Post Exile Jerusalem: Not a happy place

When we read scripture, apart from relying on the Holy Spirit for insight, it is important that we use our imaginations and empathy to do full justice to the historical and situational context of the stories we read.  When you read about the plight of post exilic Judah, you are tempted to gloss over the details and miss the near hopelessness which befell the mission.

Not everyone likes war movies as much as I do.  I am particularly fanatical about Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now”: a lurid re-telling of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness within the gloomy and often hopeless theatre of the Vietnam War.  The extended version of the film contains a number of deleted sequences which never made it into the theatrical edition.  At one point of Willard’s search for Kurtz, he comes across a seemingly forgotten US Army outpost on the banks of the Nung River.  The place is a forlorn mess - under siege, not by the enemy but by the elements. The few soldiers who remain are leaderless and have long forgotten the war.  What meagre shelter they have is slowly rotting in the incessant rain and slow creep of mud.  The men are only there so that someone back at high command can claim that the line – such as it is in a guerrilla war – is being held.  But out in the festering jungle, it’s every man for himself.

I find this a useful picture when I try to imagine the hopelessness of circumstances in Jerusalem; first after the temple re-building faltered and later when it becomes apparent that unless the walls are rebuilt, the settlement is little more than a large, directionless encampment.

In Ezra and Haggai we read of severe discouragement and, in turn, dissipation.  We learn of drought and crop failure.  In all 4 books (Ezra, Nehemiah, Haggai and Zechariah) – we read of corruption, exploitation, usury, fear, class divisions and deviations from the Mosaic Law (intermarriage).  The report sent to Nehemiah alludes to the returnees being “in great trouble and disgrace” – later, as he inspects the damage himself, he finds that some of the City’s gates are in such disrepair that he cannot even pass through them.  And as if those things weren’t enough – the surrounding non Jews have a score to settle – not only this, they are fully armed and ready to choke the re-settlement at birth.

In “Apocalypse Now”, Willard senses that the longer he stays in that ram-shackle, malarial hovel, the more his mission is likely to be compromised.  After securing a meagre helping of fuel, he continues up river and puts it out of his mind.

Mercifully for Jerusalem and the returnees, help is at hand.  Often in painful ways, restoration will touch every aspect of their existence.  From the physical – (rebuilding of the walls) to the societal (re-settling the city) to the economic (ensuring no-one get’s left in need) to the spiritual (restoration of the Law and a system of worship)

Dead Man Walking

What kind of man was Nehemiah?

Well, we know he was “cupbearer to the King” – King Artaxerxes of Persia - a job spec which called for sublime responsibility and trustworthiness.  While it may have produced a confiding and even influential relationship with this most powerful of rulers, the job was, at its heart, not a particularly pleasant one.  Apart from needing to be of cheerful countenance (all the time), it was the cupbearer’s job to not only select wines for the King but to sample them too, thus being the last line of defence in the event of a poisoning conspiracy.

Rowan Atkinson takes a particularly funny look at the precariousness of working so closely alongside a powerful and fickle monarch.  It’s marginally naughty in places but worth a look.

But seriously now...let’s not overlook the significance of the fact that Nehemiah was a cupbearer to the King.  How would you take to such a job? – particularly to the gnawing uncertainty that the next taste test might well be your last?  Surely one in such a position would – from the very outset of the appointment – have had to resign himself to death’s constant companionship?

Perhaps it’s a bit of a stretch but I think it speaks a lot about Nehemiah’s character.  His stoicism reminds me of the terrifying Lt. Speirs, a prominent character in the TV series “Band of Brothers”.  On the eve of a major clash between the 101st and the 17thPanzergrenadier Division at a place later known as “Bloody Gulch”, the much feared Lieutenant Speirs puts things into perspective for a terrified rifleman called Blithe:

“You just don’t see how simple it is.  You think there’s still hope – but Blithe, the only hope you have is to accept the fact that you’re already dead. The sooner you accept that the sooner you’ll be able to function as a soldier’s supposed to.  Without mercy, without compassion, without remorse...all war depends upon it...”

