Chuck Larsen

Winston Churchill once said, “Never give up. Never, never, never give up.” Centuries earlier, Nehemiah lived those words. He faced obstacles that could have exhausted even Churchill’s courage. The thirteenth chapter of his book reads like the diary of a man trying to plug leaks in a sinking ship. The priests had become corrupt, Tobiah had moved into the temple as if it were an Airbnb, and the people had lost all sense of holiness. Nehemiah was furious—he tossed Tobiah’s furniture out of the temple and reestablished proper tithing so the Levites could return to service. When he saw people selling goods on the Sabbath, he scolded the nobles of Judah, asking, “What is this evil thing that you are doing, profaning the Sabbath day?” And when the men married pagan wives against God’s command, Nehemiah pulled hair—literally! His zeal reminds us of Jesus driving out the money changers in the temple, fulfilling the Scripture, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” Nehemiah’s methods might not pass modern HR standards, but his passion for purity and perseverance was unmatched.

Life has a way of testing our endurance. Sometimes it feels like we are fighting losing battles too—whether against discouragement, temptation, or the daily grind. Like Nehemiah, we face people who misuse their positions, distractions that clutter sacred space, and pressures that make us forget God’s priorities. It would be easy to quit and say, “What’s the use?” But perseverance is not measured by ease; it is measured by endurance. Leighton Ford once told the story of his son, Sandy, a runner who led a mile race by forty yards until his leg cramped near the finish. He fell once, then twice, but crawled on hands and knees under the tape to win. That is what perseverance looks like—getting up when everything hurts and pressing forward anyway. As Paul wrote, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).

Nehemiah’s relentless spirit points to Jesus, who faced even greater opposition yet “endured the cross, despising its shame” (Hebrews 12:2). He never gave up on the work of salvation, never surrendered to sin, and never lost sight of His mission. Paul captured this truth when he wrote, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). Nehemiah built walls, but Jesus built a kingdom—one that stands forever because He refused to quit. Through His strength, we too can keep running, even if sometimes we must crawl across the finish line.

The great revival under Nehemiah began not with a miracle, a march, or a music festival—but with a marathon reading of God’s Word. The people gathered from early morning and stood for one-quarter of the day while Scripture was read aloud. No coffee breaks, no scrolling, no “Are we done yet?”—just the pure Word of God and a crowd hungry to hear it. Try picturing that today: hours of standing and listening without a single text notification or social media check. The next quarter of the day was spent confessing—acknowledging the vast difference between God’s character and our own. As Nehemiah 9:33 summarizes, “You have dealt faithfully, and we have acted wickedly.” The people recognized the truth about God’s faithfulness and their own failures, and that honesty opened the door to renewal. Their revival began not with emotion but with confession.

Confession, at its core, is telling the truth—about God and about ourselves. When we “confess our faith,” we tell the truth about who God is; when we “confess our sins,” we tell the truth about who we are. The Israelites alternated between both: praising God’s goodness and admitting their rebellion. The chapter unfolds like a dialogue of honesty—God’s greatness in creation, covenant, and redemption followed by man’s stubborn disobedience, then God’s grace again. It is an exhausting yet beautiful rhythm: rebellion and mercy, sin and salvation, discipline and deliverance. The people’s suffering had not made God unjust; Nehemiah concluded, “You have been righteous in all that has come upon us.” Confession was not self-pity—it was clarity. When we are honest before God, the fog of pride lifts, and light breaks through. As one wise note in my first Bible said, “This Book will keep you from sin, or sin will keep you from this Book.”

In the New Testament, Jesus echoed the same truth about the Word’s power to expose and restore. He said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). The revival of Nehemiah’s day anticipated the renewal Christ brings through His Word and Spirit. Paul wrote, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). When we read Scripture, it reads us back. Like the Israelites, we discover that revival begins where honesty begins—when we admit, “You are faithful, and we are not.” Yet through Jesus, the Living Word, God turns confession into cleansing and guilt into grace.

