Hard-Pressed but Not Crushed

Our topic for this time is “Hard-Pressed but Not Crushed.” And you will recognize that phraseology from Paul in 2 Corinthians,[1] but it just seems to fit here in chapter 3 and chapter 4.

I think it’s probably helpful, too, to read… ’Cause we read our Bibles backwards, don’t we? When we read something like chapter 3, we read it as Christians. We read it as New Testament believers. We read it in the light of the unfolding revelation of God. And so, rather than read chapter 3, let me just read from 1 Corinthians 12:12 for a little way along—familiar material, again, not things that we will discover as much as we will be reminded of.

“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

“For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, ‘Because I[’m] not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, ‘Because I[’m] not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members [of] the body, each one of them, as he chose.’” (We’re not here as a result of Darwinian evolution, the survival of the fittest. We’re here created by God, sustained by God, and accountable to God.) “If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.

“The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I[’ve] no need of you.’ On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

“Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, helping, administrating, and various kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all possess gifts of healing?” (Clearly, the rhetorical answer is no.) “Do all speak with tongues?” (No.) “Do all interpret?” (No.) “But earnestly desire the higher gifts.

“And I will show you a still more excellent way.”

And then it goes into chapter 13, which just seems to be perfectly positioned in between the challenges of chapter 12 and the unfolding challenges of chapter 14. I suppose if we’re going to do a series, then make sure that we keep 13 where it is, right in the middle, so as to prevent us from all kinds of lopsidedness.

Father, we pray that what we don’t know you will teach us; that what we don’t have you will give us; that what we are not, that you will make us. And we ask it in Christ’s name. Amen.

Incidentally, in coming to these three studies in Nehemiah, I’ve chosen them somewhat arbitrarily, but not actually so. I’ve decided not to do, you know, if you like, the big passage in chapter 8—“bring out the Book”[2] and the Word of God—and to reinforce the place of expository preaching, not because that would not be our emphasis, but just because it’s so familiar to us. And I thought I would rather take a stab at the rather knotty thirteenth chapter, which is before us later in the day, unless we can find a way to escape before that.

Largely Forgotten Names and Places

But in the same way, you know, here, dealing with chapter 3 and chapter 4, we all believe together, don’t we, that “all scripture is inspired by God”?[3] The perspicuity of Scripture we believe, down to the verbs and the adverbs and so on. So we believe that all Scripture is inspired, but if we’re honest, we recognize that all Scripture is not equally inspiring. So, for example, you know, Chronicles ends with the beginning of Ezra, but when you go to the beginning of Chronicles, it’s a real test to your profession of believing in the entire, you know, inspiration of Scripture and that every verse is vitally important.

Just turn for a moment and look at 1 Chronicles 1—I mean, just for the fun of it: “Adam, Seth, Enosh; Kenan, Mahalalel, Jared; Enoch, Methuselah, Lamech; Noah, Shem, Ham, … Japheth.” That’s just verse 1. And it goes all the way through to “Timna, Alvah, Jetheth, Oholibamah, Elah, Pinon, Kenaz, Teman, Mibzar, Magdiel, … Iram,” and “these are the chiefs of Edom”—which God wanted us to know.

And that’s why we have Nehemiah chapter 3. What we have in chapter 3 is essentially a catalog of largely forgotten names and places. Largely forgotten names and places. In the immediacy of these days, people would have been able to say, “Well, yes, I do remember that family. I remember those people. I had a cousin of mine that was part of that.” But those days are actually long gone. And what becomes apparent when you read through it—as I have read through it, and you will, too—is that for every name that’s actually mentioned here in chapter 3, there are many, many more names. Many more names—people that have never actually made it into the record of Holy Scripture.

And it’s a reminder of a number of things. In part, it’s a reminder of the fact that none of us will even be a footnote in history. I mean, it’s, you know,

All flesh is [like] grass,
 [the glory of man] like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower [falls].[4]

And they say, “Do you remember What’s-His-Name? And who’s What’s-His-Name?” Well, there’s a whole host of What’s-His-Names.

But be encouraged, brothers. I want you to be encouraged. Because in 2 Timothy, where Paul writes his swan song, and before he wraps it up, he mentions a couple of people that were a pain in his neck. “Alexander the [metal worker] did me great harm.”[5] It’s interesting he puts that in. It’s a heck of a way to get yourself in the Bible, isn’t it? But…

“Hey, I’m in the Bible, Mom!”

“Yeah, I saw it. I saw it. Yeah. Yeah.”

