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Trouble at Home: God's People and Internal Conflict
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Trouble at Home: God's People and Internal Conflict
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
We've been following Nehemiah's journey over the past few weeks. First, we saw the spiritual attack in Nehemiah 4:1–9, where external enemies threatened the rebuilding of Jerusalem's wall. Then Nehemiah encouraged people and built them up during a time of fear. Now we face a different kind of problem—not external conflict, but an in-house problem.
This makes sense when you think about it: if you're building a wall and standing guard, you have limited time to work your farmland and provide food for your family. The people are working extremely hard, stretched to their limits.
Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews.
Notice that both men and women are crying out. This emphasis shows how serious the situation had become. The problem centers on exploitation within God's own family.
People were forced to:
Their summary in verse 5 is heartbreaking: "We are powerless because our fields and our vineyards belong to others." Imagine being so poor that you must send your children to work for someone unkind simply because you cannot afford to keep them.
While we see similar exploitation in modern society—through predatory loans and abuse by drug gangs—this crisis is happening within the people of God. That makes it a spiritual problem, not merely an economic one.
Why is this happening? The nobles and officials were charging their own people interest on loans. Deuteronomy 23:19 was clear: "Do not charge a fellow Israelite interest, whether on money or food or anything else that may earn interest."
But the deepest issue goes further. When Nehemiah confronts the officials, he asks:
Shouldn't you walk in the fear of our God to avoid the reproach of our gentile enemies?
When we stop walking in the fear of the Lord, we succumb to temptation and unkindness toward one another. This is the root of the problem. They had stopped walking with God.
This is a challenge for all of us. We want to finish our lives well, following Jesus. But it's not a guarantee. When we don't fear the Lord and begin to give in to temptation and walk away, we enter a place of danger.
Nehemiah's response shows real courage:
He heard their cry. There's something vital about truly hearing the pain within our community—not just the general pain of life, but the pain we cause each other.
He was angry, but thoughtfully so. He pondered the situation in his mind before acting.
He spoke up. "What you are doing is not right," he said to the officials. We must be able to say this when we see injustice.
He gave a strong command:
Give back to them immediately their fields, vineyards, olive groves, and houses, and also the interest you were charging them—1% of the money, grain, new wine, and olive oil.
In this way, may God shake out of their house and possessions anyone who does not keep this promise.
When the officials heard Nehemiah's challenge, they kept quiet because they could find nothing to say. Their silence led to conviction and repentance.
Their response in verse 12 is beautiful: "We will give it back. We will not demand anything more from them. We will do as you say."
There is always the possibility of redemption. This is what we're seeing here. The officials had done wrong, but they were willing to repent and make it right.
In the Church of England, every parish must have safeguarding officers and comprehensive policies. Here at HTL, our safeguarding officers are Alex Scott and Bridget Patel. As your incumbent, I'm also someone you can speak with.
We have policies covering:
You can find these on our website. Why does this matter? Without proper procedures, we risk deciding individually what's good and bad. Healthy accountability protects everyone and removes subjectivity.
If you work in a secular environment, your workplace has these structures. The church needs them too. We are a church full of sinful people as well as saints—and often they're the same person. I am a sinful saint. You are too. But there's always room for redemption, which is why we need good procedures in place.
A diocesan audit is currently underway. We would love every member of HTL to complete the safeguarding survey. The auditors don't just want my perspective—they want your experience. This is part of our responsibility to be accountable, just as Nehemiah was.
Most of us, however, face a different kind of conflict—not legal issues, but the normal conflicts of everyday life. Matthew 18:15–19 provides the framework:
If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. But if they will not listen, take one or two others along so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church.
Let me give you an example. I've worked with Jit for about seven or eight years, and we've had a good relationship. But one day, when the young adults were asking us questions, something unexpected happened. Unknowingly and innocently, I pressed a button of pain in him, and he unknowingly pressed a button of pain in me. In front of the young adults, we had what we call in the UK a "ding-dong"—a bit of a verbal fight.
Being mature people, we stopped ourselves quickly. But afterward, in the office, we were both a bit "off" with each other. We sort of said we were all right, but we weren't—not really.
