Sept. 29, 2024: Message: No Greater God Than this | Scripture: Nehemiah 6:1-14 | Speaker: Pastor Stephen Choy
Worship Songs: Behold Our God | Amazing Grace | O Great God
Full Manuscript
Introduction
If able, please stand as I read to you from Neh 6:1-14. TWoL: 1 Now when Sanballat and Tobiah and Geshem the Arab and the rest of our enemies heard that I had built the wall and that there was no breach left in it (although up to that time I had not set up the doors in the gates), 2 Sanballat and Geshem sent to me, saying, “Come and let us meet together at Hakkephirim in the plain of Ono.” But they intended to do me harm. 3 And I sent messengers to them, saying, “I am doing a great work and I cannot come down. Why should the work stop while I leave it and come down to you?” 4 And they sent to me four times in this way, and I answered them in the same manner. 5 In the same way Sanballat for the fifth time sent his servant to me with an open letter in his hand. 6 In it was written, “It is reported among the nations, and Geshem also says it, that you and the Jews intend to rebel; that is why you are building the wall. And according to these reports you wish to become their king. 7 And you have also set up prophets to proclaim concerning you in Jerusalem, ‘There is a king in Judah.’ And now the king will hear of these reports. So now come and let us take counsel together.” 8 Then I sent to him, saying, “No such things as you say have been done, for you are inventing them out of your own mind.” 9 For they all wanted to frighten us, thinking, “Their hands will drop from the work, and it will not be done.” But now, O God, strengthen my hands.
10 Now when I went into the house of Shemaiah the son of Delaiah, son of Mehetabel, who was confined to his home, he said, “Let us meet together in the house of God, within the temple. Let us close the doors of the temple, for they are coming to kill you. They are coming to kill you by night.” 11 But I said, “Should such a man as I run away? And what man such as I could go into the temple and live?3 I will not go in.” 12 And I understood and saw that God had not sent him, but he had pronounced the prophecy against me because Tobiah and Sanballat had hired him. 13 For this purpose he was hired, that I should be afraid and act in this way and sin, and so they could give me a bad name in order to taunt me. 14 Remember Tobiah and Sanballat, O my God, according to these things that they did, and also the prophetess Noadiah and the rest of the prophets who wanted to make me afraid.
We’re in our fourth week of our mini-series, answering the question, “What is the Christian life like?” And thus far we’ve answered that the Christian life expects fearful opposition both from the world out there and from within its own community. Yet in that fearful opposition, we can overcome not because we, ourselves, are capable, but because we have a God greater than all fearful things. It is our trust in him that enables us to overcome.
And what does that kind of trust look like? It doesn’t look like a fear of a temporary world, but a fear of an infinite God who should destroy us, yet who preserves us by his mercy and who saves us by his sovereign, unfailing grace. This is what the Christian life is like. It is a life that acknowledges that there is no god in this world—in the entire universe—like our God. This is what Nehemiah 4-6 is trying to teach us desperately and repeatedly: God is all-satisfying and sufficient for everything. God is to be feared, revered, and praised above all, even ourselves.
It’s this, particular, fearing God more than loving ourselves that Nehemiah means to instill in us this week. And I want to take you through three ways of fearing God in order to combat the temptation of inordinate love of self—loving our own praise, loving our own righteousness, and loving our own safety—three responses to these natural and sinful dispositions that we have towards ourselves. We begin by combatting our love for our own praise by focusing on the work of God.
1) Focus on the Work of God (to overcome the praise of self)
Here’s what we see in our first four verses. At this time, Nehemiah is finishing the wall that he came to Jerusalem to build but for a few additional items that still needed his attention, and he had done a great job thus far. In fact, it says that he built the wall so well that there was no breach left in it—not a single hole or noticeable imperfection. For any normal person, they would probably sit back at this point, look at what he’d done, breathe a sigh of relief, and complete the rest at his own pace.
Maybe some of you know what I’m talking about—that sense of security that we get knowing that we only have a little more to do, so instead of push through, we relax, take a break, procrastinate, and, maybe, complete it later. It’s a very human thing to do.
