Overview of Nehemiah

In our morning services, we’ve just finished working our way through the book of Nehemiah. In light of that, Stephen was asked to write an overview of the book for the Messenger Magazine (RPCI youth magazine that has recently gone online-only). You can read it below or on the Messenger website:

In the aftermath of Covid, the theme of rebuilding is at the forefront of many people’s minds. Nations around the world are wondering how they can rebuild their economies after the events of the last two years. Business owners are trying to rebuild their businesses after lockdowns, and many people are wondering if friendships can be rebuilt after not seeing the other person for a year or more.

For churches, too, the minds of many will be on rebuilding – whether in terms of fractured relationships as people have disagreed over restrictions, numerical decline as those worshipping in our churches before covid have now moved elsewhere, stopped worshipping anywhere, or are now simply no longer physically able to be present.

So the challenges of rebuilding our lives and our churches in the wake of Covid are enough in themselves to make us turn to the books of Ezra and Nehemiah, which are all about rebuilding. But far more profound than recovering from Covid is that need to rebuild in the face if the longer-term decline of the church of Jesus Christ in the UK. To fight back against compromise, distraction, defeatism and loss of purpose. And such rebuilding is at the very heart of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.

There’s a bit of debate as to whether Nehemiah should be regarded as a separate book, or just as the final part of the book of Ezra. Even if we choose to consider the book of Nehemiah separately, it’s important to remember that the process of rebuilding had already started and stopped a number of times before Nehemiah arrived. Nehemiah is actually the third person to come back to Jerusalem to lead the work of rebuilding – which in itself is a reminder that God’s work doesn’t begin and end with us.

In 587BC, the nation of Judah had been taken into exile in Babylon for their sin (other deportations took place in 605 and 582). In 538BC, a man called Zerubbabel had come back with some other exiles and they had rebuilt the altar – and then after much opposition – and with over two decades in between – rebuilt the temple (you can read about that in Ezra chapters 1-6). The rebuilding of the temple in 515BC came about after encouragement by the prophets Haggai and Zechariah.

Then, 13 years before Nehemiah shows up, Ezra had led a second wave of returning exiles. By that time, the people had again fallen into sin, and so Ezra had preached God’s word and led them in repentance. We read about that in Ezra 7 through 10 (Ezra chapter 7 is the first mention of Ezra in the book – the events of the first six chapters took place 80 years before he arrived in Jerusalem!). The prophet Malachi probably ministered in Jerusalem between the time of Zerubbabel and Ezra.

Nehemiah’s story begins when he’s serving the Persian king Artaxerxes. His brother returns from Judah and Nehemiah hears that the returned exiles are ‘in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down and its gates are destroyed by fire’ (1:3). Nehemiah responds by weeping, fasting and praying. As the old Scottish preacher Alexander Maclaren once commented: ‘No man will do worthy work at rebuilding the walls who has not wept over the ruins’.

Nehemiah’s weeping was undoubtedly not simply over the state of Jerusalem, but over ‘the dismal failure of the remnant to carry out the purpose of their return’ (Maclaren). This failure stemmed not so much from a deliberate refusal to do what they knew they should, but from a spirit of defeatism – which can so easily infect our churches and sap our strength. Those in Jerusalem only saw the obstacles – Nehemiah saw them too, but he also knew the power of God.

After praying about it for some months, Nehemiah took an opportunity that arose to ask the king’s permission to go to Jerusalem and begin the work of rebuilding. The rest of chapters 2-6 describe the process of rebuilding, and the opposition that Nehemiah faced from the ‘unholy Trinity’ of Tobiah, Sanballat and Geshem. Despite this, and despite efforts even from some of their own people to undermine the work, the wall was finished in fifty-two days. This was much to the dismay of their enemies, who ‘perceived that this work had been accomplished with the help of our God’.

If chapters 1-6 describe the physical rebuilding of the city, chapters 7-13 describe the spiritual rebuilding of the people. We see in these chapters how the greatest threat to the prosperity of God’s people comes not from their enemies, but from their own sin. Chapters 8-11 describe a time of Reformation and Revival where the people ask Ezra to read from the Book of the Law of Moses. As God’s word is read and explained the people weep at how far short they’ve fallen, joyfully make changes to their lives based on what they’ve heard, confess their sins and make a solemn covenant with God. Some of the people also willing chose to go and live in Jerusalem – putting the interests of God’s people above their own, even when it comes to where to set up home.

The book ends disappointingly, however. 12 years after the period of rebuilding and their covenant with God, Nehemiah returns to Jerusalem after some time away to find the people systematically breaking their covenant commitments. Although Nehemiah shows courageous leadership in the face of compromise and calls the people back to being who they say they are, you get the sense that his final reforms won’t be any more successful than others in bringing about permanent in change. In that way, the end of the book of Nehemiah points us forward to Jesus Christ, a leader who has the power to bring true and permanent change – not just to our outward behaviour, but to our hearts.  

