Read an Excerpt
Walking With Nehemiah
Your Community Is Your Congregation
By Joseph W. Daniels Jr. Abingdon Press
Copyright © 2014 Abingdon Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4267-9630-2
CHAPTER 1
Feel Your Heart Break
It isn't until you know for whom or what your heart breaks that God can reveal where in the community and with whom your ministry needs to be done. This brokenheartedness isn't just the stuff of love songs; it is what lifelong missions are made of.
These are the words of Nehemiah, Hacaliah's son.
In the month of Kislev, in the twentieth year, while I was in the fortress city of Susa, Hanani, one of my brothers, came with some other men from Judah. I asked them about the Jews who had escaped and survived the captivity, and about Jerusalem.
They told me, "Those in the province who survived the captivity are in great trouble and shame! The wall around Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been destroyed by fire!"
When I heard this news, I sat down and wept. I mourned for days, fasting and praying before the God of heaven.
Nehemiah 1:1-4
Who Does Your Heart Break For?
That's a good question. That's a deep question. That's a real soul-searching question. When somebody asks it of me, I find that my heart has really been broken for the last thirty-three years, since I was a sophomore in college. No, not over my high school prom date who was "fine as frog hair" as one of my colleagues in ministry says; a "fox" as we used to say in those days—a woman I had a "thing" for, but who then dropped me after my freshman year in college following some of my own foolishness. But ironically my heart broke over the church; in particular, churches so self-centered and disconnected from what was really happening in people's lives and communities that they were completely out of touch—blind and ignorant to the power of Jesus to resurrect broken lives, situations, and neighborhoods.
I grew up in a church like that. It was a church that wouldn't even grant me, then a college student, and another childhood friend of mine permission to start and conduct a Bible study that we and many other young people in the community sorely needed. We were trying to deal with the challenges of following Jesus while being daily impacted by peer pressure, drug abuse, sexual enticements, family strife, street violence, "-isms," and other conflicts poised to destroy us. We were seeking to find meaning in our lives. Yet our church, after our phenomenal youth leader Ruby Bentley died, suddenly stopped hearing our cries. I can still hear the administrative board chair's voice say to us, "No. You cannot do that here. Not in this church."
That no, broke my heart. Now, there were individual voices standing up and embracing us, and how we thank God for them. I don't know where we'd be without them. But when we needed the collective institution to open a door to us, the church said no. And that no caused me to reach the tipping point that drove me away from church for a few years.
Thank God I had a Thursday night Bible study to go to in the living room of a friend's house. Thank God my best friend's uncle would later empower me to start with him an additional Wednesday night study in the basement of a neighborhood library. These two gatherings became church for me. They became my community. I was one of eleven people who would emerge from those studies experiencing a call to ordained ministry on my life. And when I finally stopped running from and rebelling against God's summons of me to serve as a pastor in God's church—some six years after hearing that word, no—I made a vow to God and myself that I would do all I could, in the name of Jesus, to not allow any congregation to which I was appointed fall into that trap of saying no to positive community-building possibilities. By God's grace, I would lead a church to not be so focused on our internal machinations that we are unable to help people from all walks of life in the community find wholeness in Jesus Christ—physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, relationally, and economically. I find that I've been working on that heartbreak ever since.
That's the short version of my heartbreak. It has propelled the rest of my life's work. But much more important in the here and now, whom does your heart break for?
Asking people to feel their heart break is not exactly the greatest beginning to any story, chapter, sermon, speech, or book. Certainly not in this violence-promoting, mixed martial arts–crazed, pleasure-seeking, football-concussed, and microwave-convenienced society we live in.
Truly, it is countercultural to ask people to feel their heartbreak, especially when people are spending tons of money and energy to escape pain or to identify their passion, joy, exuberance, bliss, or meaning in life.
Start a book with heartbreak? You have to be kidding me. How about beginning with an intriguing story, a humorous tale, an adventurous journey instead. Wouldn't that be better? Feel my heartbreak?
Ironically, the Latin root of the word passion means "to suffer." So, we can't find our passion in life without somehow embracing the corresponding pain. Furthermore, discovering our deep passions often links us to some sort of suffering event or circumstance, situations that can be frightening or not fun to experience. And while visiting these realities certainly is not our cup of tea or our soul's greatest desire, the fact of the matter is that you and I cannot find the deep meaning, purpose, plan, or vision for our lives until we identify that passion, until we feel our heartbreak.
