What Joan, in the TV show, has to learn over and over, is that when God asks her to do something, even if it seems stupid, it's a good idea to do it anyway. So, against her better judgement she does things like try out for the cheerleader squad or hold a yard sale, not clear why she needs to do these things, other than the fact that she received word from God. Each week, of course, there is some hidden way that God is at work in these events and where Joan's willingness to do what she's been asked helps God's plan move forward in some small way.

God speaks. Unfortunately, unlike the old E.F. Hutton ads, not everybody listens.

The exiled Jewish people had not remembered the words of God which had shaped them. They had fallen far away from being God's covenant people. Nehemiah is a Jew who works in the government and was concerned about those Jews who survived the Babylonian exile and were able to return to Jerusalem. But he heard that the walls of Jerusalem were crumbling, that the Chosen People were in trouble and that the Covenant was not being kept. So Nehemiah asked permission from his boss, the king, to go to Jerusalem and help restore the Jewish people.

The book of Nehemiah is a story of restoration and renewal, which pivots on this passage that we heard this morning. During the rebuilding of Jerusalem, scrolls have been found containing the Torah, so a day is set when they will be read. We read in chapter 8 that everybody old enough to understand - men, women and children - gather to hear the reading.

Now what happens here is really a preacher's dream. Ezra, the priest, gets up with the book, and all the people stand and listen attentively during the entire reading, which is offered, we're told, with interpretation along the way. Ezra read the entire Torah - all the books of Moses - and preached on them as he went - and the entire city stood at attention, listening for the Word. They raised their hands in praise, they bowed their heads in humility, they responded "Amen, Amen," and they worshiped God. It's like a preachers Super Bowl!

Finally, after hearing the Law read and preached to them, the people wept. They wept, because they knew how far they were from God and from living God's law.

The word made them weep. The word changed their hearts.

But the priests and Nehemiah respond, "Don't weep, don't mourn! This is a holy day. Go have a feast - eat, drink, share what you have with the poor so everybody can feast, be filled with joy, - because the joy of the Lord is your strength."

The word brings joy and strength.

One of the lies we are taught as children is "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." We all know how deeply words can wound. They can cut into our souls with as much damage as any knife. The hidden scars of hurtful words can shape our personality if we let them. If we don't open those wounds to healing, old words can stay with us and distort our vision of the world. Words can wound.

And words can heal. Words can bring joy and strength. Words can shape a new world.

In the beginning, a word began the world. In the fullness of time, God's Word became flesh. In ordinary moments, God's word can change us. In ordinary ways, our words can wound or heal, weaken or strengthen. Words matter.

What we say matters. The way we define our world will shape how we respond to it. The way we define ourselves will shape how we live. Words set our intentions.

When Jesus stood up in the synagogue to read God's word, he found the words in Isaiah that would shape his ministry: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because God has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, ... to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord." Then he told those listening, "Today, this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Not: this Scripture will be fulfilled. It has been. Speaking the right words, the true words, in the right place and time, can change history. Think about it:

Words have power. Words create worlds.

Every Sunday, when we stand up to preach, ministers across the globe hope that our words might be the right ones, the true ones, at the right moment. And every once in a while, they are. It was a Super-Bowl Sunday in 1990 when a seminary intern in a Columbia, South Carolina Presbyterian Church gave the prayer in church. During the prayer he said these words, "Lord, even as we enjoy the Super Bowl football game, help us be mindful of those who are without a bowl of soup to eat."

Words matter. Words can wound and words can heal.

Listen to these words: "This is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me."

Rev. Collins would like to thank the Rev. Bob Ratchford for his sermon preached January 25, 2004 at the Black Mountain Presbyterian Church, North Carolina, which served as the inspiration for this sermon.