The living archive is loading.
Restoring the House – Together
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Restoring the House – Together
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
We're continuing our series in Nehemiah. So far, the story has been about God raising up Nehemiah to travel a thousand miles from a life of comfort in Persia to rebuild the walls and gates of his homeland in Jerusalem — not just to restore a structure, but to rebuild desperate people, restoring their worship, their identity, and their community.
Last week we saw that when you step up into God's purposes, you can expect opposition — criticism, intimidation, distraction, even threats of violence, all coming from outside. This week we look at something even more dangerous: not all opposition is external. Sometimes the greatest threat is what's happening, or not happening, on the inside.
Everyone who signed up to rebuild the wall was meant to build together and do their part. But as the story unfolds, some were sacrificially involved while others were not — talking the talk but not walking the walk, even freeloading off those who were committed.
"Some of the men and their wives raised a cry of protest against their fellow Jews. They were saying, 'We have such large families, we need more food to survive.' Others said, 'We have mortgaged our fields, vineyards, and homes to get food during the famine.'"
These were genuinely hard times. The Persian empire was demanding heavy taxes, and people were being forced to mortgage everything, even sending their children into forms of debt-slavery as collateral just to survive.
Nothing damages God's work faster than God's people turning against each other. The church can survive a lot of pressure from outside, but division on the inside erodes trust, fractures relationships, and slows down everything God wants to do. External opposition tests the work; internal division destroys it. That's why Scripture calls us to make every effort to guard the unity in the bond of peace.
The people had a legitimate complaint: they were sacrificing while others who could give were giving nothing. You can't restore God's house with divided hearts. Only one thing could restore the unity here — the restoration of generosity.
"When I heard their outcry and their charges, I was very angry. After thinking it over, I spoke out against these nobles and officials." (v.6)
Nehemiah gets angry — not because he's a control freak, but because his heart is aligned with God's heart for the people and the mission. Notice his pattern: he doesn't just react. He pauses, he thinks, he prays — and then he acts. He doesn't moan about the problem in general; he confronts it directly, face-to-face with the people involved.
What gets called peacekeeping often just avoids or covers up problems, but peacemaking addresses the problem in order to heal it. Nehemiah doesn't just say, "Stop doing wrong." He says, "Make it right. Give it back. Restore it." Because God doesn't just want changed finances — he wants changed hearts.
Even though Nehemiah had the authority and the right to take advantage of the people for his own benefit, he chose not to. Instead, he led the way in generosity.
"I regularly fed 150 Jewish officials at my table, besides all the other visitors from other lands. The provisions I paid for each day included one ox, six choice sheep or goats, and a large number of poultry." (v.17)
He refused to burden others and carried the cost himself. That's godly leadership. Real leaders are not takers, they're givers. As the title of Simon Sinek's book puts it, leaders eat last. The only thing we're meant to take first is responsibility. Nehemiah didn't just tell people to be generous — he showed them from his own life. Are our lives showing people what generosity looks like?
Whenever we talk about generosity, something can rise up in us — tension, resistance, defensiveness. That's revealing. Jesus talked about money more than almost anything else, not because money is bad, but because he knew how close it sits to our hearts.
"No one can serve two masters. You cannot serve both God and money."
He didn't say should not — he said cannot. Sooner or later, something will master you; it will be whatever has the first or final say. Money itself is morally neutral — Paul said the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. The issue isn't what I have, it's what's got me.
Jesus also said, "If you're faithful in little, you'll be faithful in much." What you do with what God has given you — whether little or a lot — is shaping who you're becoming. Stewardship is a discipleship issue. This isn't just about finances; it's about formation and worship.
At Ivy, giving is between you and God, not you and the church. It's not a membership fee, and while meeting needs and fulfilling vision matter, ultimately it's about trust, about your heart and your hands, about who it all belongs to.
Over 30 years of ministry, there have been moments of finding out what people give, and it's often surprising — people assumed to have little have been incredibly generous, while others with outward wealth gave very little to the mission despite being part of the church a long time.
On one occasion, someone in church leadership — with responsibility for helping decide how to spend what was given — turned out not to be giving hardly at all, despite being able to. That led to a hard, honest, and awkward conversation, similar to what Nehemiah had to do. It wasn't comfortable, but it came from wanting the best for that person, because God knows every pound and every penny entrusted to us, and what we release back.
