a blink of the eyes and a deep breath before plunging into a response.

When I think of the kind of "praying without ceasing" that Paul talks about in his letter to the Thessalonians, this kind of breath-long Nehemiah prayer is exactly what I think of.

It's not necessarily about the length or formality of the prayer or about the words. It's also not necessarily about the continuity of praying throughout days and weeks even. It is, I think, about an unceasingly prayerful posture that defines our approach and our reaction to all of our lives.

What do I mean by that? Well, there's something about Nehemiah's posture throughout this book so far that speaks to someone who took a prayerful posture toward their life. And that's just a different way of saying that Nehemiah was unceasingly aware of, and actively attentive to God.

This is nothing that we haven't said before in these past few devotions, except that now I'm connecting the dot to prayer. Nehemiah's attention to God pervaded his life. He knew that he belonged to God. He knew that God ultimately held the power over the nations and over history. He knew that it was with God that he had to do. And that naturally meant that Nehemiah prayed, that he connected all of his life, his thoughts, and his conversations to God in prayer.

When a deep sorrow washed over him at the plight of his people, he talked to God. As he pondered what action to take, he talked it over with God. As he prepared to enter the king's presence with his request, he inquired of God. As he responded to the king in the moment, he prayed to God. Nehemiah was constantly aware of and attentive to God, such that his in-the-moment responses had turned into prayer. His life posture, was a prayerful posture.

They say that our character is what pops out of us when we hit a bump in the road. Well, what popped out of Nehemiah was prayer.

Maybe not always big or eloquent prayer—but prayer none-the-less.

Prayer is just talking with God. Sometimes nothing more than a "please, God" or a "thanks, Jesus" mid-sentence across our day is exactly the sort of thing that speaks to a prayerful posture. It's not that that's all our prayer lives should be, but that is part of it. A part of it that says: yes, throughout my day, I remember and am aware of the presence of God that actively pervades my every moment.

And, maybe that's just part of what it means to pray continually. To be always attentive to and ready to respond to God. In the big moments, and the in small ones. In dedicated times of attention and devotion, as well as in the passing moments.

So, what's your posture to life? To God? What pops out of you when you hit a bump in the road of life? Pay attention today and see. Then, let it remind you to pay attention to God as you breathe a little "thanks for the reminder, God" prayer.

"And because the gracious hand of my God was on me, the king granted my requests" (Nehemiah 2:8).

There is much to like and learn in the opening story of Nehemiah 2. We should pay attention to the things it says about God. Perhaps most obviously, it demonstrates God's power: that he is the King over all other kings. King Artaxerxes was the most powerful king of the day in the ancient Near East. But we see that God stands above him. The decisions he makes fulfil God's plans and purposes.

We like to sing about this. "Who has held the oceans in His hand, Who has numbered every grain of sand, Kings and nations tremble at His voice" (Behold our God) or "Gentiles and Jews his laws obey. All lands and nations offerings bring and, unconstrained, their homage pay to their exalted God and King" (Shout, for the blessed Jesus Reigns). These lyrics are derived from such stories.

The passage also illustrates God's presence with his people in the midst of the turbulence of life. When Nehemiah perceived that he might be in danger, his emotions and his adrenaline were running high. As Pastor Anthony said yesterday, the king could see his distress and that was dangerous. God was aware of Nehemiah's situation and responded. Here we have a close up visual of what Jesus meant when he said, "I am with you to the very end of the age" (Matthew 28:20).

We should also pay attention to Nehemiah's commitment to God's plan. He understood what God was doing and his response in the middle of this crisis showed his dedication to it. He trusted that God would bring it about. Likewise, we need to think carefully about God's revealed plans for the world and what he wants to accomplish in it. When we are making plans for our own lives, we ought to begin by leaning into God's purposes so that we can be personally involved in them. Then when difficult and frightening circumstances arise, we will be more likely to move in the best direction.

Christians today like to say that an event has been "bathed in prayer." I think this story gives us some insight into what that might mean. Nehemiah has spent about four months praying. But now that he is in front of the king, he still prayers. It was probably a very quick prayer, something like, "Lord, don't let me screw this up." Notice that it was effective.

Matthew records Jesus as saying, "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves" (10:16). It seems to me that Nehemiah offers us an example of what this might look like. We should learn from the tact and respect Nehemiah displayed. Pursuing God's purposes often involves dealing with unbelievers. Christians should always be honest and sincere; not pushy, critical, or whining.