“Eubulus sends greeting to you. So does Pudens, Linus,” Charlie Brown, “Claudia.”[6] But here it is: “and all the brothers.”[7] “And all the brothers” and sisters. I look at that, and I go, “Hey, I’m in!” One of the brothers, one of the sisters—no name. God knows your name! God knows your place.

And this project in which he’s engaging involves all of these people whose names are mentioned here. And so let me just make observation concerning that.

First of all: It’s very obvious, but a project of the magnitude that he is about to engage in could not seriously be undertaken without the mobilization of the entire community. There’s no solo flying in this. There’s nobody running their own show. People cynically every so often refer to the local church as being akin to, you know, the average football game, where you have sixty thousand people in the stands badly in need of exercise, and you’ve got twenty-two people on the field badly in need of a rest. And any engagement in church life for any length of time at all reveals how amazingly dependent we are on small coteries of people who are prepared to invest significant energy, resources in order to set forward the purposes of God. And for them we are immensely thankful. But they are only representative of others who perhaps would be glad to get a part in it if only somebody would have tapped them.

I’m not a fan of putting a thing in the bulletin about “We’d like some volunteers for our children’s ministry.” I mean, do that if you want. But it’s far better if the people who are in your children’s ministry draw alongside one of their friends, said, “You know, I think you could be super in this. You would be super. Would you come? Will you come with me? I mean, try it out at least”—rather than that. Because what happens is the vast majority of people say, “I don’t think I could do that,” or “I don’t want to do that,” or “I’m not doing that.” And the same group that need a rest because they’re committed souls, they’re back. You see them again and again.

So, obvious point: The project could not be engaged in without the mobilization of the community.

Secondly: This kind of participation, as it unfolds, needs to be harmonious and simultaneous, so that the harmony that exists in the endeavor is a shared commitment. When you read the chapter—which you will do later on if you haven’t done so yet—you realize that the wall here, if you just try and count it up… I gave up at about forty. I think there is about forty sections that are mentioned in the wall—so, forty places where people are going to have to be deployed. Well, everybody can’t be at the one place. Indeed, if that were the case, all the other thirty-nine spots would be bereft of the kind of involvement that is necessary.

And so, part of the leadership’s role is… Bob often says it here. He talks about getting the people on the bus, but getting the people on the bus in the right seats on the bus. See, you got right people on the wrong seat, you got to move them out of the seat and put the people in. And that’s part of the challenge. The thing is divided up, and the individuals are individually involved in what is a harmonious and simultaneous engagement. In other words, they’re not going to decide when they’re working, because there’s going to have to be a master plan, and Nehemiah’s got to give leadership.

Thirdly: When we observe what takes place here in the reading of the text, I, for one, find that their dedication and their enthusiasm provides me both with an example and at the same time a challenge—that the transition from “I told them about the hand of God that was upon me; I told them about what God had put in my heart to do; I told them that God was sovereign even over the affairs of the king who has done these things”[8]—they then said, “Let us rise up and build.”[9] It came from them. They caught the spark.

In the 1960s, there was a song they used to sing at Campus Crusade all the time: “It only takes a spark to [set] a fire going, and soon all those around [will] warm up in its glowing.”[10] And that’s exactly what we find takes place here.

Fourth observation is that these groups are not actually uniform as you go through the process. Some of them are there by dint of family relationships. There is a definite geographical dimension to the way in which some are participating. Some of them are involved in a group because of the skill set that they share. Some tradesmen would be particularly adept in certain areas, and it would make sense that they found themselves as a cluster. And then the priests and the Levites—whatever they’re doing, they’ve got their own small group as well. I’m sure Nehemiah had to go down and kick some butt in that group, but it’s—you know, because they would be thinking about it too long, you know. Said, “No, no, no. We’re trying to build the wall here. This is not a history project, for goodness’ sake.”

Now, we could apply this. I’m deliberately not applying it. But I’ve observed both by experience and by participation that the breaking down of the project in terms of a local church environment… It’s very possible to be very defined, very clear about who this group is, what this group is, how this group is going to be, so that it’s all very, very tidy—which is good. It’s important, because leadership has to make sure that the groups are not just sort of going off in their own direction. However, if you think about the way things unfold in life: Guys get together for coffee with each other not because some guy told them to but because they said, “Hey! We’re standing here talking. We’ve been talking for twenty minutes. We might as well… Why don’t we… On Tuesday, why don’t we get together and talk, and we can get coffee?”—or whatever else it is. Or the ladies’ group: “No, no, you’ve got to have it like this! It has to be like this! You’ve got to have the lady. You’ve got to have the leader. You’ve got to have the thing. You’ve got the deal.” Okay, good. You got that.

