https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js

Tri-City Chinese Baptist Church

English Worship, August 18 2024

August 18, 2024: Message: God, Our Confidence | Scripture: Nehemiah 2:17-20 | Speaker: Pastor Stephen Choy

Worship Songs: The Love Of God | He Hideth My Soul | O Church Arise

Full Manuscript

Introduction

If able, please stand as I read to you from Nehemiah 2:17-20.  TWoL: 17 Then I said to them, “You see the trouble we are in, how Jerusalem lies in ruins with its gates burned. Come, let us build the wall of Jerusalem, that we may no longer suffer derision.” 18 And I told them of the hand of my God that had been upon me for good, and also of the words that the king had spoken to me. And they said, “Let us rise up and build.” So they strengthened their hands for the good work. 19 But when Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite servant and Geshem the Arab heard of it, they jeered at us and despised us and said, “What is this thing that you are doing? Are you rebelling against the king?” 20 Then I replied to them, “The God of heaven will make us prosper, and we his servants will arise and build, but you have no portion or right or claim in Jerusalem.”

During our retreat’s Q & A, Pastor Sam said, “What Christians are looking for ultimately is the assurance of their salvation.  It’s what everything comes down to.”  And I think, for the most part, he’s right because when I read through the Bible, it’s the thing we keep coming back to.  Israel is the test case.  As a small nation, it’s constantly fighting for its survival—looking for its place and peace.  They look for it in land, in kings and world powers, in sexual promiscuity, and in the worship of other gods. 

This is what the human experience is all about.  It’s about whether you can have confidence that there is a chief end to things—to your life—a purpose—a hope that leads to satisfaction.  And our text works to answer that question: how can you have confidence—an absolute assurance—of salvationHow can you have confidence that God will not forsake you, and that through him, he will help you prevail

We’re at this part of the text where Nehemiah has suffered heartbreak in hearing about Jerusalem’s broken wall.  For four months he’s cried, fasted, and prayed to the Lord for deliveranceHe’s courageously poured out his concerns to the king.  He’s received royal permission and resources to go and rebuild.  And, finally, he’s arrived.  He’s walked the city, he’s prepared his plan, and he is about to call his people to action—to arise and build, yet he knows that their first question will be: how do we know we’ll succeed?

Verses 17-20 are Nehemiah’s preemptive words to provide assurance.  They’re meant to answer the question, “why should we arise and build?”  And, for us, they are meant to be words of confidence—of assurance—when we ask, “how can I know that if I execute this plan—this life that God calls me to live—how can I know that what I’m doing matters?  How can I know that my life, in him, will stand?” 

Nehemiah has the answer for us, and it is a layered answer.  It is firstly theological.  It is secondly moral.  And it is thirdly social.  But instead of having these as our headings, I want to make them a bit more applicable for us, so we’ll begin with the theological layer by saying that you can have confidence in God to arise and build by, first, …

1) Hear the Message from God

Nehemiah begins in verses 17 and 18 with a message to Israel: “You see the trouble we’re in, how Jerusalem is in ruins.  Come and build the wall again, so that we might not be reproached any longer.”  And he continues by telling them about God’s hand that has been upon him for good and the words of the Persian king, Artaxerxes, that have further supported this cause.  Through these words, Nehemiah means to bolster Israel in their confidence by making sure their theology is adequate to sustain them. 

How does he do this?  Well, in his message, he begins by pointing out their theological problem: Jerusalem isn’t how it should be.  This city is meant to be set apart—the dwelling place of God—the home of God’s people—the hope of the nations—but look at what it’s become.  The important word in these first two verses is the word translated as ‘derision’ in the ESV.  It’s a word that is translated in other versions as reproach or disgrace.  For Jerusalem to be like this, Nehemiah is saying, is for it to be under reproach—to be disgraced—to be the taunt of the enemy—to be the shame of God and his people.

And this is the first thing any of us need to hear.  Undoubtedly, the people of Israel were intimately aware of what their city looked like.  They knew that their wall lay in ruins and that the nations taunted them for it.  But they had also become used to it—complacent and unable to notice how their city had become unacceptable, poor, and broken. 

This is, in fact, what the devil desires to do to us.  He wants us to become complacent with those things that God is imploring us not to ignore.  The devil works to distract us and to make us accustomed to those small, respectable sins or even those large, grandiose ones that we know have no place in our lives, and yet are left undealt with because we think there are more pressing issues to deal with.

