Every November we have our season of remembrance. It begins with All Saints Day on the 1st – a chance to remember the global church – moves through Bonfire Night and concludes with Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day, when we remember the impact of war, and rededicate ourselves to the cause of peace. Remembering is important, and necessary; it forms a major theme of scripture. Time and again, God’s people are called to remember – their God, their history, their unfaithfulness, God’s faithfulness – because our memory is our identity.
What’s interesting, though, is that it’s not always one-way traffic. In fact, in the Psalms, the great ‘book of remembering,’ there are more references to God remembering us (16) than the other way round (11). God, of course, unlike us does not have a problem with memory – but calling this to mind serves in the Psalms as both a wonderful affirmation of faith, and a heartfelt prayer.
Perhaps it is no surprise to find Nehemiah concluding his own story in similar terms. As we observed a couple of days ago, chapter 13 is a sobering way to finish the tale, and what punctuates this last part of the story is that simple prayer: ‘Remember me, my God.’ Nehemiah increasingly feels like King Cnut, endlessly trying to push back the unstoppable tide of disobedience and spiritual apathy. After all his endeavours, all he can cry out is: ‘Remember me, my God.’
I think the pattern of these prayers is significant, too. Someone once observed to me that most people start as Arminians and end up as Calvinists; it’s a posh way of saying that when we’re young, we think faith is all about us, about how much we can do for the Lord. As we get older though, increasingly we realise how reliant we are on the grace of God. We become – painfully and joyfully – conscious that it’s all grace. It’s not about us, it’s about God.
Nehemiah’s final reflections seem to follow this pattern. Look how they start: (v14) ‘Remember me for… what I have so faithfully done.’ Then (v22): ‘Remember me… show mercy to me according to your great love.’ And finally, here in the last verse, a simple cry from the heart: ‘Remember me with favour, my God.’ I’ve done all I can, but in the end, it’s all you.
It bears a striking resemblance to the prayer of the thief on the cross: ‘Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.’ Yet, the contrast between the two couldn’t be greater, could it? The thief who had nothing to offer Jesus but this one prayer; and Nehemiah who had lived a life of outstanding service and great achievement. In their last words, though, the only way they can truly approach God is exactly the same: ‘Remember me, my God.’ It’s all grace. It’s all about God, and not about us.
It’s a good way to finish this story, isn’t it? After all the exploits, Nehemiah is not ultimately a book about Nehemiah, it’s a book about God. As we’ve seen throughout, Nehemiah’s great life relied on God’s grace and was lived in humility. He finished how he started.
May this be the pattern of our life’s journey, too. It’s not how we start, it’s how we finish. ‘Remember me, my God.’ Because it’s not about me; it’s all about you. Amen.