What does God teach us in the book?
- Like every part of the Bible, the book of Nehemiah ultimately points us to Jesus Christ. As Nehemiah left a glittering career to return to Jerusalem and wept over the state of the city, he points us forward to one who would give up far more (Phil 2:6-8), weep over the same city (Luke 19:41), but go further than Nehemiah and not just risk his life but actually give up his life for his people.

- The book of Nehemiah also shows that there’s nothing greater we could devote our lives to than seeing the church of Jesus Christ built up. Yes, it will involve sacrifice and opposition, and there will be many things that could discourage us. But doing so will result in much joy (8:10, 12:43) as we follow in the footsteps of the one who ‘loved the church and gave himself up for her’ (Eph 5:25).

- Nehemiah also repeatedly highlights areas where we’ll be tempted to become like the world around us: Intermarrying with them (10:30; 13:23-29), buying from them on the Sabbath (10:31; 13:15-22), and failing to give to God’s work (10:32-29; 13:10-14). The terrible consequences that a believer marrying an unbeliever will tend to have on any children resulting from the marriage is particularly highlighted (13:24).

- In the characters of Nehemiah and Ezra we also see the state (represented by Nehemiah) working for the good of the church (represented by Ezra). There is no concept that the state should attempt to be neutral when it comes to God’s law.

- In chapter 10 we see a time of Reformation and Revival culminating in the people covenanting themselves to God. In our own day we should expect to see Reformation and Revival leading to a recommitment to the covenant these islands have already made to God (The Solemn League & Covenant of 1643).

- The book ends as it begins by pointing us to Jesus Christ. When Nehemiah returns to Jerusalem, he finds that the people have fallen away from their covenant commitments in his absence. This points us forward to the return of one greater than Nehemiah, and the question: ‘When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’ (Luke 18:8)

- This disappointing end to the book – even though the people are back in the Promised Land, with the temple and walls rebuilt, worship restored and their enemies subdued – shows us that we need Jesus, not just outward Reformation.

Church lunches resume!

On 1st March 2020 we began what were planned to be church lunches on the first Lord’s Day of each month. Due to Covid, we hadn’t been able to hold them since, but with restrictions relaxing in Scotland we resumed them this past Lord’s Day. It was great to have fellowship together and take another step back to normal church life! (Sadly we didn’t get photos of everyone who was there).

God willing, September’s church lunch will be on 12th September when the GO Team are with us, but normally you can plan on there being a lunch on the first Sunday of the month. There will always be extra food for visitors and everyone is welcome!

The Comfort of Knowing an Unchanging God in a Changing World

John Sprott was born in Stoneykirk in 1780 and had a fascinating life. Having trained as a minister, but unable to find a congregation in Scotland, he moved to Nova Scotia in Canada at the age of 38. A book about his life, written by his son, is largely made up of letters his sent back to Scotland, including many written to the editor of this very paper. Some of his printed letters were read as far away as Sri Lanka, and recent scholarly research on him notes that ‘his articles in the Galloway newspapers were undoubtedly useful for those considering leaving Scotland, for he would draw on his personal experiences to explain what was actually involved’.

Although he achieved much in Nova Scotia, part of his heart was always in Scotland. He said at one point that seeing crossing the Atlantic was now such an easy thing – and only took ten days (!) – he would like to get home once every seven years to see the heather and breathe its fragrance.

However, on one of these journeys home, at the age of 63, when he got back to Stoneykirk, he knew nobody. He asked an old man: ‘Where are my school-fellows?’, and the man pointed to the burial ground. Sprott said that he couldn’t move three steps without treading on the dust of some well-known acquaintance.

Describing the trip to a friend he said: ‘I was quite lost. The dark blue sea, the dark brown hills of Loch Ryan, and the green woods of Culhorn have the same appearance which they had when I was at school, but the old inhabitants have all disappeared. There are new merchants in the shops, new lawyers at the bar and new judges on the bench.

Summing it up, he said: ‘I crossed the long sea to repair the stock of friendship and renew the acquaintances of early years, but this was impossible’.

I wonder whether you can identify with that? You don’t have to move away somewhere and then come back to find your hometown changed. Perhaps you’ve seen many of your schoolfriends already buried – or else move away. Maybe you have always lived in the same place, and while it’s the same in some ways, it’s very different in others. Familiar shops closed have closed, old buildings have been demolished or fallen into disrepair, and new ones built in their place. There are new roads, new schools, new people.

All that is even aside from the changes that the pandemic has accelerated. Changes to how we work, how we shop and how we travel are here to stay. It can be easy to look out at it all, and say with Sprott, ‘I feel quite lost’. Or perhaps it’s not so much the changes around us that we’re as keenly aware of, as the changes in ourselves. Perhaps you can’t physically do some of the things you used to do, and it’s a daily reminder that age or ill-health has taken its toll.