But what our passage teaches us is that it’s not just a human inclination; it’s the very thing that the devil relies on about us to take advantage and to distract us from what we should be doing. Just look, not only is Nehemiah tempted to slow down and rest for himself, but his enemies, Sanballat and his entourage, come, and they call Nehemiah to leave the city and its walls and to meet with them just outside of Jerusalem in a neutral, unassuming area.
Their words are tantamount to saying, “Hey, I know we’ve been hard on you before—we’ve put you through a lot of grief, but we can see all that you’ve done. Clearly, you’re great at what you do. We, too, are great at what we do. Why don’t we meet and celebrate our collective greatness.”
This is what the devil wants to do with our human inclinations. He wants not only to take us from the safety of God’s protection—from the clear directions and instructions that he’s given us to safeguard us. He wants to drag us from the walls that God’s fought to establish for us, bring us into the council of the wicked, and make us trust and find satisfaction in ourselves. He wants to surround us with people who instill in us a belief about our own greatness. He counts on us wanting praise. He counts on us celebrating ourselves before the celebration is warranted.
Then, when we are most self-involved—when we’re at the height of our own revelry and hubris—when we’re isolated, laid out in the open, living a life outside the walls and protections afforded to us by the One who loves us—that’s when he seeks to devour us. The devil and his minions are playing the long game, and the unfortunate thing is that, for most of us, he doesn’t have to wait very long. For most of us, it takes only a few moments before we fall into that danger of walking into the presence of that Sanballat and Tobiah—to give ourselves over to that sin that we’ll never be able to take back.
Why? Because we love ourselves and our praise and our glory too much, and when it feels like God’s not giving it to us on our terms, in our time, before the work is truly done, we go looking for it in all the other places. We crave it. We don’t want to finish the job, if it means we can get all the rewards first. Just take my son, for example, he’ll be eating dinner, and Candace or I will accidentally start eating our dessert in front of him, and as he is mid-chew, with the food in his mouth, he will actually spit out that food into his hand, throw it across the room, and whine until he gets whatever it is that we’re eating.
We’re chomping at the bit for glory, even when we don’t yet deserve it, or more importantly, even when we’re not yet ready for it, and the devil is all too willing to give it to us as long as it means we abandon the city, leave those doors unset, and forget the work isn’t finished. Because he knows, it doesn’t matter how much work has been completed, if he can compromise some of it, eventually, he’ll be able to compromise all of it.
But here’s the thing about Nehemiah: see, we’re told that these thugs intended to do him harm, but it’s not clear that he actually knew they intended to do him harm at that time. It’s possible that he suspected it. Yet, what I find more likely is that as he’s thinking back on all these events as he’s writing, he’s realizing based upon their subsequent actions that they meant evil upon him. He’s given us this detail about their intentions not because he, necessarily, had special insight—we don’t have any specifics about informants telling him these things. Rather, what he wants us to see is how the fear of God saves him.
These are two individual facts. They intended him evil or harm, and Nehemiah intended to carry on with the work that was not complete. All he, likely, knew and thought is that they wanted to celebrate him—to make him feel important. All the context that he, likely, had was that this was his opportunity to get ahead—to escape the drudgery of his daily task. I said two weeks ago, it’s likely that as the royal cupbearer—someone used to lavish living, castles, gold, silver, and bronze—he didn’t particularly like construction.
Yet, how does he respond to the temptation of hubris and self-advancement? He responds by focusing on the task that God gave him—being satisfied in that—seeing it through until every jot and iota had been fulfilled. He commits himself to it despite his likely desire in his heart for the glory that these tireless and powerful men offered. How? By fearing his God: “How can I come to you when the work isn’t finished,” he says. And what’s the outcome of his fear? “But they intended to do me harm,” and yet no harm came my way.
Perhaps, you’re thinking right now that Pastor Stephen is up here preaching that we should all become workaholics—people obsessed and unable to leave their work. So, let me clarify that this isn’t what I’m saying because a workaholic is someone who commits him or herself to doing something despite the needs around them to do otherwise. It’s someone who is more interested on doing what pleases himself instead of what God is pleased for him to do.
It doesn’t have to be a person who simply can’t leave the office, but it can very much be a father who would rather place his effort and time in his ministry at church—in small groups—in youth groups—in Sunday School, or maybe even in preaching and teaching, instead of discipling his wife and kids, or a teenager who’d rather play video games instead of obey the requests of his or her father and mother.
