“[From the priests]…and their associates, who carried on work for the temple—822 men; Adaiah son of Jeroham…”
Nehemiah 11:12a
Last time we saw Seraiah’s final two listed descendants and his role as supervisor in the House of God Almighty. Today we see the associates who carried on the work of the temple.
The word associates here is ach, which can mean brother, countryman, kinsman. These were the ones taking care of the details of sacrifices and offerings. The word used for carrying on this work is asah – accomplish, to do, an action with a product, specifically a poem, a thing offered.
Don’t you like the imagery of keeping up the new Temple in the now-walled-in City as something offered to God? Mind you, it was work (melakah – labor, project), but with the possibility to be done unto the Almighty as poetry. These 822 men are made sure to be mentioned in this chronicle of names remaining in Jerusalem. The work was needed and important.
How about us? Do we see the inherent dignity in our daily labor? What if it’s done over and over, seemingly never ending? Or unappreciated, unsuccessful, or insignificant?
I’m grateful we serve a God Who sees and uses it all to make us into the kind of people that fit into His Kingdom. Not just willing to do something laborious or unexciting, but offer it to Him to love and serve.
After listing these associates, we have a specific man named as a family head. It’s Adaiah, which means “Yah has ornamented Himself,” from Yah and adah – to pass on, advance, deck self, pass by, take away, to remove.
It of course makes me think of God hiding Moses in the cleft of the rock as He passes by announcing His gracious and merciful character. For if on full display, completely ornamented, Moses would be unable to look on and live. Such is our dazzling Yahweh.
When I balance the ornamented and bedecking synonyms with others, however, it seems “removing and taking away” hold more weight than the former. What does that do to your heart, thinking of the God Who ornaments Himself as one who also removes?
I want to so fully trust His motives, I can in sincerity say, “The LORD gives and the LORD takes away. May the name of the LORD be praised.”
Adaiah’s father is Jeroaham, whose name means “may he be compassionate.” It comes from racham (verb form) meaning to love, have compassion, surely have mercy. As a noun racham means “compassion, deep mercy, tender love, great, pity, womb (as cherishing a fetus).”
Have you ever beheld this compassion? Felt it for another? Watched someone love with a tender mercy?
My sister showed me some photos this weekend as we discussed mass shootings, racial trauma, and a boy my son’s age shot in the street. They are striking, shining a spotlight on the emptiness of political rhetoric and circular arguments to how beating hearts are no longer.
If we allow ourselves to think of the grief of mothers, the wails against injustice, the desperate plea for change, we may get a glimpse of God as Mother, under Whose wings is refuge, where a deep and protective maternal love is found.
God help us, may we be compassionate.