But what about all the other people who are willing to be engaged in the project of seeing unbelieving people becoming the committed followers of Jesus Christ? Are you going to suggest that because they don’t fit the mold of the way in which you’ve built the thing, that they somehow or another are not involved? I’ll just leave you to think about that, because we’ve gone six ways from Tuesday in relationship to this over the past forty-two years. The small groups, in this case, were not uniform. They were united. They were various. They were diverse. They were united, various, diverse. United.

And it is no surprise that in a project of this magnitude, there will be those who sound a jarring note. And, of course, the jarring note is sounded there in the fifth verse. Verse 4, next to Hassenaah at the fish gate—kind of stinky place to be: “They laid its beams”; they “set its doors, its bolts, … its bars. … Next to them Meremoth the son of Uriah, son of Hakkoz repaired. … Next to them Meshullam the son of Berechiah, son of Meshezabal repaired. And next to them Zadok the son of Baana repaired.” And then here we go: “And next to them the Tekoites repaired, but their nobles would not stoop to serve [the] Lord.” “We’re not going to do that. That’s beneath us. You know, we have people that do that kind of thing for us.” It’s always… So we plan on that. We don’t go home, say to our wives, “Oh, I can’t believe it! Mr. So-and-So said such-and-such. He’s a Tekoite, for crying out loud! He’s in the Bible! We got a Tekoite!” And your wife says, “What’s one of those?” You say, “I’ll tell you later.” Okay.

So, as we think that through—which I hope we do—building together means at least this: that every individual takes responsibility for some part. Right. In order for every individual to take responsibility for some part, it involves individuals setting aside personal disagreements. Personal disagreements. Because we are—to jump again to the New Testament—as Peter says, we are like living stones being built into a temple.[11] And the picture of the stones is a good picture, because the stones would not be uniform. We’re not talking here about… We’re talking more about that kind of stonework that is up there, where none of the two pieces are identical to one another, but under the skilled craftsmanship of the wall builder, they fit together, and they accomplish a purpose that none of them could possibly accomplish on their own.

And when we think about dealing with the stones, as we are stones being built into a temple, we realize that our people are—you know, they’re not symmetrical. There was a book a long time ago, and I think it was about, you know, church work, and the fellow called it Building with Bananas.[12] Building with Bananas. It’s not very complimentary to the congregation, but bananas, you know, they get soft. They get squishy. They get green. You don’t want to build with bananas. And the trouble is, that’s really what it’s like—that he’s building a spiritual house.

Building together means at least this: that every individual takes responsibility for some part.

I don’t want to overstate this, but having been involved for the last fifty years in local church ministry, I have concluded—and this is an indication of the stoniness of my own heart—that the members of the average congregation are not people that I want to go on vacation with. I’m just telling you. I love them. I teach them. I care for them. But I don’t want to go on vacation with you. In fact, I don’t even like singing that Bill Gaither song, you know, where we’re supposed to look at each other and say, “I’m so glad that you’re part of the family of God.”[13] Let’s be honest about it! We change the words here. We sing, “I’m surprised that you’re part of the family of God.”

These people that are Nehemiah’s people are God’s people. Their names are in here, and more people than their names are in. And they are the people of God. And these are the people that God has entrusted to our care.

And as I say, I don’t want to overstate the case. Because more than anything, people ask me, “What’s going since the eighth of June last year?” One thing: I miss my congregation. I miss my congregation. I see their faces when I dream, I know where they sit, and I miss them. So don’t extrapolate from the attempt at humor to saying, “Yeah, Begg is an unfeeling rascal.” No.

It is imperative that every individual is playing their part, that to do so they set aside personal disagreements. We’re not talking here about disagreements over theology or things like that but superficial things—the kind of things that people, you know, raise up as whatever it might be. And the only way that it actually happens is when everybody keeps the overall purpose in view—the overall purpose—so that everybody at their little piece needs to realize, “I’m not here just to build this. This is about this. I have a tiny part in a vast deal.

You know the old chestnut illustration, somebody’s—like a Chuck Swindoll illustration. He’s got some great illustrations. But, you know, Swindoll says the guy… Sir Christopher Wren designed St. Paul’s in London. And a fellow’s going around, and he comes on one of the artisans. He said, “What are you doing?” He says, “I’m fixing the stonework in the nave.” He finds another guy, says, “What are you doing?” He says, “I’m laying down the flooring in the chancel.” And he comes to another guy who’s just banging away with a hammer, and he says, “And what are you doing?” He says, “I am helping Sir Christopher Wren to build St. Paul’s Cathedral.” Right? “What are you doing?” If you came upon any of these people: “What are you actually doing?”