It’s not hard for us to identify with the line in Abide with Me which says: ‘Change and decay in all around I see’. And yet in light of that all that, the Bible tells us that God does not change, and that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.

That truth is both challenging and comforting. It’s challenging because it means that God’s standards don’t change. It’s been said that in the beginning God created man in his image, and that ever since, man has been trying to return the compliment. But try as we might, we can’t remake God in our image. Rather than conform God to our image, we must be conformed to his – something that’s impossible for us in an of ourselves, but has been made possible through the work of the cross and by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Once we become God’s children, however, the fact that God doesn’t change becomes tremendously comforting. Because no matter what else is taken from us, he can’t be. Even if our world collapses, we can be sure that underneath the rubble, he will be there for us: unshaken and immovable. That fact also gives us confidence about the future of the church, when some denominations are forecasting that many won’t return post-Covid. But we need not fear; the church is built not on the changeableness of man, but upon the unchanging rock of the truth of God.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 25th February 2021

What happens when you die?

In light of the phenomenal death toll in Stranraer, which has been picked up by the national media, Stephen preached a sermon on Sunday morning entitled ‘What happens when you die?’. You can watch it below:

A related series of sermons, preached a couple of years ago, is entitled, One Life. Then What?

If we can be of any help at this difficult time, please don’t hesitate to get in touch.

Our response to Covid shows human life is valuable. But why?

If we can take any positives out of the events of the last year, it’s the value that our world places on human life. It’s not universal of course – some have acted in ways that have put their own lives, or the lives of others, in danger. Yet convinced by the value of human life, no Western government has hesitated to believe that it should act to prevent death at the hands of this epidemic. Of course, it could be argued that such an intense focus on Covid has meant that lives have been lost in other ways – missed cancer diagnoses, delayed operations, and suicide as a result of job loss and lack of human interaction. But what unites those on both sides of the argument is the belief that human life matters.

But if over the past year we’ve answered the question as to whether human life is valuable with a firm ‘Yes’, we seem to be a lot less sure about two other questions: Why is it valuable? And what makes life worth living? Indeed, Health Secretary Matt Hancock acknowledged in an interview earlier this month that the UK government got it wrong during the first lockdown by banning things like funerals. Hancock said that following a discussion with the Archbishop of York, he realised that ‘you have got to stay human’. Indeed, Scotland is currently the only part of the UK that isn’t allowing churches to meet for communal worship – governments in the other three nations are leaving it up to individual churches to decide.

Here in Stranraer, we voluntarily took the decision to switch to a livestream rather than meeting in person before the latest lockdown was announced. We made the decision in light of the outbreak of the new variant here which has left us, as the headline of this paper put it last week, ‘Scotland’s Covid Capital’. Particularly given those circumstances, I decided not to get involved in a legal challenge that a group of Scottish church leaders launched last week, arguing that the current ban is in breach of the Article 9 of the European Convention on Human Rights (a claim also made by Sir Edward Leigh, MP, Chairman of the Catholic Union of Great Britain).

However, as cases and hospitalisations fall, it is to be hoped that the Scottish government prioritise the reopening of churches. Of course, those involved in all kinds of businesses and organisations can make plausible arguments as to why their particular sphere should be near the top of the list to re-open when it’s safe to do so. Why should churches be unique?

Some will argue that churches should be a top priority because of mental health concerns. When people are starved of human contact and loneliness is a bigger problem than ever, taking away the opportunity for them to be together even in church surely has to be a last resort. However, churches are about – or should be about – more than that. Covid has shown us that the version of the good life we have been sold in the West, where self-fulfilment is supposed to be what life is about, and individual consumption of sex, possessions and entertainment is supposed to be all that we need, is a lie. Lockdowns have left us with those things, while stripping away everything else; and made it abundantly clear that they are not what human life is about.

That brings us back to the why question; why is human life valuable? The fact that nations around the world have prioritised human life is a stark contrast with the ancient world. In the pre-Christian, classical world, the philosophers knew there was something undeniably special about human life. However, that belief coexisted with the dehumanising treatment of large portions of the human race. Into that world, Christianity brought a message that human beings are special because we are made in the image of God. We have failed in our task as image-bearers – which explains why the world’s in the mess that it’s in – but human life is still uniquely valuable. Jesus Christ came into this world, yes to show us what we were made to be, but also to make us what we should be – by taking the punishment we deserve, and then equipping us to live the lives we were created to live. 

As a community and a nation we have demonstrated that we believe human life is valuable. Let’s not miss this unique opportunity to start asking why.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 21st January 2021.
Inspired by this article from Matthew Roberts in The Critic.