In other words, workaholism is just a euphemism for idolatry. It isn’t simply an overzealousness for that thing you’re paid to do from 9-5; it’s whatever you’re giving yourself over to instead of what God has called you to do, and you can bank on the fact that the devil is using every bit of your self-centeredness to surround you with evil—to enslave your heart by rejecting the protection and love offered by God in his city.
The difference between a workaholic and Nehemiah is that Nehemiah sets his life—his heart—his love—on whatever God desires him to do, and he does it to his best—with his full determination—regardless of the task. If it’s building a wall, he does it with unswerving focus. If it’s protecting the city, he commits himself to it night and day. If it’s making sure that his people had enough to eat, he’s feeding them. If it was protecting his family from being taken advantage of, he was the man in the middle securing their justice.
Nehemiah was focused on his calling—on the practical things, common things, difficult things, but he did it with a supernatural unction and zeal because he knew, more than it serving his people, his enemies, or even himself, it served his God. And because it served his God, we know, based on how Nehemiah records these events, that God supernaturally made him invincible for the task.
How does the Christian display a fear of God more than his or her love and praise of self? It’s by focusing on the work given to us by God. It’s by understanding that the only way harm will not come to you—the kind of harm that lands you in an eternal state of suffering and pain—is by following and obeying your God until the end. This isn’t legalism. This isn’t works righteousness. This is holiness spurred and enabled by God’s initiating graciousness. He gives us work, and he calls us to obedience for our own good.
The Christian life is fearing God more than you love the praise of yourself by focusing on the tasks of God. So, give yourself to it, whatever it is. Then, as you do it, know that the world will inevitably stand against and accuse you because you are doing what you’re supposed to be doing, but the Lord is with you, and this leads us to our second point, namely, that as you think about how to respond and vindicate your name to those accusations, make sure that you seek your strength and vindication from God alone.
2) Seek the Strength of God
Four times Sanballat and his cast of villains attempt to lure Nehemiah out of the safety of God’s city to exalt in his own hubris and accomplishments, and four times he rejects them because he is focused on the work of God. So, perhaps out of frustration, Sanballat sends, for a fifth time, his servant to confront Nehemiah, only this time he goes with an open letter accusing Nehemiah of sedition and insurrection against the Persian king.
The words that Sanballat uses against Nehemiah are taken from the mouth of the prophet, Zechariah, who prophesied under Ezra that a king would rise from Judah. So, Sanballat’s words aren’t unfounded. Rather, he’s manipulating the prophecy to make it sound like this kingship is something that Nehemiah is planning for himself or for one of his vassals.
Now, we know, and Nehemiah knows, that this is an absolute falsehood. He isn’t planning for a king. He may believe that a prophesied king is coming, but he isn’t seeking to install that king himself or to challenge the current Persian rule. Nehemiah is loyal to Artaxerxes and has no intention of usurpation or stealing the king’s power.
Yet, this open letter is a threat for a couple of reasons. The first is because under any other occupation—under any other person not named Nehemiah—this would garner the king’s instant attention and anger. These Persian kings were deeply imperfect and incredibly paranoid about their rule. Artaxerxes himself was the product of a line of brothers and friends who had tried to steal the throne from his father, so he knew what danger he was in, and he was jealous to keep his privilege. So, a letter like this would pose a very imminent threat upon the life of the accused and the lives of anyone associated with him.
But, secondly, this letter is problematic for Nehemiah not just because it endangers his people in its accusations, but it’s an open letter accusing him of such things. It’s not sealed, which means it was likely read out in the open—or accessible by the public—by other priests or other elders of the community who could read—and in their reading of it, they might become confused or angered. Did Nehemiah come to help us or to help himself? Did he come to bolster us or condemn us? Is he our friend or foe?
See, what this letter does is it threatens to stain the reputation and righteousness of Nehemiah in the eyes of his own people. It makes them possibly distrust him, and if not distrust him, then it at least creates a separation between him and them in such a way where maybe they don’t support him or listen to him as avidly as they once did. It makes them think, “Keeping on with this work and finishing the wall with a man accused of such serious things might not be a great idea. Maybe, this is the time for us to say, ‘I did not know him,’ when the Sanballat’s and Tobiah’s of the world ask, ‘didn’t we see you with him?’”