And again, see, Nehemiah has conveyed this notion. He said to them, “Do you see the trouble we’re in?”[14] And some did, and some didn’t. “But do you see where we can go?” They said, “Oh, yeah, I’m getting the picture now.” And so here they are.

The Opposition to God’s Work

The principles are important—and I’ll leave it there—in light of what happens in chapter 4. Because “when Sanballat had heard that we were building the wall”—here we go again! God’s work will never go God’s way unopposed. It just doesn’t. The opposition may come from the outside. It may come from the inside. We know that reconciled to God in Jesus, we are involved, as the Westminster Confession of Faith says, in “a continual and irreconcilable war”[15] on three fronts: against the world, against the flesh, and against the devil. And so we take to ourselves the whole armor of God that we may be able to withstand in the evil day.[16] Therefore, we read the Old Testament, and we say, “Well, there’s nothing new in this at all, because this is indicative of the reality that we face.”

And so, as a leader, we recognize that the anger and the enragement and the jeering and the despising is directed first of all at the fellow who’s at the front of the parade—not because he wanted to put himself there but because he was put there. God put it in his heart. Leaders have to lead. If you’re not going to lead, get out! Right? I mean, it’s inevitable.

God’s work will never go God’s way unopposed.

And if you lead, as I said earlier, you’re in for it. For some of the people, you’re a hero. For some of the people, you’re a villain. Same people! You know where they sit. You speak to them at the end of the day. I don’t know how long you’re into your ministry, but I think it’s fairly accurate to say, you know, you come in, and you get installed or ordained or put, and, you know, it’s like, “Hey, this is good,” you know. Little notes: “Pastor, so glad you’re here,” and everything. “You’re so good…” So they start off; they idolize you. And then one day, you open your mail from the same lady that told you you were the best thing since sliced bread, and now she’s criticizing you. But it doesn’t end there. ’Cause it goes idolize, criticize, ostracize. Then they don’t even talk to you. Then they start skipping you when you’re shaking hands with people going out the door. I know! I know these things. Idolize, criticize, ostracize.

The last Gaelic-speaking Presbyterian minister in New Milnes in Ayrshire knew what it was to face this kind of framework. And he wrote a hymn for his colleagues in ministry which begins, “Courage, brother[s], do not stumble.” Okay? So, you know where this is going. And the purple verse is

Some will love thee, some will hate thee,
Some will praise thee, some will slight.
Cease from man, and look above thee;
Trust in God, and do what’s right.[17]

So in other words: “What is the right thing to do here?” Now, keep that in mind, because when we get to chapter 13, that challenge becomes really, really strong in relationship to Nehemiah: “What is the right thing to do?” And the right thing to do is to recognize that when the work of God proceeds, the opposition comes.

There’s a price to be paid for true leadership! True leadership exacts a heavy toll on the whole person. And the more effective your leadership is, the higher the price you’re going to pay. Because as I said earlier: If you only want them to like you, and you’re frightened to lead them because they won’t like you, then there’s not much of a price to be paid for that. It’s just the price of going home, and seeing yourself in the mirror, and saying, you know, “I’m missing the point here.” You’ll be the target of critical darts, and you’ll become familiar with what it means to face these things.

I bet there isn’t hardly any of you that watch the Six Nations rugby. (That would be a strong amen right there.) But if you can track it down and you can see international rugby being played, those of you who’ve become aficionados of American football—which is a corruption of both proper football, as played by the rest of the world, and rugby football, which is played by the significant chunk of the world, so we created a hybrid of our own where people are dressed up like gladiators. But these rugby guys—these are crazy people. And the same is true in Australian-rules football. Same thing. And so, if somebody goes out to play rugby, and he comes back, and he says, “You know, it was a terrible experience. I kept getting thrown on the ground. I got mud all over myself. He’s torn my jacket, and I got a big thing here”—and his wife says, “Forget it! That’s what rugby is! Don’t come wimping here at the end of the day.”

Now, our wives are important, because they bear part of this thing with us. In fact, I want to give you a quote from Martin Lloyd-Jones about your wife, or my wife, or anybody’s wife for that matter. Now, this is Lloyd-Jones. You do with this what you choose:

What the minister’s wife needs above everything is wisdom so that she does not create problems. And another thing is this: She should never have a special friend in the church. That is very important. Otherwise, it will create division and jealousy. Her main business is to look after her husband, relieve him of his worries about the home and, as far as she can, about financial matters, and—very important—not to keep on feeding him with the tittle-tattle of the gossip of the church. She is to protect him and help him.

