Nehemiah 10:1

In view of all this, we are making a binding agreement, putting it in writing, and our leaders, our Levites and our priests are affixing their seals to it. (Nehemiah 9:38)

Now those who placed their seal on the document were: Nehemiah the governor, the son of Hacaliah, and Zedekiah... (Nehemiah 10:1)

A binding vow, broken people, and the ruthless honesty God's temple requires.

In View of This: A Binding Agreement

Last week in chapter 9 we walked through a kind of praise-and-prayer overview of Israel's history, focusing on captivity and the people's actions. Over and over God used their captivity to turn their hearts back to Him. They strayed, times got good, they forgot God, did horrible things, were brought into captivity, cried out, drew close again, were rescued—and then forgot Him once more. The cycle repeated again and again.

The last verse of chapter 9 actually fits better here in chapter 10. It says, "In view of this, we are making a binding agreement in writing on a sealed document." In light of everything they had learned about their ancestors' inability to keep their vows, they made a vow—but this time they signed it and made it official, so they wouldn't break it. Nehemiah the governor, Zedekiah, and eighty-four others put their seals to it.

Here is the dilemma of broken people and broken vows. We want the solemnity and the perceived power of a strong agreement, but broken people create broken promises. Are we really more likely to keep a solemn vow than an ordinary decision?

What Is a Vow?

Webster defines a vow as "a solemn promise or assertion, specifically one by which a person is bound to an act, a service, or a condition." In the Bible it is generally a conscious, deliberate promise to do something, sometimes conditioned by an "if."

The elements of a vow we see in Scripture are these: a penalty for breaking it; an implied ability to perform it (you can't vow to fly); a verbal assent—a "yes, I will"; and the fact that it's witnessed by others. Think of a wedding. To fulfill the marriage vow you really need only three things: the question ("do you want to get married?"), the verbal assent ("I do"), and a witness. You don't need dresses, cakes, crowds, organs, or doves. Everything else is icing on the cake.

What situations require a vow? Usually something important, something with public scrutiny, something where there's a lack of trust, or where there's responsibility and recourse. And generally, the more risk involved, the more paperwork. Buy a house and you'll sign your name 142 times—and yet, with all that paperwork, no one has ever defaulted on a home loan, right? Remember 2008, when people walked away from homes after the crash? A vow is only as good as the people making it, and sometimes conditions change.

Who Made the Vow, and What They Promised

Skipping the list of names, verse 28 tells us who made this vow: the priests, Levites, gatekeepers, singers, and temple servants, along with their wives, sons, and daughters—"everyone who is able to understand." That phrase stuck out to me: all who were present and qualified, who understood and could say, "Yes, I get it."

What did they vow? To follow the law of God given through Moses and to obey all the commands, ordinances, and statutes of the LORD. What were the chances they could pull it off? In the previous chapter they had recounted five specific times Israel broke their covenant—plus "many other times." It's not looking good. By chapter 13 it will become abundantly clear how this goes.

Do Not Intermarry: Unequal Yoking

In verse 30 we get the details, the things they considered important enough to single out. First: "We will not give our daughters in marriage to the surrounding peoples and will not take their daughters as wives for our sons." Exodus 34:15 warned that intermarrying with pagan peoples would lead their sons and daughters to prostitute themselves to foreign gods.

It's a good thing we don't have to worry about foreign gods anymore, right? Nobody's going door-to-door saying, "We've got this Baal we'd love you to check out." But the principle stands. Look at 2 Corinthians 6:14:

Do not be yoked together with those who do not believe. For what partnership is there between righteousness and lawlessness? Or what fellowship does light have with darkness?

If we join ourselves to someone with different beliefs, morals, and goals, we will be moved from our own. Relationships are hard enough between believers. When we compromise, we always drift closer together and further from where we started. Small compromises over time make massive changes. Maybe we'll go to church every other week, then once a month—and pretty soon you wonder, "How did I get here?"

So the first question for your outline: Where am I friends with an enemy of God? And the follow-up: What are the things God hates that I don't? It's a scary thing to discover that, by my words or actions, I don't hate something as much as God does.

A Parenting Question

This text also has a parenting aspect. Nothing is more long-lasting than our descendants. My house will eventually fall to ruin, but my children, grandchildren, and their children after them will most likely keep going. Am I training my children in these ways? James 4:4 says, "Friendship with the world is hostility toward God." Are we teaching our children that compromise with the world is acceptable—not in words, but in our actions?

I was a youth pastor for just north of twenty years. When I started, Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights were holy days; schools didn't schedule practices then. Now we practice five nights a week, and Sunday mornings fill up with travel ball. What have we taught our kids? That for "really good reasons"—ten-year-olds playing soccer—we don't have to gather with the body of Christ. Consider, too, the media, music, movies, and the way we handle money. All of these preach to our kids.

So question two: Does my parenting reflect my stated beliefs? If you have kids, this question is painful. If you don't yet, write it down and save it for later—you'll understand once your field of vision expands.