Nehemiah’s record of Jerusalem’s reconstruction reads like the minutes of a grand building project. Starting with the Sheep Gate on the north side, the Israelites worked counterclockwise around the city, repairing walls and restoring ten gates. It was a massive undertaking, yet it was not accomplished by engineers or a single visionary. Everyone—from priests to politicians, goldsmiths to gatekeepers, even a few perfumers—had a hammer in hand. Each section of wall carried the fingerprints of people who cared enough to contribute. Nehemiah did not have to post motivational posters that said, “Hang in there!” The people were united by purpose, driven by faith, and energized by the conviction that they were rebuilding something sacred. Together, they completed the wall in record time, despite the jeers of enemies and the ache of tired muscles. It was not a miracle of masonry—it was a miracle of teamwork.

That same principle applies to life today. Great things happen when people rally around a common goal. Paul described the church as a living body, saying, “For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body” (Romans 12:4–5). The body cannot run well if the feet refuse to move or the hands are too tired to help. Every person has a purpose, and when one part slacks off, the rest feel the strain. It is a lesson that even geese understand. Chuck Swindoll once noted that geese flying in formation can travel 71 percent farther than if they flew alone. The lead bird rotates to rest, and those in the rear honk encouragement to the front. It is a noisy but effective illustration of unity in motion. Whether we are leaders, flappers, or honkers, we all help the flock reach its destination.

Nehemiah’s wall foreshadowed something greater than stone and mortar. Jesus came to build a living temple, made not of bricks but of believers. Peter wrote, “You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house” (1 Peter 2:5). Each believer is part of His divine construction project. Some may lead, others follow, and a few might honk from the back pews—but all are essential to the strength of the structure. The Church thrives when everyone builds together, unified under the leadership of the Master Builder whose blueprint is love and whose walls will never fall.

Nehemiah had his heart set on rebuilding the city of Jerusalem. When he first heard that the walls were broken and the gates burned, his burden became a blueprint. He prayed, planned, and persisted until God opened the door. It was no small task—he needed the king’s permission, funds, workers, and courage enough to face every kind of opposition. The king of Persia granted him favor, and Nehemiah gathered a weary remnant to rebuild what had been in ruins for generations. But the enemies were loud and plentiful. Sanballat, Tobiah, and Geshem scoffed, threatened, and conspired against him. As Nehemiah wrote, “It displeased them greatly that someone had come to seek the welfare of the people of Israel.” The more they mocked, the harder he worked. Nehemiah had discovered what every dreamer of God’s purposes learns eventually—when you rise to build, someone will always rise to block.

In many ways, Israel today faces the same kind of relentless opposition. Since the replanting of the nation in 1948, and continuing through the conflict following Hamas’s attack in October 2023, the nation has been surrounded by hostility. Every time it seeks peace, someone nearby prefers destruction. Like Nehemiah, Israel rebuilds under pressure—trowel in one hand, defense in the other. The protests and politics of the world may shift, but the principle remains: rebuilding anything that matters will always draw resistance. In our own lives, whenever we determine to rebuild something broken—a marriage, a reputation, a church, or our own faith—we discover our own versions of Sanballat and Tobiah. Critics, cynics, and internal doubts line up to whisper, “You’ll never finish.” But God has a different message: “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). Perseverance may not always look glamorous, but it gets the wall built.

Nehemiah’s determination points us toward Jesus, who set His heart on rebuilding humanity itself. Like Nehemiah, He faced mockery and opposition, yet He pressed on “for the joy that was set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus came to restore what sin had shattered—to rebuild the ruins of our souls. The cross looked like defeat, but it was the cornerstone of redemption. Paul reminds us, “You are God’s building” (1 Corinthians 3:9). Nehemiah rebuilt a city; Christ rebuilds hearts. Both faced enemies, both triumphed through perseverance, and both prove that when God authors a plan, not even hell’s rubble can keep it from completion.