Now, brethren, you do with this what you choose. But I’m going to tell you that if you put your wife into that environment of “idolize, criticize, ostracize,” you give to her a burden that she’s not made to bear. We are supposed to be protecting her from that kind of thing. She cannot become the conduit of that thing to come back to us, because our wives are going to take that far harder than we will. Because they’re our wives! And so, the way in which this unfolds is such that we’ve got to be really, really careful.

The problem is that the ridicule is understandable. They don’t like the wall—not because the problem is the wall. If you did Robert Frost in English, yeah:

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That spreads the frozen ground under it,
And spills the things…[18]

Blah, blah, blah, blah. He was talking about something entirely different. But these guys don’t love the wall. And they don’t love the wall not because it’s a wall. They don’t have, actually, a problem with the wall. They’ve got a problem with what the wall represents.

And they understand what’s being said here: “You have besmirched the glory of the living God, the God of heaven, who has established his holy place in Jerusalem. And we’re back here to let you know that this God is alive. No matter what you say and no matter how you ridicule us, we want you to know that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the God that we are representing to you.”

That’s what Peter is doing straight after Pentecost: “The God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob has made himself known to you in the person of Jesus Christ, whom you crucified and he raised.”[19] I mean, he doesn’t mince his words. And so it is that the response to the ridicule needs to be as we find here.

Sanballat, he writes a verse. Tobiah joins in the chorus. And you can see it all there: “Do they think they’re going to fix this place overnight? Not a chance. Even if a fox jumped up on the wall, it would knock it down. It’s a pathetic venture in which they are engaged.” Don’t kid yourself! That’s what some of the people say in the town where you’re working: “What do they think they’re doing in here with that Jesus stuff and the thing? Well, I can’t believe it. Do they really… Do they?” Yeah, they do. Yeah, they do.

I mean, every so often, the Lord will give us the spirit of David, as opposed to being like his brothers and the rest of the army. Right? There they stand, day after day. The Goliath comes out, the giant. “Hey! Anybody want to fight me?” They’re all like, “No, we’re going for a coffee right now. But we’ll check it. We’ll check later on.” Same, and same, and same, and same. Then that shepherd boy, who, you know, he’s not even in the top ten of the list as a potential king. Little do they know! But he gets the job of going up to the front lines to take the cheese and the crackers and the Triscuits, or whatever they were at the time. And he shows up there, and he sees this, and he says, “What the… What’s going on here?” And his brothers! You remember the brother says to him, “Oh, hey, hey, hey. You just came up here to watch!”[20] To which, if I’d been David, I would have said, “Watch what? There’s nothing to watch! There’s no battle! There’s no battle!”

And so he says, “I’ll go.”[21] Now, what is his line to Goliath? “You defy the armies of the living God.” One plus God is a majority. It’s true! “Listen: I’m going cut your head off.”[22] Either he’s an egomaniac, or he knows something about God that his brothers don’t even believe. It’s the same approach.

Nehemiah’s not discouraged. He’s not defeated by their ridicule. He looks to God. He looks to God.

Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.[23]

He prayed for five months—the time between 1:1 and 2:1 is five months. He prayed for longer than the building project took!

And the process is there for us to see. “The people” have “a mind to work”—have “a mind to work,” praying and working so as to close the gaps. And as you read the text, you realize that that’s the picture. He says that “we completed it to half the height.” Well, don’t you want it to the whole height? “Well, yeah, we do want it to the whole height. But what we want to make sure is that we’ve got the circumference taken care of so that the thing is framed in. And we can worry about how high it’s going once we get that done.”

Some of us, because of the way we’re put together, we want the height as well, and we want everything, and if we can’t get it that way… Hey, calm down. Listen to your friends. Listen: The circumference needs to be closed. The sections need to be built in full so that they might join together with each other.

It’s a picture of what I used to say to my children: “You might not be the brightest in the class (I know for sure I wasn’t), but this is what I look for from you: attitude and effort.” Attitude and effort, A and E. A and E.

And you look at what happens here. And that’s what he gets: attitude. And the attitude—again, you come back to the harmonious nature of things—that is crucial. One bad guy in the locker room can destroy your basketball team, attitudinally. He may be the best player possible. Think Hoosiers. “We want Jimmy! We want Jimmy!” Remember? And then a little guy who does the free throws like this? And Gene Hackman stands up and says, “Hey, support the team you have, not the team you wish you had.” You’ve got to preach to the congregation you have, not the congregation you wish you had. “I wish I had a congregation like that, or him, or like that,” or the next thing. God knows what he’s doing. There is no ideal place to serve God except the place he sets us down.