Here are just a few ways that the devil works to distract us (Nancy King): he seeks to keep us busy with non-essentials.  He makes us work long hours to maintain and fund empty lifestyles.  He discourages us from spending time with family, for when homes disintegrate, there’s no refuge from work.  He overstimulates our minds with television, computers, and other forms of escape so that you can’t hear God when he speaks to you.  He fills your eyes with lust so that you have no time to look at the Bible.  He fills your attention with the pleasures and luxuries of life to keep your mind on the things of the world and not the things of heaven.  He makes you self-sufficient so that you’re filled with your own boasting and exhaustion, never knowing the joy of God’s power working through you. 

Perhaps, this sounds like some of us this morning.  Perhaps, Nehemiah’s word comes at a timely moment to remind us of the sin that we’ve become complacent and accepting of—sin that is unacceptable to God.  Perhaps, he has sent us messengers like Nehemiah to bring us out of our reproach and disgrace by providing us with an honest assessment—refurnishing us with a renewed confidence that despite our shortcomings, he still draws near to us and hopes to redeem us from ruin and disgrace.

And he does this not only by pointing out our theological problem, but he also provides us with the theological solution.  Nehemiah says, “We and our wall are in trouble.  Therefore, come, get up, let us build the wall, that we might no longer suffer derision.” 

It’s like when the doctor tells you you’re at risk for diabetes.  What will you do with that information?  Will you choose to sit until the diabetes comes or will you change your diet, sleep better, and exercise more?  Will you choose to ignore the issue or get to work? 

In the same way, it isn’t enough that Nehemiah has told Israel what their issue is.  It’s not enough even if they agree with Nehemiah and believe that God will keep his promises to raise them up and provide a Saviour from Jerusalem.  If they want to change and rectify their problem, then they, themselves, must put in the work.

Yet, we must understand that, on our own, this call is impossible for any one of us to fulfill.  One person could set out to build the wall himself, but he’ll never finish.  This is why we must notice how Nehemiah gives the command.  He doesn’t just say, “this is your problem, go off and fix it yourselves.”  He says, “See what trouble WE are in.  Come, let US build the wall so that WE might no longer be in reproach.” 

In other words, the theological solution to our theological problem of our sin isn’t just a call to work and kill it, but to understand that the work is meant to be done within the larger identity of God’s people—a people that Nehemiah defines and identifies with, himself, despite being far more important than any of them within the kingdom of Persia.  He puts himself in their shoes.  He doesn’t just tell them what their solution is, but he desires to model that solution for and with them.  Surely, you can hear the connotations with the gospel—that Christ came as one set apart—one from the greater kingdom of heaven, one who condescended himself in our likeness and bore our reproach, our disgrace, our shame upon our cross—one who defined for himself and to himself God’s new people. 

And I want to emphasize this: both Nehemiah and Christ don’t merely condescend themselves and define our new identity as a unified, covenant community, but they include themselves within the definition.  It’s no longer ‘I’ and ‘me,’ or ‘you’ and ‘them,’ but ‘we’ and ‘us’ helping one another so that none of its individual parts become complacent and willing to accept the unacceptable.

This is what is meant to motivate us and give us an unyielding confidence—that our Nehemiah doesn’t come with a message that places the onus of our problems solely on me or on you, but that in his coming he creates an ‘us’—an ‘us’ that is bolstered and secured with him who dwells and labours in our midst for us.  And by his example, we who share this common, covenant identity can commit ourselves to the full weight and breadth of whatever our task is—whatever we are called to do—whatever sin we have to kill—because we do not do it alone.  We are strengthened by the whole.

And if that isn’t enough, Nehemiah tells us that our theological solution to our theological problem is held up and held fast by theological provision.  He states, “the problem is that Jerusalem is broken—we are sinners.  The solution is that we covenantly lean upon one another.  And the provision is that God upholds it all by his own hand upon us.” 

See, how Nehemiah switches back to the singular pronouns at the start of verse 18?  “The hand of my God was upon me, and also the king spoke his words to me.”  The reason he does this is to show us the zeal of God for those who trust in him.  Israel has been apart from God.  The very fact that their walls are destroyed proves it. 

But here comes one man who has sought unceasingly the favour of the Lord, and who has witnessed his direct, divine intervention throughout it all, turning even the hand of Persian kings towards this end.  Nehemiah’s confidence is brimming, and he knows if he saddles his horse to the fate of these people, God will not forsake them because to forsake them would mean that God has forsaken Nehemiah.  And if Scripture has made anything clear in this book it’s that God will not forsake Nehemiah. 

So, too, God will not forsake Christ who is with all who believe in him.  If God will not forsake Christ, and if Christ dwells in and with you, then you can arise and build a church, a people, a ministry that the world hates, but because of him, it will not fail or fall. 