Later, I reflected and realized I was wrong. I emailed Jit and apologized. He came back and explained what was going on for him. Because we had the conversation, we understood each other. We discovered that unknowingly and unintentionally, we'd pressed each other's buttons of pain. We even shared something about those painful buttons that we'd never shared before.
If we hadn't had that conversation and just gone away angry, resentment would have festered. Weeks or months later, the original issue would be buried under layers of hurt. What was easily solved would have become complicated.
Scripture is so practical and helpful. If we can't resolve it ourselves, we go to the church wardens and ask for help having a conversation. Do you see?
We need to understand our differences. I'm from a working-class background, and I'm not ashamed of it. But our church has people from many backgrounds, cultures, and neurological differences. When I visit a working-class friend's home, I might walk in and make myself tea. When I visit friends from a more formal background, I knock on the door and wait for an invitation. Neither approach is wrong—they're just different.
We have international brothers and sisters among us who are translating constantly, even while under pressure. We have people with neurological differences like autism. Our job first is to be kind and to understand how life is different for others.
Nehemiah shows us what it means to be a servant leader. He could have claimed all the rights and privileges due to the governor. Instead:
Neither I nor my brothers ate the food allotted to the governor. The earlier governors placed a heavy burden on the people and took 40 shekels of silver from them, in addition to food and wine. But out of reverence for God, I did not act like that.
Instead, he fed 150 Jews and officials at his table daily, including those from surrounding nations. He gave generously rather than demanding what was rightfully his.
Jesus taught this in Mark 10:42–45:
You know that those regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant. Whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.
We are called to be a servant people.
Oskar Schindler during World War II used his wealth and influence to save more than a thousand Jews from Nazi persecution. Instead of using his power for personal gain, he risked his position to protect vulnerable people.
In our own time, we see modern Nehemiahs:
So many of you are doing these things. That's servant-heartedness. Our money is not our own—it's the Lord's. Our lives are not our own—they're his. What a joy when we serve together.
Nehemiah ends with this prayer:
Remember me with favor, my God, for all that I have done for these people.
Keep reverence for God. Fear the Lord. Do as Nehemiah did: serve and keep yourself devoted to the work. In his case, it was building the wall. For us, it's the work of building God's kingdom.
The Lord will bless you. You will have his favor.
Amen.
We've been following Nehemiah's journey over the past few weeks. First, we saw the spiritual attack in Nehemiah 4:1–9, where external enemies threatened the rebuilding of Jerusalem's wall. Then Nehemiah encouraged people and built them up during a time of fear. Now we face a different kind of problem—not external conflict, but an in-house problem.
This makes sense when you think about it: if you're building a wall and standing guard, you have limited time to work your farmland and provide food for your family. The people are working extremely hard, stretched to their limits.
Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews.
Notice that both men and women are crying out. This emphasis shows how serious the situation had become. The problem centers on exploitation within God's own family.
People were forced to:
Their summary in verse 5 is heartbreaking: "We are powerless because our fields and our vineyards belong to others." Imagine being so poor that you must send your children to work for someone unkind simply because you cannot afford to keep them.
While we see similar exploitation in modern society—through predatory loans and abuse by drug gangs—this crisis is happening within the people of God. That makes it a spiritual problem, not merely an economic one.
Why is this happening? The nobles and officials were charging their own people interest on loans. Deuteronomy 23:19 was clear: "Do not charge a fellow Israelite interest, whether on money or food or anything else that may earn interest."
But the deepest issue goes further. When Nehemiah confronts the officials, he asks:
Shouldn't you walk in the fear of our God to avoid the reproach of our gentile enemies?
When we stop walking in the fear of the Lord, we succumb to temptation and unkindness toward one another. This is the root of the problem. They had stopped walking with God.
This is a challenge for all of us. We want to finish our lives well, following Jesus. But it's not a guarantee. When we don't fear the Lord and begin to give in to temptation and walk away, we enter a place of danger.
Nehemiah's response shows real courage:
He heard their cry. There's something vital about truly hearing the pain within our community—not just the general pain of life, but the pain we cause each other.
He was angry, but thoughtfully so. He pondered the situation in his mind before acting.
He spoke up. "What you are doing is not right," he said to the officials. We must be able to say this when we see injustice.
He gave a strong command:
Give back to them immediately their fields, vineyards, olive groves, and houses, and also the interest you were charging them—1% of the money, grain, new wine, and olive oil.