And Nehemiah gets set down here. And so there he goes! There’s no big name, no big splash. Everybody is just doing their part. A bunch of nobodies! Nobodies. A bunch of old clay pots.[24] A bunch of leaks. A bunch of people who are aware…

I mean, the story of Nehemiah is surely the story… Ultimately, when you stand back from it, you say, “It’s an amazing story of the faithfulness of God with such a bunch of unfaithful people”—which is, of course, the story of the Christian church: that God remains faithful to all of his promises, and he uses the most unlikely people in the building of his wall. I mean, we wouldn’t pick ourselves, I hope. (Maybe we would.)

George Eliot, who was actually a woman, in Middlemarch—that wonderful statement that is made there, thinking about a bunch of people whose names we don’t know engaged in a project that is bigger than themselves: “The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts,” performed by the large “number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs”[25]—the large number who live their lives faithfully, and they are not on the receiving end of routine visits to the cemetery.

Winston Churchill’s funeral was ’63, I think. I watched it in my friend’s house on black-and-white TV, because we didn’t have a TV. And part of his funeral hymnody included Bunyan’s

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather;
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.[26]

And you remember, because Churchill had to plead with the United States, plead with Roosevelt, “Come! Help us!” And when he presented the case, he says, “I have nothing to offer you save blood, sweat, tears, ignominy, agony.” That was his appeal: “You prepared to come and die? Come!” That’s actually the appeal of Jesus.

And it has a wonderful verse that begins,

Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit;
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
[Let darkness flee] away,
He’ll [care] not what men say,
He’ll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

And that’s what he’s said! That’s what Nehemiah’s saying to these people: “Look, you’ve got a part to play. God knows what your part is. And make sure that you do it to his glory.

So, Nehemiah, having put his hand to the plow, refuses to look back. Refuses to look back. And I would be surprised if there aren’t some of us here today who’ve been thinking, “If there’s a way I can get out of this anytime soon, I think I should try.” And I’m not talking about getting out of your seat right now. I’m getting at where you are.

The same process is there when Paul says to Timothy, “I want you to endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.”[27] And, as I said in introduction, he was very clear that his own experience of ministry followed along these lines: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, … not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.”[28] “I’m still alive!”

And again, coming back to our wives: We’ve got to determine how much we share with them the crushing and the bruising and everything. I mean, there’s an element in which we need them to know enough to support us, but I don’t want the fact of what an elder has said to me to become a burden to her. I’d rather bear it myself than give her the burden that accompanies that. But again, you’ve got to work these things out for yourself.

Sanballat and Tobiah are unable to stop the project. They’re angered by the fact of their inability. And so they said, “What we’re going to do is we will just conceive of a plot, and we will make sure that we bring confusion and disruption into the proceedings.”

Coming back to a sporting analogy again: Certainly this is true in soccer, in football. The two or three minutes immediately before halftime—actually, I think it’s true as well in basketball, as I watched the Final Four—the final seconds before halftime and the opening seconds immediately after halftime, you can catch people unawares. If they’re not prepared to relaunch again, you could get them; and if they’re slowing up in prospect of “Oh, we can get a cup of tea; it’s going to be halftime,” then you can get them there again. And it would seem that as the thing gets halfway along, Sanballat and his friends, they decide, “Well, I think we can make a stab at them here.” Not a full-frontal thing! They’re not talking about it in those terms. They’re talking, essentially, about guerrilla tactics.

The devil doesn’t wear a baseball cap announcing his approach—at least not in my experience. When you take Jude: The people who “crept in unawares,”[29] who “crept in” secretly, they didn’t sign up to be in your home Bible study group wearing a baseball hat that said they were committed to some esoteric view of Reformed theology or charismatic whatever else it is. No, no. They didn’t put that on the front. But as soon as you let them go, you’ll find out where they’re coming from. That’s why leadership has to lead. That’s why discernment has to be there. And these characters are determined they can bring this down.

So what does he do? He does exactly what he did at the beginning: “We prayed to … God.” “We prayed to God, and we posted a guard”—“day and night” protection.

Unfortunately, “in Judah”—verse 10—“it was said, ‘The strength of those who bear the burdens is failing.’” Well, that makes sense. But who’s supposed to be bearing the burdens? “There[’s] too much rubble”—verse 10b. Actually, there’s less rubble than there was before. “By ourselves we will not be able to rebuild the wall.” Exactly! That’s good news. That’s true. That part’s definitely true. “[Unless] the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it.”[30] Well, does that mean that we all just should sit down and watch for God to do this? No!

