Ashamed of Horses: The Integrity of Faith Text: Ezra 8:21-23
Introduction: When Your Walk Contradicts Your Talk
We live in an age where the watching world is convinced that Christians are hypocrites. And we must confess, with no small amount of shame, that they often have a point. We say that God is sovereign, but we live in constant, white-knuckled anxiety over the next election. We say that God will provide, but we are consumed with materialistic worry. We say that God is our shield, but we place our ultimate trust in our alarm systems, our insurance policies, and our retirement accounts. We have our doctrinal statements, and then we have our real-world operating systems, and the two rarely seem to sync up.
The world sees this. The world is not stupid. They hear our grand pronouncements about our great God, and then they watch us act just like them, scrambling for the same visible, tangible securities they trust in. And when they see this, they draw the logical conclusion: our God must not be very great after all. If He were, His people would act like it. Our functional atheism nullifies our formal testimony.
This is the precise crisis that Ezra faces in our text today. He is a man of God, a scribe skilled in the Law, leading a caravan of God's people on a dangerous, four-month trek from Babylon to Jerusalem. The road is infested with bandits and enemies. The caravan is laden with gold, silver, and precious vessels for the Temple, not to mention the most precious cargo of all, their wives and children. By any worldly calculation, to attempt this journey without a military escort would be reckless, irresponsible, and insane. The pagan king, Artaxerxes, would have gladly provided one. But Ezra has a problem. It is a problem of integrity. He has been running his mouth, you see. He has been testifying to this powerful king about the great and good hand of Yahweh, and now his actions are about to be put to the test. This is where the rubber of theology meets the road of reality, and Ezra knows that a watching world is waiting to see if he will swerve.
The Text
Then I called for a fast there at the river of Ahava, that we might humble ourselves before our God to seek from Him a direct journey for us, our little ones, and all our possessions. For I was ashamed to ask from the king for a military force and horsemen to help us against the enemy on the way, because we had said to the king, "The hand of our God is upon all those who seek Him, for their good, but His strength and His anger are against all those who forsake Him." So we fasted and sought our God concerning this matter, and He was moved by our entreaty.
(Ezra 8:21-23 LSB)
The Posture of Dependence (v. 21)
Ezra's response to this high-stakes situation is not to scheme, panic, or hedge his bets. His first move is to get low.
"Then I called for a fast there at the river of Ahava, that we might humble ourselves before our God to seek from Him a direct journey for us, our little ones, and all our possessions." (Ezra 8:21)
Notice the first action: a fast. Fasting is not a spiritual hunger strike designed to manipulate God into giving us what we want. It is a physical declaration of a spiritual reality. It is to say with your whole body what you believe in your heart: "God, my need for You is greater than my need for bread. Our safe passage is more important than our daily food. We are weak. We are vulnerable. We are utterly dependent on You." Fasting is the gut-level confession that we are not self-sufficient. It strips away the comforts and distractions of the flesh and sharpens our focus on the only thing that matters, which is the favor and protection of Almighty God.
The purpose of the fast was "that we might humble ourselves." The Hebrew here means to afflict oneself. This is not about self-flagellation or earning brownie points with God. It is about intentionally taking the low place. Pride relies on visible strength, on horses and horsemen. Humility acknowledges its own inadequacy and looks to the invisible God. Before they could ask God to protect them, they had to confess that they could not protect themselves.
And their request was wonderfully specific and practical. They sought a "direct journey." The Hebrew is literally a "straight way." They were asking God to clear the path of all ambushes and obstacles. And for whom? "For us, our little ones, and all our possessions." This is not an abstract prayer for nebulous spiritual blessings. This is a father and a leader praying for the safety of his children and the security of the goods entrusted to him. Our faith is meant to be lived out in the grit and grime of the real world, with real dangers, real children, and real stuff. God is not too holy to be bothered with the logistics of your road trip or the security of your home. He invites us to bring our specific, concrete needs to Him.
The Crisis of God's Reputation (v. 22)
Here we get to the heart of the matter. Why not just ask for the soldiers? It would have been the sensible, prudent, responsible thing to do. Verse 22 gives us the stunning reason.