The Sabbath: From Blessing to Burden

Verse 31 says, "When the surrounding peoples bring merchandise or any kind of grain to sell on the Sabbath day, we will not buy from them on the Sabbath or a holy day. We will also leave the land uncultivated in the seventh year and will cancel every debt."

I went to college in Sioux Center, Iowa, in the early '90s. On a Sunday only one gas station was open, and it was outside town. Restaurants were closed; you didn't go shopping. If you broke the Sabbath, it was evident—people on their way to church could see your car filling up at that one station outside town. Was that right? I don't know. But it was visible, and people watched.

The Sabbath was modeled by God in creation: one day in seven, He rested. For Israel it was a day of rest and reflection, no work beyond survival, meant as a blessing pointing toward the rest found in Jesus. But over time it became a burden, a complication, a way of crushing sinners and elevating the Pharisees. They invented the "Sabbath day's journey"—the distance you could walk before it became work—and then found loopholes: since "anywhere you eat is your home," you could carry a lunch, eat at the boundary, declare that spot home, and walk another Sabbath's distance.

We still see this today. I was watching the Property Brothers, and one house had two complete kitchens. It was an Orthodox Jewish home—one kitchen always kosher, one not, because you can't make cheeseburgers in the holy kitchen. Do you see how the Sabbath becomes crushing? It's no longer rest; it's fifty-five things to remember so you don't break it. What God meant as comfort became a tool for leaders to dominate God's people.

Finding Rest in Jesus

In the New Testament, Jesus is our Sabbath; He is our rest. The purpose of the Sabbath was to point to Him, but the procedure—setting time apart—is still important to maintain that connection. If we don't set time for what's important, it gets eaten up by what we merely need to do. One day in seven is the model. Do we always manage it? No. But we should aim for it.

If we don't build in Jesus' rest, we burn ourselves out and burn down those around us. We get short-tempered, smart-mouthed, dejected, numb to others' needs. Our culture loves the grind and the hustle; rest is "for the weak." Then, when burnout hits, our culture cries out for "self-care"—but that's selfish care, pampering the flesh, not resting in Jesus. We need communion with our Savior, whether by hiking or by going to church and sharing a meal with family. And beware turning Jesus into an excuse to overwork; that makes us pharisaical in a heartbeat. God rested during creation, and creation was just Him speaking. Our work is taxing, and the world drags us constantly away from Him.

So question three: How am I finding Sabbath rest? If you don't look for it, you won't find it—and if you don't find it, the need will find you, often catastrophically.

Offerings: Time, Talent, and Treasure

The vow continues with offerings—silver, bread, grain, burnt offerings, Sabbath and new moon offerings, festivals, sin offerings, wood for the altar, first fruits, the firstborn of their children and livestock—and a schedule for bringing them in. Yes, it's a tithing message. It's in the text. Try to come along with me.

This section lists ten different offerings. On Sundays we generally do one, so you may feel ten times behind. We tend to reduce tithing to just money, as though we're a money farm—which is ridiculous, because your time and talents are far more valuable than money. God has infinite resources. Are you giving out of your time and talents, not just your treasure?

Some say tithing is old covenant and no longer required. But Paul talks about this. In 2 Corinthians 9 we learn that God loves a cheerful giver and that what we give is related to what we receive—and that's New Testament. Now, this is easily twisted into "name it and claim it." I once got a "power of God cross" from Reverend Ike—wrap money around it, sleep on it, send it back, and supposedly get rich. That's abuse of the text. It's really about an offering to God, who gives back more than we can imagine.

Matthew 6:19 tells us to store treasure in heaven, not on earth, for what we treasure is what our heart values. Actually, our heart values what we make our treasure. When I became a grandparent, my whole perspective changed; suddenly I was thinking further down the line: What can I do to make sure my granddaughter walks with Jesus? My treasure is my children and grandchildren. My wife and I follow Jesus, we've raised five kids who follow Jesus, and when they each have children—imagine the effect, a Holy Spirit pyramid scheme that changes the world.

In Matthew 23:23 Jesus rebukes the Pharisees for meticulously tithing even their seeds while neglecting justice, mercy, and faithfulness. He doesn't tell them to stop tithing—that's important—but it's not enough to plunk your money down. In Mark 12:41–44 the rich threw their coins loudly into the metal horn, but Jesus commended the widow who gave a tiny coin, because she gave everything she had. It's not about how much you gave, but how much you have left.

So question four: What treasure am I cheerfully giving to God, and what treasures am I hiding from Him? What's easy for you to give, and what's hard—your time, your money, whatever your hangup is? God is faithful to show you, if you're willing to ask.

Why Make Vows at All?

So the children of Israel made a covenantal vow with God. Will they keep it? No. Within a few chapters the Levites have gone home, the enemies of God are living in the temple, trade is happening on the Sabbath, and the people stop bringing their offerings. Nehemiah was gone perhaps ten years, and everything they vowed was gone. And we do so much better, right?

