Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
All the people of Israel gathered together into the square before the Water Gate. They told the scribe Ezra to bring the book of the law of Moses, which the Lord had given to Israel. Accordingly, the priest Ezra brought the law before the assembly, both men and women and all who could hear with understanding. This was on the first day of the seventh month. He read from it facing the square before the Water Gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women and those who could understand; and the ears of all the people were attentive to the book of the law. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, for he was standing above all the people; and when he opened it, all the people stood up. Then Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, "Amen, Amen," lifting up their hands. 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.
And Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites who taught the people said to all the people, "This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep." For all the people wept when they heard the words of the law. Then he said to them, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."
Qoheleth says God has set eternity in man’s heart. I wonder how eternity got there? I am inclined to think eternity entered the heart of man when God breathed into the mouth of Adam; the ruach of God did more than give life, it inspired a longing to return to its originator. The temptation of the serpent, the suggestion that eating the Fruit of Knowledge would make man “like God,” is made more seductive with man driven by the desire of the divine, the breath, the spirit, eternity compelling him to take, eat. The result, of course, is not reunification, at least not initially. Eternity is trapped within the heart of man, always seeking a manifestation of its source so that it can become whole again, if only for a time.
The early history of Israel, Genesis, records a fitful manifestation of God. God appears in visions and dreams; its purpose and meaning nebulous, vague. A voice that is heard and stirs fears of incalculable power and compels action, yet resists being known and is uncontrollable. Opportunities to be close to God, to know him, for the piece of eternity inside every man to feel whole again, are far between and marked by a frustrating distance from God. Each episode of appearance brings relief that is snatched away when God changes course, or leaves. Man cannot touch God, hold him close, or know him.
The Exodus changed everything. God manifested in power and wonder, saving his people from slavery and promising them life. At Mt. Sinai, God allowed a manifestation of his presence that was unprecedented: he gave his people the Law. More than a code of social conduct, these words, written on physical tablets, are artifacts of God’s eternal presence in the midst of its people. God gives a part of itself - the Eternal presents a piece of eternity to remain forever with those who carry his spirit. As long as those words remain on the tablets and as long as those tablets remain with the people, they will never be alone in the same way they once were. They can go and see this piece of God, its words; they can touch it, feel its shape. It will never leave them and they feel a little more whole.
But the tablets were stolen, the Law taken and with it the presence of God. The people disintegrate under the trauma of this violent rupture. Their God taken, themselves removed from their land, the words that brought them close to eternity fades from their minds. Eventually, the people returned to their land, though they thought they had forever left the Law, their only comfort in what they could remember. Their wonder, joy and relief in this week’s reading is palpable when Ezra appears on a raised dais before the people and presents the Law, in a theater reminiscent of Moses presenting the Law on the mount. The longing that grew to an unbearable ache, the desperate emptiness that haunted their memory, the desire for eternity that constantly beat in their chest finally satisfied by an upward flourish of the arms of the priest. God had returned to them.
But the Law is still just words, written in stone. These words will be repeated, remembered, retold, rewritten for generations. And just like words written in stone will fade after fingers inerable brush over them to feel connected to Eternity, so too the Law in the hearts of man. The epiphany to Israel was once a gift to provide wholeness. But any gift can be exploited, words can be twisted to reflect the needs of man instead of the person of God. The Law can be handled, used, controlled; the promise of life it gave quickly becomes a tool of death. A new epiphany is needed.