"For I was ashamed to ask from the king for a military force and horsemen to help us against the enemy on the way, because we had said to the king, 'The hand of our God is upon all those who seek Him, for their good, but His strength and His anger are against all those who forsake Him.'" (Ezra 8:22 LSB)
Ezra was ashamed. This is a holy shame. It is not the shame of personal failure, but the shame of potentially misrepresenting God. He was jealous for the reputation of Yahweh before a pagan monarch. He had been evangelizing King Artaxerxes. He had laid out the central principle of the covenant: there are two ways to live. You can seek God, and find yourself under the good hand of His blessing and protection. Or you can forsake God, and find yourself under the heavy hand of His strength and His anger.
This is a magnificent, black-and-white declaration. There is no middle ground. God's hand is either for you or against you. Ezra had preached this bold, uncompromising truth to the most powerful man on earth. And now, the sermon was over, and it was time for the application. Imagine the scene. Ezra goes back to the king's throne room. "O great King Artaxerxes, remember all that stuff I said about my all-powerful God whose good hand protects His people? Well, about that... could we get a few hundred of your horsemen for the trip? Just to be safe."
The king's conclusion would be immediate and devastating. He would think, "This man's God is a part-time deity. He is a god of the temple, a god of the scrolls, but on the open road, it is the Persian cavalry that gets the job done." Ezra's request for an escort would have been a vote of no confidence in his own God. It would have told the king that Yahweh's "good hand" was not quite good enough. Ezra was ashamed to have his actions shout a lie that his words had proclaimed as truth. The integrity of his witness was at stake, because the reputation of his God was at stake.
The Prayer That Moves God (v. 23)
Faced with this choice between worldly prudence and godly integrity, Ezra chose the path of radical trust. And he led his people to do the same.
"So we fasted and sought our God concerning this matter, and He was moved by our entreaty." (Ezra 8:23 LSB)
The word "so" is the logical hinge of the entire passage. Because Ezra was ashamed to dishonor God, so he chose to depend on God. His theology drove his piety. His concern for God's glory dictated his course of action. They didn't just hope for the best. They got on their faces. They fasted and they sought their God. They put all their eggs in God's basket, and then they prayed fervently over that basket.
And look at the result. "He was moved by our entreaty." The Hebrew here is passive. It could be translated, "He let Himself be entreated by us." This is a beautiful picture of prayer. We do not force God's hand. We do not overcome His reluctance. Rather, a humble, dependent, faith-filled plea is the very thing that God has ordained to be the means by which He moves. He delights to be trusted. He loves to respond to the prayers of a people who have staked everything on His character and His promises. God heard their prayer, and as the rest of the chapter tells us, "the hand of our God was upon us, and He delivered us from the hand of the enemy and from ambush along the way" (Ezra 8:31). God vindicated their faith, and His reputation was magnified, not just among the Israelites, but surely in the courts of Persia as well.
Conclusion: Whose Horses Do You Trust?
The dilemma of Ezra is our dilemma every day. We all have a King Artaxerxes in our lives, a watching world that has heard our testimony. It might be your boss, your unbelieving neighbor, your secular university professor, or your own children. We tell them that God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. We tell them that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. We tell them that our God owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
And then the stock market dips, and they see us panic. A frightening medical diagnosis comes, and they see us despair. The political winds shift, and they see us consumed by rage and fear. Our actions preach a sermon that is far louder than our words, and that sermon is often this: "My God is good for Sunday mornings, but on Monday, I trust in the horses and chariots of Egypt."
Ezra teaches us that there is a godly shame, a holy concern for the consistency of our witness. He teaches us that the safest place to be is the place of utter dependence on God, even when it looks foolish to the world. He shows us that fasting and prayer are not pious add-ons for the super-spiritual; they are the primary weapons for the people of God who are serious about living by faith.
We are on a far more dangerous journey than Ezra's. We are pilgrims heading to a heavenly city, and the road is filled with spiritual enemies who seek to destroy us. We have our little ones and our possessions to protect. And we have a King who has given us a promise, not of horsemen, but of His own presence. "I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Jesus Christ is our escort. The Holy Spirit is our guide. The good hand of our God is upon us.
Let us therefore resolve to live lives of rugged, joyful, and consistent dependence on Him. Let us be ashamed to trust in the king's cavalry when we have the King of Kings on our side. Let us fast, and let us pray, and let us seek our God, so that the watching world might see our good works, and our good God, and glorify our Father who is in Heaven.