The Strong Joy Text: Nehemiah 8:9-12
Introduction: The Sin of Somber Piety
We live in an age that is deeply confused about happiness. On the one hand, our secular culture chases after it like a dog chasing its tail, with a frantic hedonism that always leaves it empty. On the other hand, a significant portion of the Christian church has grown suspicious of joy. We have embraced a kind of starched, somber piety, where holiness is measured by the length of one's face and the number of things one frowns upon. We have come to believe that the more serious a Christian is, the less he will laugh. We have equated reverence with gloom and conviction with a permanent state of spiritual hand-wringing.
Into this confusion, Nehemiah 8 lands like a thunderclap. Here we have a scene of the most profound spiritual gravity. The exiles have returned to Jerusalem. The wall, a massive undertaking of faith and labor, has been completed. And now, the people have gathered for the reading of the Word. Ezra the scribe stands on a wooden platform and reads the Law of Moses from morning until midday. This is not a seeker-sensitive service with skits and lattes. This is the unvarnished Word of God being proclaimed to a people who have for generations neglected it.
And what is the result? The people weep. This is a right and proper reaction. When the perfect law of God shines its light into the dark corners of the human heart, the result is conviction. They saw the holiness of God and their own profound failure to measure up. Their tears were good tears, tears of repentance, tears of a tender conscience. But then the leadership does something astonishing. Nehemiah, Ezra, and the Levites tell them to stop crying. They command them to knock it off. And not only that, they command them to throw a party. This is a profound reversal of our expectations, and it teaches us a fundamental truth about the nature of our faith. Conviction of sin is meant to be the doorway into the house, not a permanent residence on the front porch in the rain.
This passage is a divine rebuke to all forms of joyless religion. It shows us that true, biblical piety is not a funeral procession but a festival. And the fuel for this festival is not cheap emotionalism or positive thinking, but a deep, doctrinal understanding of the Word of God.
The Text
Then Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites, who provided the people with understanding, said to all the people, "This day is holy to Yahweh your God; do not mourn or weep." For all the people were weeping when they heard the words of the law.
Then he said to them, "Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of Yahweh is your strength."
So the Levites quieted all the people, saying, "Be still, for the day is holy; do not be grieved."
Then all the people went away to eat, to drink, to send portions, and to celebrate with great gladness, because they understood the words which had been made known to them.
(Nehemiah 8:9-12 LSB)
Right Tears, Wrong Time (v. 9)
We begin with the people's reaction and the leadership's surprising correction.
"Then Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites, who provided the people with understanding, said to all the people, 'This day is holy to Yahweh your God; do not mourn or weep.' For all the people were weeping when they heard the words of the law." (Nehemiah 8:9 LSB)
The first thing to notice is that the people's weeping was a direct result of hearing the words of the law. The Word of God did its work. As the apostle Paul tells us, "through the law comes the knowledge of sin" (Romans 3:20). For the first time in a long time, the people saw God's perfect standard laid out before them, and they were undone. They saw generations of covenant unfaithfulness. They saw their own personal sin in high definition. These were not crocodile tears; this was genuine, heartfelt conviction.
And yet, the unified leadership, from the governor to the priest to the teachers, gives a clear command: stop it. "Do not mourn or weep." Why? Was their repentance invalid? No. The reason is given plainly: "This day is holy to Yahweh your God." A holy day is a day set apart. It is a day that belongs to God, and its activities are to be governed by His character and His commands for that day. In this case, the day was a festival, a day for covenant renewal and celebration. To continue mourning would be to misunderstand the purpose of the day. It would be like wearing black to a wedding. The tears of repentance were the appropriate entry fee, but once inside, they were commanded to join the celebration.
This is a crucial lesson for us. There is a time for godly sorrow, a time to weep over our sin. But that sorrow is not the final word. Repentance is not about wallowing in our guilt; it is about turning from our sin to God. And what do we find when we turn to God? We find a feast prepared. To remain in a state of perpetual grief is to insult the host who has invited you to the party. It is to fixate on your unworthiness instead of on His gracious provision.
A Command to Feast (v. 10)
The command then moves from the negative prohibition to a positive, glorious injunction.
"Then he said to them, 'Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of Yahweh is your strength.'" (Nehemiah 8:10 LSB)
This is one of the great anti-ascetic verses in all of Scripture. The command is not to go fast and pray, but to go and feast. "Eat of the fat, drink of the sweet." This is not a command for bread and water. This is a command for rich food and celebratory drink. This is prime rib and cheesecake. God is not a cosmic stoic. He is the author of every good gift, including the gift of taste buds and the rich bounty of creation. He commands His people to delight in His provision. The holiness of the day is expressed through glad-hearted feasting.
