Harvest of Gold (26 page)

The first men who volunteered to work on the walls of Jerusalem were priests. Nehemiah had expected farmers or laborers—men accustomed to manual exertion—to step forward before others. The priests, however, jumped first at the chance to restore Jerusalem.

It came to Nehemiah that they knew better than most the spiritual significance behind the shattered walls of the city. They were a reminder of their people’s sin, which had caused God to remove His hand of protection from them. If the Lord was opening the doors for the restoration of Jerusalem as Nehemiah promised, then He must have forgiven His covenant people. To rebuild the walls meant that they were cooperating not with the governor, but with God Himself. And they set the example for the rest of the people.

Before the high priest Eliashib picked up a single stone, he and his priests dedicated the Sheep Gate to the Lord. They blessed the people who would one day bring their sheep through these gates again, on their way to be sacrificed at the Temple.

Afterward Nehemiah watched Eliashib tuck his long robe into his belt and begin to sweat under the hot sun of northern Jerusalem, his dignified priests looking like a bunch of laborers as they toiled alongside him. This portion of the wall was large and of particular importance, for this part of the city stood undefended by steep hills.

Under their hands, the blistering work of laying stone upon stone became an act of worship. They were honoring God. They sought to show Him their obedience. They started at the Sheep Gate and toiled their way westward for uninterrupted hours as if God Himself empowered every small accomplishment.

Nehemiah sent a carpenter to oversee their efforts when they began to set the framework of the door. Even the religious enthusiasm of a priest could not compensate for a lack of construction experience.

“We don’t want the doors to fall upon our heads the first time we open them,” Nehemiah told his brother. “I don’t care how much they pray as they are building. You need a bit of human expertise as well.”

Sanballat the Horonite delivered a fierce kick to the stool next to his oak table. The stool crashed against a wall, shattering one of its delicately carved legs. He cursed under his breath. Carved stools were not cheap.

He picked up the letter from Tobiah and handed it to his son. “Selemyah, what do you make of this? Tobiah says that Judah has a new governor. And what do you think he is doing? Rebuilding the walls of that pockmarked Jerusalem, that’s what!”

Selemyah grasped the delicate papyrus in careful fingers. “Let that backwater city do what they will. You are the leader of troops from Samaria. What harm can a little stretch of wall do to you?”

“Don’t be shortsighted! Why are these Israelites roaring to rebuild their dear Jerusalem, do you think? They chase after power and profit. And if they get their way, will not the governor of Judah curry more favor and authority than the rest of us in the region? I plan to become governor of Samaria one day. As such, I don’t intend to tolerate a new power rising up next door, breathing down my neck.”

Selemyah perched on the edge of the oak table. “What do you aim to do?”

“First, we must establish if this building project has the Persian stamp of approval. Not many years ago, the king stopped the very same project. I suspect these people are probably in outright rebellion. In which case, we threaten them with exposure and that should bring their precious wall to an end.

“Let us send for Tobiah. Come to think of it, I will call in the aid of Geshem the Qedarite as well. He is another powerful man in our region and is bound to be equally displeased with the developments in Judah.”

Nehemiah read the letter that bore the seals of Sanballat, Tobiah, and Geshem. It was short. But in the few lines, Nehemiah could detect scathing contempt. He read it aloud for the grim-faced Jewish leaders who surrounded him, his voice devoid of expression.

People of Judah
,

What do you think you are doing? Hasn’t the king already forbidden the rebuilding of Jerusalem once? Are you now rebelling against the king?

Nehemiah gazed at the young man who had delivered the missive. “Did your master, Sanballat, have an additional message for us?”

“He was laughing too hard to say much.”

“Tell your master that not only do we have the king’s permission, but we also have the help of the God of heaven. He is the One who will make us prosper. We, His servants, will rise up and rebuild this city.

“But you, Sanballat, Tobiah, and Geshem, you will have no share in or claim to our Jerusalem.” He handed the letter back to the messenger. “Will you remember my words or shall I write them down?”

“No. I … I … er … will remember.”

“Excellent. Don’t let us keep you.”

Before the young man was out of earshot, Nehemiah addressed his leaders. “Nothing but the buzzing of a fly. Let them mock away. We’ll see who is laughing when we accomplish the task God has placed before us. Let’s return to work. Everyone to his post.”

Nehemiah knew that every day of building was crucial. There was no time to waste. The faster they could accomplish their task, the less chance they would have of being derailed by unforeseeable forces. For the sake of efficiency, he had divided the building project into forty-two sectors, with various leaders overseeing the work in each section.