The temptation, conversely, for Nehemiah here is to let the work go—to move away from his responsibilities—to cleanse his hands, so-to-speak, from the burden and blame that he knew his people might unjustly attribute to him. He’s worked hard for his good reputation. He’s done great work. He’s established and unified a once desecrated, separated city. It would be a shame to see it all go to waste when they were so close to finishing. Wouldn’t it be better to keep what was done, instead of risking it all—instead of doing everything that God asked them to do?
And this is the temptation and love of self that plagues us all. Just think of that last time you decided not to open your mouth and share the gospel with that unbeliever. What held you back? Was it the threat to your physical health? Was it the loss of money? Was it the possibility of losing your job? I can almost guarantee you that for most of us none of these things were our first concern. No, almost without a doubt, our first concern was how this person might lose respect of me—how I’ll lose face if they don’t listen to me—how they’ll label me a fundamentalist or radicalist or worse-yet a bigot.
Our first struggle with the faithful declaration of the gospel isn’t in the loss of tangible things—it’s in the loss of our reputation—in our standing—in our righteousness before the eyes of those who we want to respect and listen to us—from those whom we think can justify us and secure us. Right? We, at base, think that our vindication and our self-esteem are grounded in our circumstances—in how well we are liked.
So, what do we do? For those of us, at least, who pray—how do we pray? We pray, “God change my circumstances! Make my friend soft to the gospel. Make my friend ask me for my opinion on the gospel—give me the opportunity to live by faith.” This sounds like a good prayer, right?
But look at how Nehemiah prays in verse 9—these are called arrow prayers—prayers that we shoot out into the darkness so that the piercing light of God’s presence and peace might push away the night. How is it that he prays? He doesn’t pray, “God change my circumstances.” He doesn’t pray, “God cast out the Sanballats and Tobiahs and make my life easier.” No. He prays, “O God, strengthen my hands—help me persevere in this.”
He’s asking, “God, take these things attacking my heart—these attitudes—these loves of self—my respectability—my standing before these people—my righteousness in their eyes—take my need of these things away, and help me find my sufficiency in you and you, alone. Be my strength, my safety, and the standard of my success.”
This is what a proper fear in God looks like. This is how we overcome the love of our own image—our own self-righteousness. It’s not by complaining our case or seeking to escape the difficult situations that we might face—these are just forms of self-centeredness. Rather, we’re meant to recognize that even our struggles are good gifts to us from him so that in our weakness we might prove his unfailing strength—that he is sufficient to vindicate us.
The opinions of man—the love of our own reputation and respectability in the world—all of that is but for a moment, but the Word of our God—the faithfulness of our God—the love of our God—the hope of our God—the grace of our God—the presence of our God—the promises of our God—they are forever. So, when the world seeks to repudiate you, find your strength in God for your righteousness more than in yourself. Then, lastly, when persecution comes, and it threatens more than your character—when it threatens your life, place your fear not in the prospect of death but in God who gives you peace on his terms.
3) Trust the Peace-Giving Prerogatives of God
Some of what Nehemiah experiences is intensely life threatening, and these threats are coming from all over. They are coming from Sanballat. They’re coming in the form of open letters and the temptation of Israel to turn against him. And here, in verses 10-14, they even come from his own priests and Levites. Shemaiah is likely a Levite or a priest—someone who has access to the temple—someone whose prophetic and outspoken word would have been well regarded. He would have been what we consider to be a pastor or a deacon today.
And what does this pastor or deacon do? He tempts Nehemiah into cowardice, and not only cowardice, but he counsels him to break the law of God—to have Nehemiah, who is not a priest or a Levite, go into the temple—into the Holy of Holies—to shut himself in there so that he might escape the threat on his life.
In other words, Shemaiah’s counsel to Nehemiah is, even if you look like a coward by running away, and even if you break the law of God by entering the holy places, so what? At least you’ll save your life. Make it about yourself. Take care of you, first, whatever the cost.
But how does Nehemiah respond? He doesn’t know right away that Shemaiah is lying to him and seeking, merely, to disgrace him. To Nehemiah, these are true threats. Death becomes a very real possibility to him in that moment. And yet, isn’t it so clear by Nehemiah’s words that he would rather die than sin—that he’d rather give up his life than offend his God?