If we can't keep our vows, why bother making them? Ecclesiastes 5 says, "When you make a vow to God, don't delay fulfilling it... Better that you do not vow than that you vow and not fulfill it." Numbers 30:2 says keep your vow. Deuteronomy 23:21–23 says keep it quickly—but verse 22 adds, "If you refrain from making a vow, it will not be counted against you as sin." So don't make unnecessary promises.

Husbands, I'll just confess this about myself: I have a tendency to tell my wife "yes" on things I have no real intention or ability to do, just to protect my pride or avoid an argument. Forgive me, Lord. Don't make vows you don't intend to keep. In Matthew 5, Jesus says, "Do not take an oath at all... Let your yes be yes and your no be no. Anything more than this is from the evil one." And Leviticus 5 says that if you make a vow you can't keep, confess it, and make a guilt offering.

So is there a point to vows? Yes. Our society, our relationships, and our walk with God are built on trust. We trust that God will be faithful even when we cannot be perfectly faithful. A vow creates a bond of trust and gives us an aim. Consider the most common vow—the wedding vow: "to love, honor, and cherish, forsaking all others, as long as we both shall live." We won't do it perfectly, but it gives us the goal and the fences. Married couples tend to live longer; the relationship is deeper because of the expectation of stability and permanence. Not vowing anything is no way to live—but neither is vowing constantly. As that great prophet of old, Turbo Man in Jingle All the Way, reminded us: always keep your promises if you want to keep your friends.

"We Will Not Neglect the House of Our God"

The vow ends: "We will not neglect the house of our God." They recognized that God's presence was vital, and that without Him they would be captured and enslaved. Their provision, protection, and guidance all came from there.

Now look at 1 Corinthians 6:19–20:

Don't you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God with your body.

We are the temple of the Holy Spirit. How have we neglected the house of God? Is there a portion of our temple that needs to be renovated?

So question five, the final one—write it down, memorize it, email it to yourself so you see it on Monday: Where am I neglecting the house of the Lord, and when I find neglect, what do I need to do?

Be Ruthless About What's in the Temple

It helps me to think of it like a physical house. I've had three slab leaks; when a tile feels warm under my foot, it gets my attention, because I know what it means—breaking up the foundation, digging down, finding the pipe, hearing the insurance company say they won't fully cover it. We are ruthless about our own homes. A slab leak, a roof leak, termites—we fix it, we tent the house and poison everything that doesn't belong.

We need to be that ruthless with the temple of the Holy Spirit within us. There are things in there—in you and in me—that need to go. Ask God, "Where am I neglecting Your temple? What is going on in my heart and mind that needs to stop?" Then take the steps to fix it. And if you can't fix it yourself—just as I won't mess with plumbing or electricity because I'll only cause more trouble—get help. Get a strong brother or sister to walk with you. But be ruthless, because if we let things fester, bad things follow.

Here's a preview of chapter 13. Nehemiah returns after being away, and the people are buying and selling on the Sabbath again. Worse, Tobiah—whom they'd thrown out chapters ago—is now living in the storerooms of the temple. Those storerooms held the offerings meant to provide for the Levites. With Tobiah there, the Levites have no provision, so they've gone home to farm and shepherd to survive. With the Levites gone, the people can't bring their offerings or find atonement, and there's no one to remind them not to buy and sell on the Sabbath. So they fall into iniquity.

All of it traces back to one thing: the high priest allowed Tobiah—some fellowship between light and darkness—to live in the house of the Lord. That one compromise displaced the food, which displaced the Levites, which left the people without instruction, which led to iniquity. What didn't seem like a big deal at the beginning became a huge deal at the end. Be ruthless about what is in the temple, because out of it flows everything else.

So, once more: where am I neglecting the house of the Lord? I pray you'll make this your prayer—and when God answers it, that you'll be ruthless in fixing it.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, I pray that You would reveal to us where we are neglecting the house of the Lord—where things are going on that shouldn't, where we are allowing things that shouldn't be there. Help us to identify those things, Lord, and then to fix them. Help us to confess them to You, to give them to You, and to take the safeguards to protect ourselves from them coming back. Forgive us where we have fallen short, where we have allowed those things to come live in the temple.

Lord, as You are faithful to reveal those things to us, provide the comfort, strength, and motivation for us to deal with it. And if it's too much for us, help us to have the courage and humility to reach out and ask for help—whether asking someone to pray, filling out a prayer card, or seeking counsel. Help us not to be so prideful that we can't address what's going on.

Father, be glorified in Your people. Thank You that You make Your home within us, that the Holy Spirit lives in our hearts—what an amazing thing. Help us to remember how holy that is and to treat it that way. Thank You, Jesus, for all You've done; forgive us where we fall short, strengthen us while we're doing well, and thank You that we can find our rest in You. We pray these things in Your name, Amen.

God bless you. I know this can seem heavy, but remember that Sabbath, sacrifice, and the temple all work together in our lives. Kept in the right order, they bring joy, strength, and all kinds of good things. As you ask these questions of yourself, I pray they help you get those things in order. Love you—have a great week.