But honesty does not always mean we need to say everything. Nehemiah was completely honest with Artaxerxes but did not mention that the city's name was Jerusalem. Further, he probably did not explain that God planned eventually to have a son of David rule the whole world from there. God's people are not to deceive, but they are to use good judgment about what information to share and when to share it. Shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.

This story shows the depth of Nehemiah's commitment and how that shaped his thoughts, behavior, and speech. As he acted in faith, God brought good results, beyond what he could have foreseen.

What conclusions should we draw? Here's a tagline I came across: "Align your desires with God's intentions—amazing things will happen".

It's a great tagline for a VBS or Sunday School curriculum.

Its also very misleading. It doesn't say, but it certainly strongly suggests that if only we can align our desires with God's, everything will turn out great. This is the kind of theology that dominates Christian publishing.

Was Stephen not aligned with God's will in Acts 7 which ends with him dead by stoning? Was the apostle Paul not aligned with God when he was shipwrecked and lashed several times? Was Jesus not aligned with God's will when he was crucified?

All three were very much in line with God's will, yet bad things happened to them.

We shouldn't make big claims about God based on one passage. We need to read the whole Bible. Then we will see that God's purposes will be accomplished. Sometimes his people will suffer, even when they are fully within his will. But that is the true test of discipleship: are will willing to suffer for God?

In the month of Nisan in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when wine was brought for him, I took the wine and gave it to the king. I had not been sad in his presence before, so the king asked me, "Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart." I was very much afraid, but I said to the king, "May the king live forever! Why should my face not look sad when the city where my ancestors are buried lies in ruins, and its gates have been destroyed by fire?" (Nehemiah 2:1-3)

In the days of the Persian Kings, there were some rules about emotions: namely, you didn't show them in front of the King. At least, not all of them. Happiness was ok. But sadness or anger or any other of the non-feel-good emotions were off limits. The King's palace was to be a place of joy and merriment where all were simply delighted to be in his presence, whether they actually were or not.

So when the King asked Nehemiah about the sadness on his face, Nehemiah was very much afraid! What would happen next? Punishment or a conversation? There was no way of knowing.

Nehemiah's prayer from chapter one had ended with a simple request, that God might grant him favor in the presence of this man (notice Nehemiah didn't call the Persian ruler a king when talking to the real King, God).

Would God, the true King, grant Nehemiah's request? There was no way of knowing.

But the time had come to find out. Nehemiah took the step of faith and trust by allowing the sadness to be seen on his face. But his faith and trust was not in the good relationship he had curried with the Persian king as a trusted royal official. His faith and trust was placed in God, the true King.

We know that's true because of what pastor Michael mentioned yesterday. Regardless of what the Persian king might or might not do, Nehemiah knew who he was and whose he was: and he was not ultimately at the mercy of the Persian king. Nehemiah was part of the people of God, the people that God had redeemed for Himself. It was with God that Nehemiah had to do. It was God who would grant success and favor or not. And it was Nehemiah's assurance of where he stood with God that granted him the boldness to defy the mask of courtly joy and seek action from the king of Persia.

In that way, the people of God have always acted strangely relative to the norms of the society in which we live. Because while we are people of our own culture and lands, we are also citizens of a different country. We claim allegiance to a different government. The kingdom of our Lord, and of His Christ. It is with Him we have to do. But He assures us too, that because of his mighty work of redemption in Christ, we may know who we are and whose we are. We are God's people, the people of the King.

We don't have to choose an identity, earn one, act one, or buy one—our identity is in Christ, and cannot be lost. This gives us freedom to live fully with all of our humanity, emotions and all, and to face the challenges of our days with an odd sense of peace, even when we are afraid.

"They are your servants and your people, whom you redeemed by your great strength and your mighty hand. Lord, let your ear be attentive to the prayer of this your servant and to the prayer of your servants who delight in revering your name" (Nehemiah 1:10-11).

In Genesis 2, the Lord God says, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him" (2:18). And before that, in Genesis 1, we read, "So God created human beings in his own likeness. He created them to be like himself. He created them as male and female" (1:27).