They were encouraged—friends, family—to return to the outlying villages, where it’s safe. I find it hard to understand 10, 11, and 12: “And our [enemy says], ‘They will not know or see till we come [upon] them and kill them and stop the work.’” (“We’ll just sneak up on them.”) “At [the] time the Jews who lived near them came from all directions and [they] said to us ten times”—“You should get out of there and come to us. It’s much safer if you come back into the villages. If you’re going stay down there, there’s no saying what could happen to you.” Maybe that’s a word to somebody, ’cause it’d been said, “We thought you’d like to go to a suburban church.” They want to get me out into some nice rural area, where you’re stuck next to a golf course, and there’s nothing going on, and it’s a miserable place—but it looks quite good from where you’re sitting. Listen: There’s no place except God’s place.

So, energy on the part of Nehemiah—exercises his leadership. And he gives direction, you will notice. “So in the lowest parts of the space behind the wall, in [the] open places, I stationed the people by their clans.” “All right, lads. Let’s line up here.” It’s got to be like that: “You over here, you over there. You over there.” The average leadership of a church—like “Well, how do you feel? I mean, what do you want?”—it’s like a weenie father trying to deal with five kids in the back of the car. One says, “I’m going to Burger King.” One says, “I want to go to this,” and one says, “Go to that.” And where’s he going to go? I’ll tell you where he’s going to go if he’s a dad and a leader: He’s going to go where he’s decided to go. And they’re all coming. And only one of them actually likes the idea. The other four are ticked! But the skill is that having led them there, when they get back in the car, he says, “Now, wasn’t that fantastic?” And they say, “Actually, yeah! I guess we can trust you, Dad, to lead us.”

In the Second World War, right around the time of the Battle of Britain—I wasn’t there (I was born seven years after)—but when Germany had made it into the Channel Islands and when the prospect of the Nazi war machine being able to come to Britain when the Battle of Britain ensues—which is an amazing intervention of God, for sure. Otherwise, I’d be speaking German to you right now. But they had the thing called the Home Guard. The Home Guard. And I thought about it when I read this: “And he stationed the people with their clans.” “Yeah, you can keep your hat on. Yeah, you can wear your clan hat. That’s fine. Yeah. Now, you got a sword, you got a spear, and you got a bow.” “And I looked.” And he looked. What did he see? He saw all these people with their spears and their sticks and the things, and he must have looked and said, “What are you going to do with this?” “There’s only one little boy here who’s got five loaves and two fish, but, I mean, what are you going to do with that?”

There was a comedy program written about the Home Guard. Because, literally, the people would come home from work—men who were, like, bank managers and ladies who were teachers—they would come home, and they’d go down to the local place, and they’d get some kind of implement of destruction. So it might be a rake. It might be a thing. Every so often, one of them got a gun. But it was a motley crew. And the program was really funny. (Don’t look for it, because you won’t think it’s funny.) But the song that led into the program—it was called Dad’s Army—it goes like this:

Who do you think you’re kidding, Mr. Hitler,
If you think old England’s done?
We are the lads who will stop your little games;
We are the boys who will make you think again.

Mr. Brown goes off to town on the 8:31;
Half past three, he’s home for tea and ready with his gun.
Oh, who do you think you’re kidding, Mr. Hitler?[31]

It was sheer bravado! I mean, what are you going to do with a shovel, standing on the Cliffs of Dover as the Messerschmitts come flying overhead? What are you going to do in this world that is so prevailingly engaged against the work of the kingdom? “Why do the nations rage and the people imagine a vain thing?”[32] ’Cause they won’t kiss the Son![33]

And so the battle is our battle. The wall is not our wall to build. “I looked, and I spoke to the group, and I said to them, ‘Don’t be afraid—of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome.’” This is our role. This is it: “Don’t be afraid. Fear not.” That’s what Jesus said: “Fear not.”[34] “Don’t be afraid. Remember the Lord, who’s great and awesome, and fight for your brothers and your sons and your daughters and your wives.” This is not rhetoric. This is theology.

We’re in a fight for our sons and our daughters. Our sons and our daughters have grown up being schooled by three big lies, depending on where they’ve gone to school. Number one: There is no personal creator. Number two: There is no absolute morality. And number three: There is no ultimate authority.

The battle is being fought on those lines and more besides. And so what he says: “Listen, it’s going to have to be business as usual.” “I set them up in such a way that they had a sword and a trowel.” We know that from Charles Haddon Spurgeon. That was his piece: The Sword and the Trowel.

Sound the battle cry! See the foe is nigh;
Raise the standard high for the Lord;
Gird your armor on; stand firm every one;
Rest your cause upon his holy Word.[35]

“Keep in touch. Stay alert. Listen for the trumpet call. And hey, you, the trumpet guy! You stay close to me. ’Cause I don’t want you blowing that trumpet just every time, you know, your tummy’s rumbling. If we’re going to have a trumpet player, I’m in control of the trumpet player.” So you got a trumpet player in your church? Make sure you don’t let them get that.