And we ask, how does he do it? How does Nehemiah withstand attack, incrimination, and intimidation again-and-again-and-again? Over and over, what we see is that all these tactics by Sanballat and Tobiah are meant not only to push Nehemiah into sin but to push him into sin by making him afraid. They want to grind him down and make him squirm—to put himself above his people—to put himself above his city—to put himself above his God. How is it that he perseveres?
You might recall how Nehemiah ends his parenthesis in chapter 5, verse 19 after we find out that he’s been feeding his hungry people out of his own generosity for twelve straight years: “Remember for my good, O my God, all that I have done for this people.” He doesn’t ask for reward or recognition. He asks for nothing but to be at peace—to be remembered and at rest with however God, in his almighty, sovereign prerogatives, might deal with him. He leaves his fate—his weariness—his longing in the hands of God to whom belongs all authority, dominion, power, and praise.
And here, as he is weary in threats, accusations, and with his own life on the line in 6:14, Nehemiah ends with a similar refrain: “Remember these enemies of mine, O my God, according to these things that they did, and also the prophetess Noadiah and the rest of the prophets who wanted to make me afraid—who wanted to make me fear them and for my own life more than I fear you.” He asks for no punishment—simply that God might remember.
Perhaps, this seems like resignation in Nehemiah’s voice. Perhaps, you are thinking that this seems like a kind of pitiable ending—that Nehemiah might leave the confrontation and his courageous effort against these struggles with a, “I trust you to do however you’re pleased to do with me and my enemies, O God. I leave us in your hands as we go on with our lives, doing that which you are pleased for us to do, and waiting until you bring us home.” Perhaps, this seems like a measly, weak way to close.
But if this is our thinking, it is simply because you do not know the God you are called to fear. The following is a transcript that some of you may have heard or read before in other things—it’s stuck with me ever since the first time I heard it—I can’t remember where, but it’s a conversation between a U.S. naval ship and Canadian authorities somewhere near the coast of Newfoundland.
Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: Uh. We recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.
Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid a collision.
Americans: This is the captain of a U.S. naval ship. I say again, divert your course.
Canadians: No, I say again, you divert your course.
Americans: This is the aircraft carrier USS Lincoln, the second largest ship in the United States Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers, and numerous support vessels. I say again, that’s one-five degrees north, or countermeasures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.
Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call!
Nehemiah’s prayer is no resignation. And fearing our God—the God of the Bible—the God of the Universe—the God of the Gospel who satisfies all our fears by sending his own Son to die upon a cross—fearing him is no measly or weak way to live, and you can be assured that it is the only security in our life and death.
What we need to remember in this is that we don’t start or finish, truly, as Nehemiah. No, in this story, we are the Sanballats, the Tobiahs, the Geshems, maybe even the false priest, Shemaiah—those who look the part of God’s people, but don’t fear the God of the people. We are the enemies of God—the ones who plot against his righteous Nehemiah and seek to thwart his kingdom purposes at all costs. Those who deny, reject, and betray him constantly. Those who think very highly of ourselves and try to lead others more holy than us into their sin.
And this is why Jesus, our Christ, is so important and so much greater than this great man, Nehemiah, that we read about here. Because where Nehemiah was called to fulfill every jot and iota of God’s work in his life to escape the evil intended for him, our Christ fulfilled every jot and iota of the law of God, yet he suffered on that cross for our evil.
Where Nehemiah suffered accusation but found vindication in the strength of God to finish the wall, our Christ suffered accusation so that we might possess his vindication and righteousness through his crucifixion. And where Nehemiah trusted the prerogatives of God in order to remain above reproach and maintain his peace with God, our Christ, who is God, became our reproach, our disgrace, our sin, and he does this so that we might no longer have to fear the God of Israel as those who stand against him, but as those who are brought in, dwell with him, and receive the glory of him who died upon that tree.
This is what it means to be Christian. It means standing in the face of death with a resolute confidence in a greater life and in a greater love than our own. Live and die to him in a manner worthy of your living and dying. Trust him and his peaceful prerogatives for your life by fearing him more than you love yourself. Fear him above all things for he is God, and I promise you, there is none greater for us than he.
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