It was a daunting project. In places, the original wall had been as wide as the length of five tall men lying down end-to-end. The enormous width had been necessary in order to support the wall’s considerable height. Nehemiah had directed the laborers to build directly on top of the old foundations where possible, changing the location of the wall only when absolutely necessary. Some of the ancient foundations had been laid at the time of King David. Others, like the Broad Wall, were from the time of King Hezekiah, a reminder of a time in Judah’s history when its enemies had breathed down its neck, requiring extraordinary defenses. But in the end, those defenses had failed. What use was a wall without the hand of God behind it to hold it up? There were times when the builders wept as they worked, remembering what they had lost.

Nehemiah recognized that the structure they were building would lack the splendor of the City of David. But he did not concern himself with grandeur now. What Jerusalem needed was practical protection. In order to grow and prosper into a true city, they needed to surround it with an effective shield.

He fell into the habit of visiting several sites each day. On the fifteenth day of building he began with Eliashib’s section of the wall. He noted that the high priest was not as fast on his feet as he had been at the beginning of his labors.

The governor recalled that Sanballat’s daughter was married to one of Eliashib’s grandsons. It was one thing to toil for the glory of God, but quite another to get tangled up with disgruntled family members. In addition, if what he heard was true, Tobiah was a personal friend of the high priest. Nehemiah pursed his lower lip for a moment. He had not counted on having enemies who were related to his friends.

Immediately to the west of Eliashib and his priests, a group from Jericho labored on the wall. They were simple men. Nehemiah doubted if they could read and write. And yet they stood next to the high priest of the land, shoulder to shoulder, strengthening their city. There was something sacred about the way the wall was bringing people of such diverse backgrounds together. They were united by their commitment to serve God with one heart. Differences were set aside for the sake of their goal.

Beyond them, Zaccur the son of Imri worked with his family and servants. The sound of jovial chatter was interspersed with occasional grunts and strained groaning. Masonry was heavy. The builders had to pick through the stones left over from the old walls and dust and clean them before setting them in place. Some pieces were small enough for one man to lift. Many were so heavy that it required several men to shove one boulder onto a lever and fulcrum so that they could lift the stone to the appropriate height.

Nehemiah bent down to run a hand across the first round of stones that had been set over the foundation. “Your work progresses well.”

Zaccur wiped a hand across his sweat-soaked brow, leaving a streak. “Thank you, my lord.”

Nehemiah clasped him on the shoulder. “You have done a fine job.” Their portion was small compared to the priests’, but they worked with gratifying zeal.

The governor walked westward to the Fish Gate, where the residents of the city once sold fish from the Sea of Galilee.
One day again, God willing, crowds of fishermen will walk through these gates!
The sons of Hassenaah—four young men with shoulders as broad as a Persian beam—worked hard on the Gate.

“How goes it?” Nehemiah called out.

“Come see for yourself, my lord,” said a brother with curly hair and brown eyes that sparkled. Nehemiah could not remember his name, and if he was honest, could not even tell the brothers apart. They all had curly hair and sparkling brown eyes, as well as thick muscles.

They were working on the doors. Lebanon’s rich timber had already been cut into planks and laid on a large table hefted from somewhere to accommodate their task. Nehemiah stroked the surface of one plank. As smooth as an ancient stone, the young men had sanded it until the grain of the wood stood out with the beauty of an artist’s pattern.

“This shall be a gate worthy of the city to which it belongs.”

Four broad smiles enveloped him with appreciation.

Meremoth was busy repairing the section of the wall that stood next to the Fish Gate. He came from an important family; both his father and grandfather were known as men of rank in Judah. Yet he exchanged good-natured jests with the four simple brothers as if they had been boyhood friends. As if a world of wealth, education, and lineage did not stand between them.

Meremoth’s hands were covered in mud, which he was using as mortar between the stones. His face, his hair, his work clothes, even his brows were speckled with it. He looked a mess. But the echo of his loud laughter rang through the valley beyond. He sounded like a man who had discovered what he loved best in the world.

Judah’s governor shook his head and continued his systematic inspection westward, then southward, encouraging and strengthening the builders as he walked by each section. He exchanged pleasantries with Meshullam followed by Zadok. The people of Tekoa were next.

The men of Tekoa were dressed in homespun, no shoes on their feet, their clothing—what they had of it—threadbare. Their women had come along to help, cleaning the pale limestone, helping to heft and position some of the smaller pieces. It was backbreaking work, with an occasional surprise when they moved the rocks. Scorpions. Sometimes, to escape the incessant summer heat, little creatures hid under the fallen stones. Nehemiah had seen scorpions scuttle out from under the weight of a shifting boulder, running with blind fear toward the people who had disturbed their rest. How no one had been stung so far had been due more to God’s mercy than human ingenuity.

The small band of peasants from Tekoa occupied a special place in Nehemiah’s heart. It had taken monumental courage for them to come and help in the building effort. Tekoa was a city in the highlands to the south of Jerusalem. The prophet Amos had once been a shepherd of Tekoa, called by God to preach to Israel.