Beginning with these two passages, God's people have long understood that we humans were created for community. That's why solitary confinement is considered a form of punishment and many people are voicing concern that it does way more harm than good. We also understand that we find our self-identity not in isolation but in the context of our community. There is evidence that the rise of anxiety in our culture is, at least in part, due to the lack of community shaping us. Individualism, apparently, does not form healthy people.

The church understands this. That's why we have always made efforts to include children and youth in church life. We all need community and we need that community to shape us and help us form our identity. Each us of also, whether young or old, needs to shape the identity of that community. Identity is not static, but constantly shifting due to the people and the circumstances.

Well, let me hasten to rephrase that. The core of our Christian identity does not change, but how we live that out and express it as congregations does change and hopefully mature. Nehemiah gives us the essence of our identity. Let me paraphrase, "we are God's servants and God's people, whom God redeemed by his great strength and his great hand."

Nehemiah was referring back to God delivering his people from Egypt. We, of course, refer back to Christ's death and resurrection. That was the great act of God's delivering us. Because of Christ, we belong to God. We are his servants.

But we have difficulty remembering this. On the one hand we are just forgetful. On the other hand, there is a constant barrage of information tempting us to see ourselves differently.

I love the prayers of God's people recorded in the Bible. They are more daring than most of our prayers. Did Nehemiah think that God had forgotten? "These are your servants and your people, whom you redeemed…" Did God need reminding? Not likely.

But we forget. We need the Christian community to remind us of who we are. That is one reason why we gather for weekly worship services. Its also why seminarians are constantly told, "Preach Jesus." One Sunday afternoon, an elderly parishioner called me with this, "everything you said this morning was true, but a Jewish rabbi could have preached that." He had nothing against Jewish Rabbi's; he was just reminding me, with all kindness, that I was called to preach Jesus. That was a long time ago, but I won't forget.

In these lonely days of COVID; in this week after a Thanksgiving celebrated with less people than normal, we need to remember that we belong to Jesus. And here is the wonder of it, we belong to our Heavenly Father, not because we decided, but because he decided. He wanted us enough that Jesus died for us. No. He will not forget.

This prayer also reminds us of what we do. We serve God. We serve him on Sundays. But we especially serve him in the days between Sundays, in our work and our play, among our family members and among our co-workers, employers and employees.

As you journey on, remember, "We are God's servants and God's people, whom he redeemed by his great strength and his mighty hand." He will hear our prayers.

A special, extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Matthew 20:1-16 from the New International Version of the Bible.

Discussion questions for this message can be found in the bonus content!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube once the live stream is up (10am, Sunday). Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

"Remember the instruction you gave your servant Moses, saying, 'If you are unfaithful, I will scatter you among the nations, but if you return to me and obey my commands, then even if your exiled people are at the farthest horizon, I will gather them from there and bring them to the place I have chosen as a dwelling for my Name.' They are your servants and your people, whom you redeemed by your great strength and your mighty hand." (Nehemiah 1:8-10)

These are the same verses from yesterday, but today I'd like to lift up a different thread. One that Pastor Michael touched on a few days ago, but that bears repeating.

Nehemiah's prayer lives in the real world of God's kingdom.

What do I mean by that? It can be really easy to take the things that we see as if they are the things that are. We see governments in power in our country and across the border. We see the pandemic rearing up again around us. We see inequalities and hatred between peoples. We see our church building begin to open back up for in-person worship and live stream.

But not all of these things are as they appear to be. In the eyes of Nehemiah's prayer, the eyes shaped by the kingdom of God, the world looks differently.

Governments in power (whether the king of Persia or a modern day Prime Minister or President) only hold that power in so far as God grants it to them for a time—but always the Lord is the true King, the true holder of power. It was not the power of the Babylonians that exiled Israel nor the mercy of the Persians who allowed them back: it was always the Lord their God working in the events of history and through the powers of this world to accomplish the things he had decreed, as Nehemiah says.

Evil and suffering likewise, even this current pandemic, are not the way God created this world to be, and thus they are not fixed and immovable realities. Instead, evil and suffering are things that somehow, strangely God can and at some times does and at other times does not intervene in, but are things that he can and does work through and things that in the end, he will expunge from His renewed creation, because evil and suffering have never been part of his intention for life. That includes enmity and injustice between peoples: racism has no place in the kingdom of God.