This isn't about comparison, pressure, or guilt — but Nehemiah 5 raises real, practical questions that shouldn't be skipped over.
Consider two contrasting figures:
The rich young ruler — sincere, seeking truth, considered good. But when Jesus touched on money, he walked away sad. He didn't just have money — money had him. He didn't reject generosity; he rejected Jesus' rule over his life, rejected surrender.
Zacchaeus — not good, but very bad, with a similar bank balance. Jesus came close with no command, no law, no pressure — just love and grace. And Zacchaeus stood up and declared he would give half of everything to the poor and repay those he'd cheated four times over.
Grace did what pressure never could. Same wealth, same Jesus, different outcome.
Generosity is not about what you have. It's about what and who has you.
Nehemiah 5 isn't ultimately about behaviour correction — it's about heart restoration for the sake of God's house. We become generous not by trying harder, but by supernaturally receiving more grace, being more awed and amazed at how much God has given us freely in salvation.
So ask yourself: what's going on in you right now? What would feel like too much to give if God asked you for it? This is about more than money — it's about whether we are consumers or contributors, spectators or builders.
Nehemiah's wall was rebuilt because ordinary people stepped up, sacrificed, and played their part. Every church that makes a difference is built the same way — not by a few people doing everything, but by everybody bringing something: time, encouragement, gifts, prayer, resources, finances.
Maybe you've been sitting on the sidelines — now is the time to serve, to start building instead of just watching others build. And maybe it's financial — not because God needs your money, but because each of us needs to reorient our lives around putting him first in every area, loosening the grip this world has on us as we give ourselves into his hands.
Generosity does something through us, but it also does something in us — it makes us more like Jesus.
The rich young ruler held on tight. Zacchaeus opened his hands. Same Jesus, different hearts.
So the question now is not how much do you have to give — the question is, how much has the grace you've been given changed your heart?
Father, thank you that you've given us everything. You gave first. You held nothing back. Your grace came to us full and free and undeserved before we ever responded. Right now, search our hearts and show us what we're holding on to. Give us courage, give us trust to respond — make us joyful, generous, united people who reflect your love. Not through pressure, but through grace. In Jesus' wonderful name, Amen.
We're continuing our series in Nehemiah. So far, the story has been about God raising up Nehemiah to travel a thousand miles from a life of comfort in Persia to rebuild the walls and gates of his homeland in Jerusalem — not just to restore a structure, but to rebuild desperate people, restoring their worship, their identity, and their community.
Last week we saw that when you step up into God's purposes, you can expect opposition — criticism, intimidation, distraction, even threats of violence, all coming from outside. This week we look at something even more dangerous: not all opposition is external. Sometimes the greatest threat is what's happening, or not happening, on the inside.
Everyone who signed up to rebuild the wall was meant to build together and do their part. But as the story unfolds, some were sacrificially involved while others were not — talking the talk but not walking the walk, even freeloading off those who were committed.
"Some of the men and their wives raised a cry of protest against their fellow Jews. They were saying, 'We have such large families, we need more food to survive.' Others said, 'We have mortgaged our fields, vineyards, and homes to get food during the famine.'"
These were genuinely hard times. The Persian empire was demanding heavy taxes, and people were being forced to mortgage everything, even sending their children into forms of debt-slavery as collateral just to survive.
Nothing damages God's work faster than God's people turning against each other. The church can survive a lot of pressure from outside, but division on the inside erodes trust, fractures relationships, and slows down everything God wants to do. External opposition tests the work; internal division destroys it. That's why Scripture calls us to make every effort to guard the unity in the bond of peace.
The people had a legitimate complaint: they were sacrificing while others who could give were giving nothing. You can't restore God's house with divided hearts. Only one thing could restore the unity here — the restoration of generosity.
"When I heard their outcry and their charges, I was very angry. After thinking it over, I spoke out against these nobles and officials." (v.6)
Nehemiah gets angry — not because he's a control freak, but because his heart is aligned with God's heart for the people and the mission. Notice his pattern: he doesn't just react. He pauses, he thinks, he prays — and then he acts. He doesn't moan about the problem in general; he confronts it directly, face-to-face with the people involved.
What gets called peacekeeping often just avoids or covers up problems, but peacemaking addresses the problem in order to heal it. Nehemiah doesn't just say, "Stop doing wrong." He says, "Make it right. Give it back. Restore it." Because God doesn't just want changed finances — he wants changed hearts.