And though Nehemiah was ultimately merciful, compassionate and single-mindedly focused on serving God, I imagine his service paradigm to be startling similar to that of Lt. Speirs.  During his time as governor of Judaea, he endured constant opposition yet in spite of it all remained focussed on the job at hand and continued to carry out his duties with a sense of blazing urgency.  Upon hearing of a conspiracy to have him killed, he remarks:

“Should a man like me run away? Or should one like me go into the temple to save his life?  I will not go!”

In many ways he is a prophetic embodiment of words the Apostle Paul would later write in his second letter to the Corinthians:

“We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.  For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body”

“Most people ask ‘what does it cost’.  Wise people ask ‘what is it worth?”

Comparison Kills

I am becoming more and more aware that comparison is by far the biggest threat to personal and communal growth. 

The first wave of pilgrims to return to Jerusalem with Zerubbabel would soon be aware of this too.  Responding to a number of prophecies that foretold Judah’s return from exile, this sizeable band of Jews quickly set about rebuilding an altar and laying a foundation for the new temple. 

The project then hits its first, and ultimately fatal, obstacle. 

As they come to give thanks and consecrate the work, a number of older Jews compare their efforts to the glorious temple built by Solomon.  They are so overwhelmed by the comparison that they weep aloud - no whimpering sob mind you but a gut wrenching, soul raking wail that is so strident no-one can distinguish between the sound of praise and the sound of disconsolation.  “And the sound was heard far away” – says the book of Ezra.

Coupled with this, the local Samaritans escalate their dissent and opposition to the Jews’ presence.  A short time later, leadership changes back in the Babylonian lead to the discontinuation of the subsidy that Cyrus had provided.

The project falters and is discontinued.  As Bible scholar David Pawson puts it in his book “Unlocking the Bible”:

“So fantasy gave way to reality, the size of the task discouraged the people and their hearts sank.  They stopped building and for 14 years didn’t put another stone on the temple, leaving just the foundations and low walls.  On top of scratching a living, building temples was a luxury they couldn’t afford.  Their concern now was mere survival”.

Into this context speak the prophets Haggai and Zechariah –

“Give careful thought to your ways” says Haggai.  “Is it a time for you to be living in panelled houses while this house remains a ruin?”  Reflecting on the daily reality of drought, crop failure and famine, he emphasises that the community’s meagre resources are invested in the right place. 

Zechariah is at pains to remind the people that all great journeys begin with a single step:

“Do not despise the day of small things – for the Lord rejoices to see the work BEGIN!”

In what ways do we allow comparison to strangle our own development?  Do any of the following comments (whether consciously or unconsciously made) sound familiar?

•  “We need to be more like church X down the road or we won’t be effective”
• “Wow, this colleague of mine is so good at his job...if I can’t be more like him I won’t be a success"
• “I’m not doing as much as other people in my church – this surely means I’m missing God on something”

Let me close with an excerpt from a great book by founder of CD Baby Derek Sivers. His thoughts share some practical advice on how to surmount the obstacle of comparison.  His book is entitled “Anything you want to be”

“Watch out when anyone (including you) says he wants to do something big, but can’t until he raises the money.  It usually means the person is more in love with the idea of being big than with actually doing something useful.  For an idea to get big, it has to be useful.  And being useful doesn’t need funding. 

If you want to be useful, you can always start now, with only 1 percent of what you have in your grand vision.  It’ll be a humble prototype of your grand vision, but you’ll be in the game.  You’ll be ahead of the rest, because you actually started, while others are waiting for the finish line to magically appear at the starting line.

For example, let’s say you have a vision of making an international chain of enlightened modern schools.  You picture it as a huge, world changing organisation, with hundreds of employees, dozens of offices and expensive technology.  But instead of waiting for that, you start by teaching somebody something this week.  Find someone who will pay to learn something, meet him anywhere, and begin.  It will be nothing but you, a student and a notebook, but you will be in business and you can grow it from there.