When we begin reading the story of Nehemiah, we cannot get past the first four verses of the first chapter without having to confront heartbreak. Nehemiah's name means "the Lord has comforted." Yet when we look at the state he's in at the beginning of his story, we do not see someone whom the Lord is comforting. Nor do we see someone whom the Lord is using to comfort others in the midst of their trials. Rather we see a high-level Hebrew leader noble in character whose dream must have burst in the face of Babylonian exile. Nehemiah is a slave in Babylonian captivity hired to make sure one person, Artaxerxes, the king of Persia, is comforted beyond his kingly comfort.
Nehemiah is the king's cupbearer in the royal palace. The royal bartender, if you don't mind me saying. He's got what my wife calls a GGJ—a good government job—something folks in Washington, DC, are famous for saying. He's working for the president in the White House. His boss could have been the prime minister in Great Britain or His Excellency in many other countries. He's the butler of that day. Yes, he's serving the king wine, but he was the king's trusted assistant. He was the most trusted person in the king's court because kings cannot be nonchalant about who is serving them wine. People can poison your wine, you know!
But although Nehemiah is in the uncomfortable place of bondage, he grows comfortable. For a slave, he's living large and in charge. He's in the king's palace. He's not doing what he's been called to do, born to do, or named to do. But he's comfortable. A lot of folks that I run into, day after day, are in bondage, but they are comfortable. They are not living out what God created them to live out or what their parents sent them to school to live out, but they are comfortable. How many of us are not doing what we want to do or what God called us to do but are comfortable?
But one day, all of this changed for Nehemiah. And one day, it very well may change for you, too—especially if you're living life comfortably. Comfort is not about how much money you make or how big your house is or what kind of car you drive. Comfort is about being satisfied with the status quo, even when you know God is calling you to change it. If you are comfortable with the way things are, even when you know they should be different; if you've been called, let alone named, to comfort those who are afflicted but are ignoring it; if you are trying to maintain a comfort level that is inconsistent with God's plan for your life, God is going to knock on your door and disturb you. God is going to remind you that he didn't call you to be comfortable. He called you to comfort the disturbed. And if you're going to do his will in restoring broken lives and communities, you will have to let go of your comfort—even in captivity—and let God use you to get engaged in the lives of hurting souls needing to be restored!
God used Nehemiah's own brother, Hanani, to get Nehemiah's attention. It must be really something when your own family member comes to you with a message from God that unexpectedly hits you right between the eyes and shatters you at the depth of your soul. If you are like me, family members can come to us with a whole lot of stuff—and most of the time it is not a word from the Lord. In the words of the comedian "Huggy Lowdown," sometimes they come with "shiggity." But Hanani comes to get Nehemiah's attention. And he doesn't just come by himself. He comes with Nehemiah's boys from the hood. He comes with representatives from the Hebrew community in Babylon to share with Nehemiah some disturbing news.
Before they can open their mouths, Nehemiah asks them how things are back home. They say to him, "Well, bruh, you need to understand that things back home are not good. The folks who escaped captivity and eluded bondage—our peeps—are in great trouble and distress. The walls in Jerusalem are torn down and the gates are burned up. There is a political, social, economic, spiritual, and community mess."
As Nehemiah listens to this disturbing news, we can almost hear the crumbling sound of his heart breaking and see the devastation painted all over his face. A broken heart is more than us just being upset. When our hearts break, it changes our whole countenance, our whole attitude, the very way we live, move, and have our being. When Nehemiah's heart breaks, he sits down and weeps. He weeps for the Jewish remnant, his brothers and sisters in Jerusalem, who are in great trouble and disgrace because Jerusalem, his home, is in shambles from the Babylonian invasion. His people are left vulnerable and defenseless against the evils of society.
To be left vulnerable and defenseless is no small order. The truth is that when your "walls" are destroyed and your "gates" are burned down—physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially, or relationally—you have nothing to defend yourself with. You become a target for being taken advantage of. You unjustly and unfairly and, at times, unfathomably suffer. There is nothing to protect an individual or community from the cold, callous, and cruel advances that often come from adversarial foes. You no longer have the ability to choose whom you let in or whom you keep out of your life. All of that is eradicated. And considering the fact that the people of Jerusalem were under siege, this was the people's daily reality.
And when Nehemiah hears this, his heart breaks. He sits down and weeps. And he doesn't just weep for a few minutes. We are told that he did so for days. Please understand that Nehemiah wasn't a crybaby, a weak man, or a chump. Nehemiah was a tough dude. He was a strong, courageous, risk-taking, bold kind of man. But when he hears the news, it shakes him so deeply that he sits down and weeps. For days!