The strategy is clear: He put some people on the night shift, because he was absolutely convinced that the God of heaven is working his purpose out. And he is.

God is working his purpose out
As year succeeds to year;
God is working his purpose out,
And the time is drawing near;
Nearer and nearer draws the time,
The time that will surely be,
When the earth [will] be filled
With the glory of God
As the waters cover the sea.[36]

The end of history is not in doubt. It is not in doubt. And only the Bible-believing Christian is able to view the unbelievable chaos of this morning’s news with any semblance of security and peace. The politics of our world in Western civilization is a disaster. I don’t care what side you’re from; it is a disaster. So therefore, it is a moment of opportunity. The Sanballats, the Tobias, the Geshems, they have nothing to say. Everybody knows the thing is broken down. Everybody knows the world is broken. And it’s in the church of Jesus Christ that the light shines and that the repairs are provided by the God of heaven.

Only the Bible-believing Christian is able to view the unbelievable chaos of this morning’s news with any semblance of security and peace.

It’s a long, long time since Elliot—James, you know—wrote in his journal, “He[’s] no fool who gives [up] what he cannot keep to gain [what] he cannot lose.”[37] His memory is long since lost, apart from Wheaton College and a few biographical books, washed away in the rivers of the Curaray. But remember what they sang as they ventured forward:

We rest on thee, our shield and our defender!
We go not forth alone against the foe;
Strong in thy strength, safe in thy keeping tender,
We rest on thee, and in thy name we go.[38]

That’s what Nehemiah was saying.

Father, thank you. Thank you for the fact that we can look back down through the corridor of time and see those whom you’ve raised up, who stand strong and tall because they were depending upon you, because they trusted in you. And we just pray that you will help us to manage all these words that have come out of my mouth, Lord. Grant that what is kind or true or necessary or helpful, that it may find some kind of place of retention for one or another. And anything that is unhelpful or untrue, just banish it from our recollection, we pray, and fit us afresh for the balance of the day and for the opportunity of life that opens before us. And we ask it in Christ’s name. Amen.

---

[1] See 2 Corinthians 4:8.

[2] Nehemiah 8:1 (NIV).

[3] 2 Timothy 3:16 (RSV).

[4] Isaiah 40:6–7 (ESV).

[5] 2 Timothy 4:14 (ESV).

[6] 2 Timothy 4:21 (paraphrased).

[7] 2 Timothy 4:21 (ESV).

[8] Nehemiah 2:18 (paraphrased). See also Nehemiah 2:12.

[9] Nehemiah 2:18 (ESV).

[10] Kurt Kaiser, “Pass It On” (1969).

[11] See 1 Peter 2:5.

[12] Derek Copley and Nancy Copley, Building with Bananas: People Problems in the Church (Exeter: Paternoster, 1978).

[13] Gloria Gaither and William J. Gaither, “The Family of God” (1970). Lyrics lightly altered.

[14] Nehemiah 2:17 (paraphrased).

[15] The Westminster Confession of Faith 13.2.

[16] See Ephesians 6:13.

[17] Norman Macleod, “Courage, Brother, Do Not Stumble” (1857). Lyrics lightly altered.

[18] Robert Frost, “Mending Wall” (1914). Paraphrased.

[19] Acts 3:13–15 (paraphrased).

[20] 1 Samuel 17:28 (paraphrased).

[21] 1 Samuel 17:32 (paraphrased).

[22] 1 Samuel 17:45–46 (paraphrased).

[23] Joseph Medlicott Scriven, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” (1855). Lyrics lightly altered.

[24] See 2 Corinthians 4:7.

[25] George Eliot, Middlemarch (1872), finale.

[26] John Bunyan, The Pilgrim’s Progress, part 2 (1684).

[27] 2 Timothy 2:3 (paraphrased).

[28] 2 Corinthians 4:8–9 (ESV).

[29] Jude 4 (KJV).

[30] Psalm 127:1 (KJV).

[31] Jimmy Perry, “Who Do You Think You Are Kidding, Mr. Hitler?” (1968). Lyrics lightly altered.

[32] Psalm 2:1 (paraphrased).

[33] See Psalm 2:12.

[34] Matthew 10:31; Luke 12:7, 32 (ESV).

[35] William Fiske Sherwin, “Sound the Battle Cry” (1869).

[36] Arthur Campbell Ainger, “God Is Working His Purpose Out” (1894).

[37] The Journals of Jim Elliot, ed. Elisabeth Elliot (Grand Rapids: Revell, 1978), 174.

[38] Edith Gilling Cherry, “We Rest on Thee” (1895).