Even though Nehemiah had the authority and the right to take advantage of the people for his own benefit, he chose not to. Instead, he led the way in generosity.
"I regularly fed 150 Jewish officials at my table, besides all the other visitors from other lands. The provisions I paid for each day included one ox, six choice sheep or goats, and a large number of poultry." (v.17)
He refused to burden others and carried the cost himself. That's godly leadership. Real leaders are not takers, they're givers. As the title of Simon Sinek's book puts it, leaders eat last. The only thing we're meant to take first is responsibility. Nehemiah didn't just tell people to be generous — he showed them from his own life. Are our lives showing people what generosity looks like?
Whenever we talk about generosity, something can rise up in us — tension, resistance, defensiveness. That's revealing. Jesus talked about money more than almost anything else, not because money is bad, but because he knew how close it sits to our hearts.
"No one can serve two masters. You cannot serve both God and money."
He didn't say should not — he said cannot. Sooner or later, something will master you; it will be whatever has the first or final say. Money itself is morally neutral — Paul said the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. The issue isn't what I have, it's what's got me.
Jesus also said, "If you're faithful in little, you'll be faithful in much." What you do with what God has given you — whether little or a lot — is shaping who you're becoming. Stewardship is a discipleship issue. This isn't just about finances; it's about formation and worship.
At Ivy, giving is between you and God, not you and the church. It's not a membership fee, and while meeting needs and fulfilling vision matter, ultimately it's about trust, about your heart and your hands, about who it all belongs to.
Over 30 years of ministry, there have been moments of finding out what people give, and it's often surprising — people assumed to have little have been incredibly generous, while others with outward wealth gave very little to the mission despite being part of the church a long time.
On one occasion, someone in church leadership — with responsibility for helping decide how to spend what was given — turned out not to be giving hardly at all, despite being able to. That led to a hard, honest, and awkward conversation, similar to what Nehemiah had to do. It wasn't comfortable, but it came from wanting the best for that person, because God knows every pound and every penny entrusted to us, and what we release back.
This isn't about comparison, pressure, or guilt — but Nehemiah 5 raises real, practical questions that shouldn't be skipped over.
Consider two contrasting figures:
The rich young ruler — sincere, seeking truth, considered good. But when Jesus touched on money, he walked away sad. He didn't just have money — money had him. He didn't reject generosity; he rejected Jesus' rule over his life, rejected surrender.
Zacchaeus — not good, but very bad, with a similar bank balance. Jesus came close with no command, no law, no pressure — just love and grace. And Zacchaeus stood up and declared he would give half of everything to the poor and repay those he'd cheated four times over.
Grace did what pressure never could. Same wealth, same Jesus, different outcome.
Generosity is not about what you have. It's about what and who has you.
Nehemiah 5 isn't ultimately about behaviour correction — it's about heart restoration for the sake of God's house. We become generous not by trying harder, but by supernaturally receiving more grace, being more awed and amazed at how much God has given us freely in salvation.
So ask yourself: what's going on in you right now? What would feel like too much to give if God asked you for it? This is about more than money — it's about whether we are consumers or contributors, spectators or builders.
Nehemiah's wall was rebuilt because ordinary people stepped up, sacrificed, and played their part. Every church that makes a difference is built the same way — not by a few people doing everything, but by everybody bringing something: time, encouragement, gifts, prayer, resources, finances.
Maybe you've been sitting on the sidelines — now is the time to serve, to start building instead of just watching others build. And maybe it's financial — not because God needs your money, but because each of us needs to reorient our lives around putting him first in every area, loosening the grip this world has on us as we give ourselves into his hands.
Generosity does something through us, but it also does something in us — it makes us more like Jesus.
The rich young ruler held on tight. Zacchaeus opened his hands. Same Jesus, different hearts.
So the question now is not how much do you have to give — the question is, how much has the grace you've been given changed your heart?
Father, thank you that you've given us everything. You gave first. You held nothing back. Your grace came to us full and free and undeserved before we ever responded. Right now, search our hearts and show us what we're holding on to. Give us courage, give us trust to respond — make us joyful, generous, united people who reflect your love. Not through pressure, but through grace. In Jesus' wonderful name, Amen.