And even more astounding than this is the fact that, for those who have Christ—for those in Jerusalem who possessed Nehemiah, these words are meant to show us what a singular flame of faith can accomplish in a world of darkness.  I believe both the human and divine author intended for us to see this switch in pronouns because as important as it is for each of us to remember and lean upon the whole, God and Nehemiah’s desire is to show us how the whole needs each and every single one of us—how none of our testimonies of faith are useless before God—how he intends to do the most incredible things through insignificant vessels like you and me because, in Christ, we are made significant to him. 

This is the message from the messenger of God—that we can have an absolute confidence in our rising and in our building of this church, of his people, and of our own faith.  Make every effort not to miss it—to hear this exact message as the ground for everything that you do—that he has shown us our theological, sinful problem, that he has illuminated our theological solution in a Christ-abiding church, and that he has showered us with the theological provision of his own, good hand. 

And then, as you hear it—as you grow in your theological confidence in your heart, soul, and mind, commit yourself to that which is moral and strengthen your hands in God. 

2) Strengthen Your Hands in God

As I said, confidence to arise and build that which God calls us to arise and build begins with theology, and that theology is meant to move us into obedience—into a moral discipline and resolve.  What do I mean by that?  Well, when we look at our text, in verse 18c, from the part that says, “And they said, “let us rise up and build,” until the end of verse 19, you get a picture of two types of people—people who are saturated and grounded on good theology that then seek to follow and do all that God wants them to do compared to people who are uninfluenced or unmoved by God and can’t imagine doing the things he asks of them. 

Let’s look at the latter first—the people who are uninfluenced or unmoved by the idea of God to do the things of God.  These people are named for us as Sanballat the Horonite, Tobiah the Ammonite servant, and Geshem the Arab, and these names are important not just to identify Israel’s enemies but to locate where they’re from.  Nehemiah takes great pains to make sure we know that the Horonites and Ammonites oppose him—these people are from the northern and eastern parts around Jerusalem. 

But what about Geshem?  He’s an Arab, which means he’s from the region south of Jerusalem in the Arabian desert.  In other words, Nehemiah includes these three particular names and where they’re from to tell us that the enemies of Israel surrounded it on every side.  We’re meant to see and feel the impossibility of escape for these Jews and the deep abiding threat to their culture and beliefs—this sense that Israel is in real danger, and they face perpetual pressure to align themselves with the outside world to survive.

It’s, in fact, quite like what we, as Christians, experience today—that on every side we find not just opposition but an excess of opposition—an overabundance of options—all of which are waiting to lead and lure us away from our devotion to God—to destroy our theological identity.  And just like Israel, we must ask and choose: who will be our security?

These men exemplify for us the best option apart from God.  I’m sure that all of them had their religions and theologies.  But when they heard Nehemiah’s charge for Israel to do what they didn’t like, who is it that they make an appeal to?  In whom, do they place their greatest hope and fear as they attempt to intimidate Israel?  It’s not their gods, religions, or theologies.  It’s the power and threat of the world. 

They try to intimidate Israel with what kings and nations can do to them: “What’s this you’re doing?  Are you rebelling against the king?”—as if the king is the thing to fear the most.  To them, it’s nonsensical that Nehemiah and Israel might make moral decisions on how to act based upon that which they cannot see.  These men can give their worship in their temples to their invisible gods all they want, but in the end, the thing that they hide behind isn’t their god/gods.  It’s the prevailing influence of the day—the popular, powerful opinion.

And what does Nehemiah say shall be their fate? Well, here’s a preview of verse 20.  He says it won’t be good because that security will not last—they won’t be remembered.  It might satisfy them for today, but it’ll all be swept up and thrown out by tomorrow.  We see this in our day, don’t we?  All the world’s trust in the latest entertainers, fads, and politicians.  Church, no matter how great they seem, they won’t last, and they won’t save! 

But these men—these Horonites, Ammonites, and Arabs—and their fickle appetites stand in stark contrast to those who are resolute and sure upon the principles and foundations of our immovable God.  What characterizes these confident Israelites?  Perhaps you don’t see it so clearly in the English, but in the Hebrew, there’s a parallel structure in verse 18. 

In the first part of the verse, Nehemiah describes the reason why he knows that they will succeed in the building of Jerusalem’s wall: because “the hand of God, it was upon me for good.”  And how does Israel respond to Nehemiah’s report?  We’re told, “so they strengthened their hands for good.”  God’s hand was upon him for good, so they strengthened their hands for good.  In other words, because God helped Nehemiah receive what was good for him, and because Nehemiah was there with Israel, they knew God would do what was good for them if they were determined to do what was right according to him—not swayed by the prevailing influence of the day.  “God will make us prosper.”