In this way, may God shake out of their house and possessions anyone who does not keep this promise.
When the officials heard Nehemiah's challenge, they kept quiet because they could find nothing to say. Their silence led to conviction and repentance.
Their response in verse 12 is beautiful: "We will give it back. We will not demand anything more from them. We will do as you say."
There is always the possibility of redemption. This is what we're seeing here. The officials had done wrong, but they were willing to repent and make it right.
In the Church of England, every parish must have safeguarding officers and comprehensive policies. Here at HTL, our safeguarding officers are Alex Scott and Bridget Patel. As your incumbent, I'm also someone you can speak with.
We have policies covering:
You can find these on our website. Why does this matter? Without proper procedures, we risk deciding individually what's good and bad. Healthy accountability protects everyone and removes subjectivity.
If you work in a secular environment, your workplace has these structures. The church needs them too. We are a church full of sinful people as well as saints—and often they're the same person. I am a sinful saint. You are too. But there's always room for redemption, which is why we need good procedures in place.
A diocesan audit is currently underway. We would love every member of HTL to complete the safeguarding survey. The auditors don't just want my perspective—they want your experience. This is part of our responsibility to be accountable, just as Nehemiah was.
Most of us, however, face a different kind of conflict—not legal issues, but the normal conflicts of everyday life. Matthew 18:15–19 provides the framework:
If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. But if they will not listen, take one or two others along so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church.
Let me give you an example. I've worked with Jit for about seven or eight years, and we've had a good relationship. But one day, when the young adults were asking us questions, something unexpected happened. Unknowingly and innocently, I pressed a button of pain in him, and he unknowingly pressed a button of pain in me. In front of the young adults, we had what we call in the UK a "ding-dong"—a bit of a verbal fight.
Being mature people, we stopped ourselves quickly. But afterward, in the office, we were both a bit "off" with each other. We sort of said we were all right, but we weren't—not really.
Later, I reflected and realized I was wrong. I emailed Jit and apologized. He came back and explained what was going on for him. Because we had the conversation, we understood each other. We discovered that unknowingly and unintentionally, we'd pressed each other's buttons of pain. We even shared something about those painful buttons that we'd never shared before.
If we hadn't had that conversation and just gone away angry, resentment would have festered. Weeks or months later, the original issue would be buried under layers of hurt. What was easily solved would have become complicated.
Scripture is so practical and helpful. If we can't resolve it ourselves, we go to the church wardens and ask for help having a conversation. Do you see?
We need to understand our differences. I'm from a working-class background, and I'm not ashamed of it. But our church has people from many backgrounds, cultures, and neurological differences. When I visit a working-class friend's home, I might walk in and make myself tea. When I visit friends from a more formal background, I knock on the door and wait for an invitation. Neither approach is wrong—they're just different.
We have international brothers and sisters among us who are translating constantly, even while under pressure. We have people with neurological differences like autism. Our job first is to be kind and to understand how life is different for others.
Nehemiah shows us what it means to be a servant leader. He could have claimed all the rights and privileges due to the governor. Instead:
Neither I nor my brothers ate the food allotted to the governor. The earlier governors placed a heavy burden on the people and took 40 shekels of silver from them, in addition to food and wine. But out of reverence for God, I did not act like that.
Instead, he fed 150 Jews and officials at his table daily, including those from surrounding nations. He gave generously rather than demanding what was rightfully his.
Jesus taught this in Mark 10:42–45:
You know that those regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant. Whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.
We are called to be a servant people.
Oskar Schindler during World War II used his wealth and influence to save more than a thousand Jews from Nazi persecution. Instead of using his power for personal gain, he risked his position to protect vulnerable people.
In our own time, we see modern Nehemiahs:
So many of you are doing these things. That's servant-heartedness. Our money is not our own—it's the Lord's. Our lives are not our own—they're his. What a joy when we serve together.
Nehemiah ends with this prayer:
Remember me with favor, my God, for all that I have done for these people.
Keep reverence for God. Fear the Lord. Do as Nehemiah did: serve and keep yourself devoted to the work. In his case, it was building the wall. For us, it's the work of building God's kingdom.
The Lord will bless you. You will have his favor.
Amen.