But notice that this feasting is not a selfish, individualistic affair. It is immediately tied to generosity: "and send portions to him who has nothing prepared." True biblical joy is never miserly. It is expansive and open-handed. A heart that has been filled with the gladness of God's grace cannot help but overflow to others. This is diaconal feasting. The celebration must include the poor, the marginalized, the one who could not afford to bring anything to the party. Our joy is shown to be genuine when it is a shared joy. A church that truly understands grace will be a ridiculously generous church.
And then we come to the anchor of it all: "for the joy of Yahweh is your strength." This is the foundation for the command. Do not be grieved. Why? Because your strength is not found in your grief. Your strength is not found in your repentance, or your resolutions, or your spiritual disciplines, as important as those are. Your strength is the joy of the Lord.
The Joy-Fortress (v. 10b-11)
Let us zero in on this monumental statement.
"...for the joy of Yahweh is your strength." So the Levites quieted all the people, saying, "Be still, for the day is holy; do not be grieved." (Nehemiah 8:10b-11 LSB)
What does it mean that the joy of Yahweh is our strength? The word for strength here is ma'oz. It means a fortress, a stronghold, a place of refuge. This is a military term. It is a place you run to when the enemy is attacking. So, what is our fortress? It is the joy of the Lord.
But whose joy is it? The grammar points primarily not to our joy in God, but to God's own joy. It is the joy that belongs to Yahweh. What is God's joy? It is His eternal, unassailable, sovereign delight in His own glory, His own Son, and His own redemptive plan. It is the joy that caused Christ to endure the cross (Hebrews 12:2). It is the joy the Father has in His beloved Son. It is the joy that God has in redeeming a people for Himself. Our strength, our fortress, is found when we stop looking at our own pathetic and fluctuating emotional states and look instead to the objective, unchanging, triumphant joy of God Himself. We are strong when we enter into His joy.
The Levites act as good pastors here. They quiet the people. They tell them to "be still." In the midst of their emotional turmoil, their grief and conviction, the Levites apply this great doctrinal truth. Be still. Stop the frantic internal churn. Stop navel-gazing. Look outside of yourselves to God. Do not be grieved, because the day is holy, and the joy of the Lord is your fortress.
The Fruit of Understanding (v. 12)
The final verse shows us the result of this pastoral instruction and the people's obedient response.
"Then all the people went away to eat, to drink, to send portions, and to celebrate with great gladness, because they understood the words which had been made known to them." (Nehemiah 8:12 LSB)
The people obeyed. They did exactly as they were commanded. They went from weeping to feasting. They went from mourning to celebrating. And notice the description of their celebration: "great gladness." This was not a reluctant, forced happiness. It was a genuine, deep-seated joy.
And the text gives us the explicit reason for this great gladness. It was not because the music was good, or because they had a charismatic speaker, or because they worked themselves into an emotional state. Their great gladness came "because they understood the words which had been made known to them."
This is absolutely central. Biblical joy is not a feeling detached from truth. It is a direct consequence of understanding doctrine. They understood the Law, which led to conviction. But they also understood the words of grace spoken by their leaders, which led to celebration. They understood that the same God who gave the Law also provided the covenant, the sacrifices, and the promise of mercy. True, lasting, durable Christian joy is always a doctrinal joy. It is the joy that comes from knowing who God is, what He has done, and what He has promised. If you want to be a joyful Christian, you must be a theological Christian. Doctrine is the firewood for the bonfire of doxology.
Conclusion: Feasting in the Face of the Law
This scene in Jerusalem is a beautiful picture of the gospel. We, like the Israelites, stand before the perfect Law of God, and if we have an honest bone in our bodies, our reaction must be weeping. The Law shows us our sin. It condemns us. It shuts every mouth and holds the whole world accountable to God (Romans 3:19).
But the gospel does not leave us there, weeping in the public square. The gospel says, "This day is holy! It is the day of salvation." The gospel commands us, "Stop mourning. Do not be grieved. Go, eat the fat and drink the sweet." We are commanded to feast at the table prepared for us by Another. Jesus Christ has fulfilled the Law. He has borne its curse. He is the host of the feast, and He invites us to come and eat and drink freely.
The Lord's Supper is our Nehemiah 8 feast. We come, acknowledging the words of the Law that condemn us. But we do not stay there. We are told that this day is holy, set apart by the death and resurrection of Jesus. We eat the bread and drink the wine, not because we are worthy, but because He is gracious. And we find that the joy of the Lord, His triumphant joy in His finished work, truly is our fortress. It is our strength against our sin, our doubts, and the accusations of the devil.
Therefore, let us be a people of great gladness. Not a silly, superficial gladness, but a gladness rooted in the deep soil of biblical truth. Let us be a people who understand the words that have been made known to us, and because we understand them, let us eat, and drink, and send portions to others, living as a feasting people in a world starving for real joy.