Knowing When to Open Up

Nehemiah 7:1-4; 1 John 4:18; Psalm 116:1-2

A lot of us remember the first time we left the children alone for an evening. We parents create checklists that know no compare—all the doors and windows to check, being sure every quirk and tweak of the alarm system is fully understood, making sure everybody knows where the list of absolutely essential phone numbers is, reviewing what to do when the dog throws up on the carpet, and the absolute, no exceptions, rule no. 1—THOU SHALT NOT OPEN THE DOOR TO ANYONE YOU DO NOT KNOW AND WHOSE IDENTITY CANNOT BE VERIFIED BY AT LEAST THREE (3) DNA SAMPLES!

It flows from our understanding that the most basic way to transform a home into a fortress is keeping the door firmly closed against all outsiders. Everybody knows and understands that—it is like the GEICO commercials you see now about getting insurance in fifteen minutes or less (“Everybody knows that, but did you know…”).

The thing is that the final, “But did you know…?” is also a piece of the faith guidance we find in the story from Nehemiah. The story starts with the lock-down—Nehemiah, leading the returned Exiles in rebuilding the city of Jerusalem, found many reasons to be very afraid of a lot of different people—there were the nomadic marauders still picking the carcass of what had been the central city in Israel even after forty years of abandonment and dissolution; there were the descendants of those left behind when the Babylonians exiled the Israelites in servitude to Babylon; and there were those who simply sought to take advantage of the beleaguered and weary recovery team. Jerusalem was a dangerous place to be. So, Nehemiah orders a strict lock-down—the doors will not be opened to anyone, and on those rare occasions when the folks inside need to go outside, the doors will only be opened for the smallest window of time. No sense taking unnecessary chances. Nehemiah could well have led a vigorous chorus or three of “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” as he issued the edict.  But the “But did you know…?” comes in a small detail—a footnote, really—to the story. Look at who gets control of the door—look at what qualifies the doorkeeper for the task. Hannaniah is the man, but he is the man because he reveals an extraordinary stance of faith. His walk with God apparently equips him to stand the constant onslaught of potential ravagers of recovering Jerusalem.

That point is worth our consideration because it immediately draws us into the context of Nehemiah.

We may not be charged with rebuilding a city (although we may feel as such as continue to clean up after the ice of a couple weeks ago), but we know what it is like to try to rebuild, restore, or reclaim stability in the midst of the chaos of being human. 

The example abound. I see this profoundly in couples making a go of a second marriage—there are so many reasons for others to meet them with abject skepticism—yet they refuse to buckle, seeking the presence of God to get them through. I see it in folks making a new start after a business failure or a sudden job end. They feel the sting of failure that challenges every piece of who they thought they were, yet through God, they find a way. I see it in churches that seek to march forward after a major conflict or upheaval in the pews. Many will counsel them that the wind may have changed, leading them to close up and scatter to new congregations, but, through God, they seek to rebuild their fellowship from the inside out. 

In all of these circumstances, Hannaniah lives. Folks walk by faith into an unknown place, assured that God will be with them and keep them as they face whatever peril might be there.

But…

That does not mean that the wise parental counsel is suddenly null and void! Yes, God gives us the courage to be within the world as it is, but you still need to know when it is best to open the door and when best to leave it locked tight.

I have not found a commentator who really wrestles with the timekeeping for opening the gates of Jerusalem other than the obvious point that it is to be when the sun stands at its zenith over the world—all light, little shadow, nowhere to hide. As we make our way through the world as it is, it is good to go with adequate lighting for the journey. We need to see where we are going; we need to see what lay in the road; and we need to see who might be alongside the road and what they might be up to as we pass. 

Faith offers us the necessary tools for seeing—perhaps not so much with our eyes as with our hearts and minds. Through God’s presence, we can be more certain about what is truly beneficial, what will further our growth as God’s children; and what will keep us out of danger. Hannaniah and all those with him will find their job easier because they will be able to more clearly see everything that is beyond the walls. They will quickly know and note when they need to slam the gates shut again. They will know surely how long the gates need to stand open. As one who walks with God, Hannaniah can also employ the wisdom of God to see things that might not be readily apparent—I do not know mean some magical x-ray vision, but rather the ability to guide those who venture among the people of the world with wisdom, guidance, and counsel to help them wade through those interactions and encounters.

So, we, too, need to know when to open the doors—when to risk opening heart and mind to the world. As we negotiate the tricky walk of creating homes and families, we should seek openness that flows from full illumination—be open with those whom you love, ask for openness in return—it is fair and right to do so. As we seek to realize our potential as children of God, openly ask for help and guidance—be clear about what you seek, where the weaknesses lay, and what trips you up. And as you engage with a community of faith, recall Christ’s wise advice to always let your yes be yes and your no be no—be real in your commitments and efforts—if someone asks you to do something, be sure you really are going to follow through before you say yes. Also seek a community that is open to its members, offering them who and what they are without glib gimmicks or appeals to their wants over their needs—seek a community that honestly lays out what it takes to be faithful in a world such as ours, and is willing to go with its members to be sure they make it. 

So, you see, mom and dad were right—only open the door at the right time. But know that God is with you always, making opening the door a far easier task—one far more secure than we might fear. 

Go with God.