As for church: it is Jesus' church. As Pastor Michael reminded us yesterday, Jesus himself has become our temple—the place where we meet with God is in and through him. And he is the one that creates, builds, sustains, and preserves his church by his own good will and pleasure for the sake of his glory. And Jesus does not only dwell inside our church buildings. He is with us wherever we are.

We are participants, and we have a place, and we are invited to put our own hands to the work of being this community of his church, but always with our eyes on Jesus, who reminds us that there is more at work than just what we see.

There are lots of worrisome things afoot right now, but through the lens of the real world, the world of the Kingdom of God: we are reminded that Jesus is still on his throne, that God is still God, and that the Spirit is still at work. That real world is our world, just, seen differently through the eyes of faith.

Nehemiah prayed to God, "You said, 'If you people are not faithful, I will scatter you among the nations. But if you return to me, I will bring you back. If you obey my commands, I will gather you together again. I will bring you back from the farthest places on earth. I will bring you to the special place where I have chosen to put my Name.' Lord, they are your people. They serve you. You used your great strength and mighty hand to set them free from Egypt" (Nehemiah 1:8-10).

Nehemiah has heard the dire reports coming from Jerusalem, the city of the returned exiles. He has sat in lament, sorrow and prayer. Such lament leads him to intercede for the community being re-established in Judea.

In his prayer, he acknowledges that this exile, which is coming to an end, was caused by Israel's sin. God had warned Israel that if they abandoned him, he would scatter them among the nations. And so, it happened.

For a variety of reasons, Christians find it tantalizing to follow Nehemiah's lead, believing any misfortune to be God's judgement on some specific sins. Thus, there are voices in the Christian community who are treating this current pandemic as such.

But I think that this is a misreading of scripture. The judgement which was the Babylonian exile is not the norm. Let me use two other stories to illustrate my point. Nehemiah makes reference to Egypt and how God used his mighty hand to free his people from there. But why was Israel in Egypt? Had they sinned in any way? Were they under God's judgement?

Not at all. No where in Genesis is there even a hint of such. Nothing in the rest of the Bible suggests this either. In fact, Joseph says that his coming to Egypt was intended by God to save many lives (Genesis 50:20). Horrible things happened to Israel in Egypt, but none of it was because of God's judgment.

We have looked at the second story during our sermon series on Acts. In Acts 11:19 we read, "Some believers had been scattered by the suffering that unbelievers had caused them. They were scattered after Stephen was killed. Those believers traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch."

Again, the suffering of God's people had nothing to do with judgement. The scattered feelings we have because of COVID are akin to the suffering of God's community in Genesis and Acts. And it is necessary to say that the scattering in Acts continues to this very day.

The story of Acts is that the Holy Spirit pushed the followers of Jesus out of Jerusalem so that they could fulfill their mission to be Jesus' witnesses to the furthest ends of the earth. Its important to see that.

Israel returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple where God was worshipped. We might be temped to do the same, to make our church buildings some sort of temple. But in the gospel of John, Jesus implies that he was the new temple (2:19). We can worship God where ever we are when we worship in his name. His promise is that he is with us there. Paul develops this temple imagery even further and declares that followers of Jesus are God's temple.

This has massive implications, one of which is this. The temple in Jerusalem was the place where God was present. So wherever Jesus followers go, God is present today. That is part of the New Testament story. This brings us back to Nehemiah and his prayer.

In the face of suffering, we tend to ask why. It is a very human question. But the more Biblical question is, 'what are we going to do in it'? John 9 illustrates this. Jesus and his disciples encounter a man born blind. The disciples want to know who sinned, him or his parents. That's a question about judgement. But Jesus replies that this is about God's glory. Then he gives the man his sight. That's the glory of God.

Nehemiah mentions, almost casually, that God's people serve him. That's a matter of glory. If we focus on the 'why' of suffering we will have wonderful philosophical conversations, but that is about it. But if we ask, "how can we serve God in the middle of this suffering?' that's a matter in which God's glory can be revealed.

We have said it before in these Wilderness Wanderings, but I think I ought to say it again. We need to ask God for our daily bread. And this is not just food, but for the space to serve others. As the second wave hits, potentially worse than the first, what the world needs desperately is the servants of God to serve him and their neighbours. We may already be tired, but we need to carry on. As Paul writes, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" (Galatians 6:9).