What causes you to sit down and weep for days? Over whom does your soul mourn and grieve over for days on end?
This strife bothers Nehemiah such that it grips him, consumes him, won't let him go. You know you've got something going on within you that you've got to respond to when it grips you, wrestles with you, consumes you, disturbs you, troubles you, bothers you, stirs up agony in you, and refuses to let you go. It breaks his heart.
Whom does your heart break for? I can imagine Nehemiah finds himself burdened with a heartsick responsibility that he can't shake. I can envision him finding himself handcuffed with a heartfelt calling to now comfort hurting families back home that are his own blood. Surely, he can't sleep much. He probably goes to bed at night thinking about it. He wakes up in the middle of the night thinking about it. He feels it with him as he rises in the morning. He mourns and grieves about it as he serves the king throughout the day.
Whom does your heart break for? What vulnerable or defenseless situation or circumstance in life causes you to grieve for days on end? Have you identified it yet? Whom do you sit down and weep in your spirit over? What in your life has you so burdened that if you don't respond to it, it's going to drive you crazy? Have you heard news that cuts you to the heart so deeply that you are shaken by it, consumed by it such that you have to trade in your life of comfort so that you can go do something about it?
Whom does your heart break for? What devastating situation is bothering you such that it's leading you to take some different and significant steps in your life to heal the pain and bring about change? Kids are shooting at other kids in schools across the country and across socioeconomic class structures. Does that bother you? Men of one particular race are subjected to mass incarceration such that there are almost five times more black men in jail than white males (see Bureau of Justice Statistics, "Number of State Prisoners Declined by Almost 3,000 during 2009; Federal Prison Population Increased by 6,800," June 23, 2010, http://www.bjs.gov/content/pub/press/pim09stpy09acpr.cfm). Does that trouble you? Children by the thousands are being abused, mistreated, and sex trafficked all over the world. Does that burden you? In the wealthiest country in the world, homelessness is rampant. Does that grieve you? Citizenship status is a political football while many immigrants who have been here for years and have families rooted here wake up daily with fears of deportation, never mind basic survival. Does that consume you? As people in power move special interest groups like pawns—granting some groups basic civil rights while stripping other groups of civil rights long fought for and earned—even though everyone deserves civil rights, does that unsettle you? Does anything break your heart to the point that you have to do something about it?
The way to discover your passion is to answer this question—whom does your heart break for? If you know whom your heart breaks for, you will know who you need to be in ministry with and where that ministry needs to take place. Your life will find meaning, purpose, and passion. If you do not answer the question "whom does my heart break for?" or even bother to pause to feel your heartbreak, you will miss out on knowing your function in the body of Christ at this point in your journey. Furthermore, you may wander aimlessly trying to figure out what God wants you to do to build the Kingdom. Too many people are wandering aimlessly when God wants us to find God and discover all of the greatness that God has in store for us—greatness often discovered in restoring broken lives and communities.
The renowned civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. once wrote, "If a man has not found something worth dying for, he is not fit to live."
Rick Warren says, "Other people are going to find healing in your wounds. Your greatest life messages and your most effective ministry will come out of your deepest hurts" (The Purpose-Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For?, [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002], 275). You've got to discover what breaks your heart. When you do, lives and communities will change for the better. Hope will be restored to countless multitudes who are hopeless!
In Nehemiah, we see his most effective ministry birthed out of deep pain. His people are suffering and struggling, and he can't do anything about it. In the twinkling of an eye, Nehemiah discovers that slavery and exile are not the only things trapping him; what really has a hold on him is a summons by God to leave his comfortable confines of the king's court and engage with the troubled and shamed people in his community called Jerusalem, helping to improve their lives.
You and Your Congregation Can Do Something with Your Heartbreak
Nehemiah reminds me of two very ordinary guys in my congregation. One is a retired public service employee who grew up on meager means; the other is a former communications specialist who has lived in the United States for almost forty years. Both, however, in the midst of their comfort, found their hearts broken and their lives changed mightily after participating in a yearlong Bible study together at their church.
Through the study, and through authentic, transparent sharing with their fellow learners, the two heard a collective call to take the gospel to the street corner in their church's neighborhood. During the study, their hearts began breaking for the men they'd see almost every day on the corner; men who'd become vulnerable and defenseless due to demoralizing life events leading to alcohol and drug addiction, unemployment, homelessness, and despair.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Walking With Nehemiah by Joseph W. Daniels Jr.. Copyright © 2014 Abingdon Press. Excerpted by permission of Abingdon Press.
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