Scripture Reading
Ezra 3:1-7
An Imaginative Retelling
A thick dust, redolent with the scent of sunbaked earth and ancient memories, hangs heavy in the air near Jerusalem. The wind whispers through the tent as I watch my father, his silhouette stark against the fiery orange and purple sunset, his gaze fixed on the distant hills.
It has been three months since we arrived, and we are still adapting to our new environment. But we are home at last. Sweet Zion.
A long trumpet blast sounds. A jolt of adrenaline surges through me, and my heart leaps in my chest.
“It’s time, Eliab,” my father says, his voice low and serious as he turns from the doorway. I can hardly believe we’re all together in Zion for Rosh Hashana. I have only heard tales from my father’s childhood. “Come, come,” he motions, waving his hand, urging me forward.
Before long, my father and I are walking toward Jerusalem. A wave of families from every tribe flows into the streets. We slowly approach the temple mount. My heart sinks as I look at the broken stones and the charred wood scattered across the one-glorious site.
“How can we ever restore this?” I mutter. I feel my father’s hand rest on my shoulder.
“God has promised,” he says with a gleam of hope in his eyes. At that moment a crowd swelled around us, their voices raised in prayer and song. Amidst the crumbled brick and dust, a flicker of hope ignited within me.
A hush falls over the people as Jeshua, the high priest, and Zerubbabel, the governor, take their places before them.
“The time has come,” Jeshua proclaims, his voice steady. “Before we rebuild the Temple, we must rebuild the altar. Here, we will offer sacrifices to the Lord and proclaim His name among the nations.”
My pulse quickens. The crowd erupts into cheers, though whispers of fear ripple through the assembly. We all know enemies surround us—hostile neighbors who would not welcome their worship. Yet we gather as one, driven by faith stronger than fear.
Clearing the debris is grueling. I work alongside elders who remember the first Temple and children too young to know what it once was. Sweat drips from my brow as I heave stones and watch others shape the altar’s foundation.
“Is this enough?” I ask an elder.
The man smiles and replies, “It is not the size of the altar that matters, but the God who meets us here.”
On the first day, the altar is complete. Smoke spirals heavenward as Jeshua offers the first sacrifice. The crowd falls silent, the acrid scent of burning flesh mingling with the faint aroma of cedar. I kneel as the priests lift their hands in prayer. Peace washes over me, as though God Himself has drawn near.
Scriptural Truth & Prayer
From Ezra 3:1-7, we learn that the people of Israel, demonstrating their piety and commitment to God, rebuilt the altars and subsequently offered sacrifices as a sign of their renewed faith and devotion to the Almighty. Under Mosaic Law, it was necessary for them to make these sacrifices so that they might be in a peace with God. Under the New Covenant, Jesus has made an atoning sacrifice for all who believe. Faith in Christ grants us peace and makes us righteous before God. Have you trusted Him?
Lord Jesus, you are my only hope for peace with God. Help me trust in your sacrifice. Amen
Kevin W. Bounds 
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