They said to me, "Those who survived the exile and are back in the province are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire." When I heard these things, I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven. (Nehemiah 1:3-4)

Rather than continuing on with the action of Nehemiah's story, I want to drag you back to the beginning of the book. Pastor Michael mentioned it yesterday, but it's worth coming back to again:

When Nehemiah heard the news that his people were in trouble and disgrace, and that his city's wall lay broken and burned—the first thing he did was to weep. To mourn, to fast, and to pray. Acts of slowing down and paying attention to the impact of what he'd just received. What a difference from our reactions today.

In the crazy-fast culture we live in, responses are immediate and extreme. No more than a rumor is needed to stir up a frenzy of gut-level reactions.

Something terrible occurred somewhere in the world? The positive responses immediately pour out through supportive hashtags into funding campaigns and news stories. When someone does something terrible, they can be exiled or cancelled from polite society just as fast through those same means turned cruel. But always the emphasis is on the immediacy of an active response. Something must be said or done. NOW. There's no time to sit with it, grieve, or pray through an appropriate response.

Nehemiah didn't grow up with a smartphone, of course. But there is still wisdom in his response for our digital age. Just because we can respond immediately, doesn't mean it's always the most wise course of action. Nehemiah could have responded immediately too, by marching up to the king and demanding a solution for his people and city. He was, after all, a high administrative official with the ear of the King.

But instead, Nehemiah sat and wept. He took time for the full weight of this revelation to wash over him. He didn't turn away from it or distract himself with work or busyness to ignore it. And as he paid attention to the plight of his people and place, he also brought them in an act of attention before God. He fasted and prayed as he mourned for his people: bringing their plight before God both day and night in prayers of lament.

If you remember, lament is that act of taking the evil we face seriously, taking God seriously, and then submitting ourselves and our situations to Him. Nehemiah took the time to do just that. And it did take some time. The text tells us that at least four months passed before Nehemiah would speak to the King about what was on his heart.

Now there's a lot of evil manifest in our world right now, too. Maybe some of it impacts you, maybe some of it doesn't. But there is plenty of evil to lament none-the-less as we take the evil of our world seriously before the God whose told us it's not supposed to be this way.

It is a much easier thing to pick up your phone or get online and fire off some smart posts or distract yourself from life altogether, but that response leaves us feeling more self-righteous and lonely in the long run. Lament and the acts of attention to our situations and to God that it calls us to is a much harder and time-consuming process. But, in the end, we find ourselves humbly sitting in true relationship with our God and perhaps also in better relationship with our world and neighbours too.

So, for all those places where things are not the way they are supposed to be today, and indeed there are many: will you take the time to stop and submit yourself, your attention, and these pains of the world to God in the space of lament? All the world is crying out for you to do something or say something now, but what if you began first by feeling it yourself and bringing it before God in the slow action of attention that is prayer?

I was the king's wine taster (Nehemiah 1:11).

The ending of Nehemiah 1 caught me off guard. I have read it before and I knew that Nehemiah was the king's wine taster. I knew that the wine taster was a very important person in the king's court, most likely responsible for some other very important files. In the Canadian context, Nehemiah would probably hold several significant cabinet posts.

While reading today, I focussed on Nehemiah's spiritual practices. Its an impressive read. After hearing about how poorly things are going for the returned exiles in Jerusalem, Nehemiah sits down and weeps. For several days, in fact, he is very sad and doesn't eat. Weeping and fasting: this is lament. When the COVID lockdown began, Pastor Anthony and I were preaching a series on lament and we began these devotions developing those themes.

I will not revisit all of that today, except to say that the spiritual journey with God rarely goes in a straight line. Times for lament come and go in the Christians life and the church's life. And sometimes various things are woven together. For example, I am deeply grateful that we will have members of the congregation in the building this coming Sunday morning. At the same time, I am lamenting that the sanctuary will be only 30% full and our worship will not include robust singing or fellowship.

But back to Nehemiah. Part of his lament is prayer. Even though he appears to be by himself, he has no problem praying on behalf of the entire nation of Israel. And his prayer is worth paying attention too: to help us in our praying. Like Jesus would later teach us, he begins with God. There are times when our prayers begin with our troubles, but on the whole, we need to learn to begin with God. Who are we praying to? Get that firmly fixed in our hearts and minds.