Starting small puts 100% of your energy on actually solving real problems for real people.  It gives you a stronger foundation to grow from.  It eliminates the friction of big infrastructure and gets right to the point”

Returning is Tough

Though born in Zambia, a citizen of South Africa – (with options on a few other passports too) – I consider myself a displaced Zimbabwean.  Not that I am technically displaced of course, I just never chose to return there after I’d finished my studies at Rhodes. And recent years seem to have vindicated that decision.

Lately though, I’ve been almost overwhelmed by nostalgic memories of both my childhood and early adolescence in Zimbabwe, even though the years were marked by war and unhappy school memories. Yet in spite of these ties, (and the fact that my immediate family still live there) I wonder how I would react if the “still small voice” bid me return?  You see, Zimbabwe is, for the most part, a nation in disarray with very little to commend itself.

Judah’s experience of deportation between 606 BC and 587 BC – and later exile in Babylon must have been similarly bittersweet.  In the first instance, the deportation involved the removal of the Royal Court – the rulers and sages of the establishment.  In the second, the removal of craftsmen and merchants; the economic backbone of the establishment.  In the third instance, it saw the looting and destruction of the temple – the physical reminder of God in their midst.

Yet during the ensuing 70 years the Jews made a home of Babylon.  Treated relatively well, many established businesses and participated in the economy.  I would be interested to know how many were excited by the news that Cyrus had granted them permission – and even provided the resources – to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the temple.  After all, we are told that things back “home” were so bad that even basic necessities like water were being hawked by opportunistic vendors on the city’s street corners.

No, this return was hardly the unanimous “Let’s Go Get ‘em guys!!” sort of thing you might have expected.  In 537 BC, about 50 000 pilgrims returned with Zerubbabel to rebuild the temple.  90 years later – a lifetime for most of us – saw the return of a measly 1800 under the priest Ezra.  14 years after that, a small handful of craftsmen returned with Nehemiah to rebuild the walls of the Holy City.

Yet before we look down on those Jews of old; what of me today?  Am I settling in the comfortable confines of my modern day surroundings?  Am I being cowed by the reports from the land that God might call me to occupy - be it literal or metaphorical?

When I consider those options on other passports – of citizenship in countries that are far safer and more predictable than the one I live in, maybe I am just too safe for the time being.

The Call to Return - Ezra and Nehemia

In an age when God’s mandate for the Church is so unmistakeable and urgent – at a time when my own fellowship is assembling on the banks of a metaphorical Jordan - as I, at times, falter in my commitment to God’s call on my life – I am intrigued, even gripped with the concept of risking it all – taking the plunge – of returning, rebuilding, re-instating – renewing.  Of partnering with God in “making all things new”.

One of the most insightful play books we have on this comes from the Biblical accounts of Ezra and Nehemiah – initially a single book in the Septuagint.  But if you’re looking for a “home-run”, "winner-takes-all" report card on these vital competencies (at least by worldly standards) then you might be disappointed.

At first glance, Israel’s history post the Babylon exile is dissatisfying.

In line with prophecy, the remnant of Judah and Benjamin return to the Promised Land - a shadow of a bygone era.  Gone are the glories of Solomon’s monarchy.  Devastated is the land.  Pagan nations now occupy this once sacred cross-road.  The job at hand - to rebuild the temple - is plagued by delays, half-hearted commitment and comparisons with the glorious edifice which once stood there.

I can’t help thinking that “things would never be the same again”

Yet there is much to learn from the lives of Ezra and Nehemiah – men called, against all odds, to renew, reform and rebuild not only the nation but its covenant relationship with the God who fathered it.  Their call was to re-instate not just a physical space but an emotional and spiritual one too.

Come with us as we examine this troubled, yet ultimately uplifting passage of Israel’s history.