Let me put this another way.  We call this kind of confident acting faith, and faith is a moral response; it’s not a blind, ignorant choice.  Faith understands that God is at work to do the impossible based upon the revelation that he has already done the impossible.  This is what we see in Hebrews 11:1, isn’t it?  That faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not yet seen. 

Confidence to arise and build is, first, theological, and then it is moral—it is a matter of faith—a conviction in things not yet seen with eyes but wholly assured in our hearts—a conviction based upon our own witness that our God is good—a conviction that grounds our actions in what is right and good for us, in response, to do.  It is upon God’s proven character that Nehemiah and Israel rebuilt Jerusalem.  So, too, are we to rebuild our communities, our cities, and our church because God has proved his faithfulness to us in an even greater way though the life, death, and resurrection of his Son.

Arise and build with confidence in God because all that is good comes solely from him, and only those who believe and act according to his will shall know what is good, perfect, and acceptable in his sight.  Strengthen your hands morally in God.  Then, lastly, as your assurance moves from theological to moral, let it also bring you into the social as you find shelter with God.

3) Find Shelter With God

These last words in verse 20, which form Nehemiah’s response to his opponents are staggering not only because Nehemiah makes no reference to the permission he’s received from the king, but also because they’re the type of words that gets a man killed.  Just imagine the scene and the context.  These men have literally torn down walls and killed Jews before.  They are zealous for their position, their security, and their prosperity.  But here comes Nehemiah, and instead of speaking peace to them, like any of us probably would’ve done, he seeks to make the dividing line clear. 

On the one hand, those who belong to God, and who belong in the place that God has set aside for them, they’ll do just fine, says Nehemiah.  But you who place your fear and trust in everything but God—you shall have no portion in God’s inheritance, you shall possess no righteousness that God will acknowledge, and you will not be remembered—you will not be memorialized—in the city over which God is bringing his people to rest. 

In other words, Nehemiah condemns these men.  He says they’ll be wiped from the face of the earth as insignificant things to God.  This is a frightful statement because in those days, to lack the recognition of God (or of the gods) would be the worst punishment and fate, and like I said, you’d wholly expect for a fight to break out between Israel and these nations to prove their respective destinies.  But the thing is, we don’t know what happens for a moment.  It seems the author intentionally leaves us in suspense, partly, because, in this immediate passage, the outcome doesn’t matter. 

Rather, what matters are the two things that we might draw out of this final confrontation as application to ourselves.  The first is to recognize that when we have heard the theological message, and when we have strengthened the moral resolve of our hands because of that message, we ought to embrace that our knowledge and belief in the truth will always have a cost. 

Matthew 10 says outright, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth.  I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.  For I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against mother […] A person’s enemies will be those of his own household.  Whoever loves father, mother, son, or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.  Whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”

This is the cost of rising up and building.  This is the courage that ought to mark everyone of us who calls ourselves Christian—that we should expect our theology and morality to divide us socially when we inevitably go out into the world and proclaim the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.  It may even kill us physically.  In fact, one of the reasons why, I think, the author is divinely inspired to leave this story open-ended is because the same kind of events would take place again hundreds of years later. 

Another man would come and call his people to arise and build—to go and make disciples of all nations by proclaiming his absolute authority over all the earth—and in his declaration of that theological message, he would strengthen his hands in resolve, and he would confront his enemies with the truth, only in the climatic moment of this story, we get to see how it resolves.  Because instead of going on to build up the wall, our Christ would be taken, and he himself would display the truth of God’s faithfulness and love for us when those hands that were strong enough to create the universe—they were nailed as our assurance of salvation upon a tree.  He lives and dies so that we, who were his enemies, we who nailed him to that cross, might live—and live abundantly—live confidently.  We need to know the social cost of the cross and decide whether it is worthy of everything we hold dear because the world did not like Christ, and if we truly love him, they will not like us too.

Yet, the second application from verse 20 is the hope that is offered to those who suffer in their faithfulness to God, the words for which come from that same passage in Matthew 10: on the one hand, whoever finds his life—who seeks his life for himself—will lose it, but, on the other hand, whoever loses his life for the sake of Christ will find it. 

If your fear and trust lie outside of Jerusalem—outside of the plans and promises of God—outside of God himself, then you have no portion, right, or claim with him.  But if your fear and trust are in God through the message of our Nehemiah and your strength is in his good, resolute commands, then yours is a shelter with him forever—yours is the portion, the righteousness, the remembrance and resurrection with God forever.  Find the assurance of your satisfaction there in our God through Jesus, even when the world stands against you on every side, and he promises that he will prosper you as you arise and build, for what we do, we do because of his faithfulness.  We do it because of his abundant, assured grace.

Comments are closed.