Brief Reflection on Exile, and Ezra and Nehemiah

This past week we started our bible study on Ezra and Nehemiah. And we had a wonderful discussion about the history that leads us to, and surrounds, these important biblical books. One of the things that I have been sitting with since our conversation Tuesday night is the theological implications of these two books in our Hebrew scriptures.

Ezra and Nehemiah capture the deep emotional and theological significance of returning to a sacred place of worship after exile. For the Israelites, the Babylonian exile was not just a political displacement but a spiritual crisis—their identity as God’s chosen people was deeply tied to the land and, most importantly, to the Temple in Jerusalem. The return from exile, then, was not exclusively about reclaiming lost territory but about reestablishing their covenant relationship with God. The rebuilding of the Temple in Ezra and the restoration of Jerusalem’s walls in Nehemiah symbolize renewal, hope, and divine faithfulness. The people’s collective repentance, as seen in their public confession of sins, reflects their recognition that exile was a consequence of turning away from God. Yet, God’s mercy allows them to return, rebuild, and rededicate themselves to worship in the very place where His presence once dwelled.

Theologically, these books emphasize God’s sovereignty and faithfulness in restoring God’s people despite their past failures. Worship in a holy place is not only about physical presence but about spiritual renewal, a theme echoed in the people's emotions as they hear the law read once again. A law that had been forgotten. The tears of the elders who had seen the former Temple (Ezra 3:12) and the joyful celebrations of those witnessing the new one highlight the bittersweet nature of restoration—grief over what was lost yet gratitude for what is being restored. Nehemiah’s leadership in rebuilding the city walls also signifies more than security; it represents the reestablishment of a people who can worship freely and live according to God’s commandments.

In these narratives, and for us as well, worship is an act of remembrance, a reclaiming of divine promise, and an affirmation that, no matter how far they had been scattered, God remained their refuge and strength, always calling them home. Imagine for a moment not being able to worship at St Paul’s for twenty years (just throwing a random number out there). Imagine that we weren’t allowed into the building and all the the liturgical vessels, like chalices, patons, and vestments we locked away in a room somewhere by a foreign king. Now imagine, after this long absence, the doors to St Paul’s were opened, the liturgical vessels returned, and for the first time we all are able to worship together. Imagine how emotional that would be, how important it would be to worship and share a meal together after this long absence. This is what these people felt when they were able to come home, to worship in their own space, with their own people. This is not only a great example of what it means to be ‘restored’, it also helps us reflect on the importance of people and place in our worship. The liturgy is very important, but what makes the liturgy possible is the community that we partake of this meal with, and the smells, and bells, and place where we do it. Ezra and Nehemiah serves as an example of those wise words of Joni Mitchell, “Oh, Don’t it seem to go, you don't know what you got till it's gone.”