He confesses his own sins, his family's sins and the sins of the whole nation. In this instant, there is no specific list of sins, something we ought to do regularly. Nehemiah acknowledges the heart of the matter: God had given Israel commands through Moses, but Israel did her own thing. He even acknowledges that what Israel has done is evil.

We might be inclined to think that because Israel has confessed her sin, she can now expect God to do something for her, a sort of tit for tat spiritual arrangement. Israel does something good, so God ought to respond in kind. Isn't that how we often approach God?

But Nehemiah does something very different. He reminds God of God's own promises to Israel. If Israel returned to God, after experiencing his judgement, then God would return them to the land of promise. God doesn't need to respond to Israel because Israel has been good; no, Nehemiah expects God to respond to him, because God has said he would.

He does not bank of Israel's goodness to evoke divine deliverance. Israel's God, and our God, is a God who keeps his promises. This is what Nehemiah counts on. We can count on this too. Jesus said he would build his church, and so he will, even during COVID time. Nehemiah has decided to pay a visit to the king of Persia and this is all about asking God for success in his mission.

As I read through this prayer, I was impressed. But I was caught off guard by the ending, "I was the king's wine taster." By this time, I was expecting Nehemiah to be identified as a spiritual leader among the Jewish exiles. Instead, I was reminded that he held a very important position in the Persian court.

Two things struck me. First, here is a second person that God has been preparing to help re-establish his people in the promised land. Ezra had spent much of his life studying God's law. So, he was prepared to teach Israel how to obey God.

Nehemiah is an administrator in the Persian court, whom, we will discover, has the ear of the king. He has administrative skills that will be very important in re-establishing Israelite community. But he is not a Persian. Despite his position of high standing, he has obviously remained faithful to the God of Israel.

So, here is the second thing that struck me. We often say that God can use anyone for his purposes. But I'm not sure that we always believe it. As we read through this book in these devotions, we will see how God used an administrative person who had face to face contact with the king of Persia. Let that encourage us all that God can use us and let us keep our eyes open to the opportunities he gives us.

The words of Nehemiah son of Hakaliah: In the month of Kislev in the twentieth year, while I was in the citadel of Susa, Hanani, one of my brothers, came from Judah with some other men, and I questioned them about the Jewish remnant that had survived the exile, and also about Jerusalem. (Nehemiah 1:1-2)

Many churches across North America are slowly discovering that the number of those who are returning to some sort of active connection to the church community are lower, sometimes significantly lower, than the number of those who left the church buildings in "exile" at the beginning of this pandemic.

This pandemic has taken a toll on us.

It has isolated us into loneliness, it has changed our habits and behaviors, it has increased our anxieties. Even still, the pandemic threatens the routines and work and studies of our lives with impending chaos. As a second wave begins to swell, we live again under the more present threat of restrictions clamping down.

Whatever that may mean for your job, your business, your or your child's school, and your interactions with family and friends, one thing is for certain: it hasn't been easy. And it doesn't look to let up any time soon.

It's no different in our spiritual lives. Think of it: when was the last time we "communed" during communion? That is, joined together, in person, tangibly with the whole community of others to partake in the same place and at the same time in a small meal that represents to our eyes, ears, tongue, nose, and fingers the presence of our reconciling Lord among us. We haven't. Because we remain scattered. And scattered, many have lost the tangible things that kept them rooted in the faith. Not only communion, but also daily rhythms of faithfulness, the volunteer roles, the weekly community connections that aided their walk with God. And so, many have simply moved on to the pressing anxieties of the day. Many exiles may never return.

But some will. God always keeps a remnant for Himself. If you're listening to this or reading it right now, you're likely a part of that remnant.

It was that small, unimpressive and insignificant remnant—the survivors of the exile—that Nehemiah asks his brother about. That, and the tangible place where they remained: the city of Jerusalem. The people and the place. Both in relative ruins. But, both, by the grace of God, still there. Both still seen, known, and loved by God. The people, and the tangible place where they dwelt and worshiped—where they lived, studied, and worked.

As we continue to rebuild our Christian lives and worship during this COVID-tide in tangibly embodied places and habits that may only be shades of the splendor we once knew, we'll continue to take the remnant from the exile as our companions. Remembering and discovering again with them, that God is always at his work. In us, through us, and in the places where we dwell.