And it came to pass in the month Nisan, in the twentieth year of Artaxerxes the king, [that] wine was before him, and I took up the wine and gave it to the king. Now, I had never been sad in his presence.
Four months after the news of Jerusalem's ruin reached him, Nehemiah is doing his usual job: handing the king his wine. The verse looks routine, but it raises two questions the whole book turns on: why did God make him wait, and why did his grief show now?
The dates in chapter 1 and chapter 2 are not decoration. They mark a long gap between prayer and answer. One writer reads that gap as God's training.
Four months had passed since he offered the prayer recorded in Nehemiah 1. He is careful to give us the dates. In the month Chislev (our November) he had prayed; and in the month Nisan (our March) the answer came. Through that whole period, man of faith though he was, he must have waited on God in daily expectation. He could not foresee how the answer would come; but he knew that God could step in when and how He would... It is in this way God both tests and strengthens the faith of His people. He waits while they wait. But if He waits, it is only to bring His people into fuller dependence on Himself, and so to prepare their hearts for the blessing He is about to give.
Another writer looks at what filled those months.
Hanani had visited his brother Nehemiah in the month Chislev, the ninth month. Nisan is the first month of the Jewish year. How many prayers he must have offered up during those months! How patiently he waited for the Lord's time!
We might expect prayer to lift the burden. Here it did the opposite.
Suppose Nehemiah's sorrow had been only for outward misfortunes — the loss of possessions or any natural thing here below. Then his tears and gloom would all have disappeared in the presence of the Lord. But the presence of the Lord deepened them. The more he went before God and weighed the state of the Jews in Jerusalem, the more grieved he was... Nehemiah was in no way delivered from sadness by his prayer... There was confidence in going to God, and at the same time there was still the deep sense of the ruin.
Nehemiah adds that he had never looked like this before the king. His job was to serve pleasure; his face was serving something else.
The chapter opens with Nehemiah busy in the duties of his office as the king's cup-bearer. He "took up the wine and gave it to the king." But his heart was on other things. It was weighed down by the unspeakable sorrow of his people's condition. Wine and sadness do not go together. Scripture tells us that wine makes a man's heart merry. So the king could not bear it when his cup-bearer wore a sorrowful face at such a moment. It spoiled his own pleasure.
The office itself explains the king's suspicion.
The king's cup-bearer of those days had to be a man of integrity. He had to make sure that nothing undesirable or poisonous got into the king's wine. The news he had just received had affected him so deeply that his sorrow showed in his face. Noticing it, the king was of course suspicious and asked what had made him sorrowful.
Nothing miraculous appears in the verse. A writer argues that this is exactly how God usually answers.
Fasting and sorrow had left their mark on his face. No one was allowed to appear before the king with a sad face... but God used this very thing to put words into the king's mouth that would give Nehemiah an opening for his request. God answers our prayers with miracles like this. They are so much a part of daily Christian life that we hardly notice them. Looking carefully, everything is a miracle in God's ways toward us. He turns aside certain dangers. He arranges certain meetings and prevents others. He gives us certain opportunities and closes certain paths to us.
The twentieth year of Artaxerxes is more than a background detail. One writer makes it the starting point of a prophetic count.
We can fix the date of the command to rebuild Jerusalem exactly. Nehemiah 2:1 states it clearly: the month of Nisan in the twentieth year of the reign of king Artaxerxes. Count four hundred and eighty-three years from then. A prophetic year is three hundred and sixty days, its established length. That makes 173,880 days. The count brings us to the tenth of the month Nisan... the very time when Christ entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey's colt.
- Burden. News of a ruined city settled on Nehemiah's heart and stayed there for four months, from Chislev to Nisan.
- Waiting. God waits while His people wait. The delay tests and strengthens faith.
- Deepening. Prayer did not remove the sorrow; going before God made the sense of ruin deeper, not lighter.
- Opening. The face he could not hide became the very thing God used to put the question into the king's mouth.
- Landmark. That ordinary day at the wine cup fixes a date: 483 prophetic years later, Christ rode into Jerusalem.
And the king said to me, Why is thy face sad, seeing thou art not sick? this is nothing else but sadness of heart. And I was very sore afraid.
Four months after Nehemiah prayed about Jerusalem's ruined walls, his grief shows on his face at work. The king sees it, and his question turns private sorrow into open danger — and into the answer to that prayer.
The gap between the prayer of chapter 1 and this scene was not empty time. One writer explains what the delay was doing in Nehemiah:
Four months had passed since he had offered the prayer recorded in Nehemiah 1... He could not foresee how the answer would come; but he knew that God could step in when and how He would... It is in this way God both tries and strengthens the faith of His people. He waits while they wait. But if He waits, it is only to bring His people into fuller dependence on Himself. That prepares their hearts more fully for the blessing He is about to give. And when He steps in, it is often as quiet and unseen as it was here. Only the eye of faith can detect His presence.
You might expect prayer about Jerusalem to lift Nehemiah's mood. One writer reads it the other way round:
If his grief had been only about outward troubles — the loss of possessions, or anything else in this life — his tears and gloom would all have disappeared in the presence of the Lord. Instead, the presence of the Lord deepened them. The more he went before God and weighed the state of the Jews in Jerusalem, the more grieved he was... Nehemiah was in no way delivered from sadness by his prayer. There was confidence in going to God, but at the same time there was still the deep sense of the ruin.
Nehemiah was on duty, handing the king his wine. His face did not fit the occasion.
He took up the wine and gave it to the king, but his mind was on other things. The terrible sorrow of his people's condition weighed his heart down. But wine and sadness do not go together. Scripture tells us that wine makes a man's heart glad. So the king could not bear his cup-bearer wearing a sad face at such a time. It destroyed his own pleasure.
The king rules out illness first. One writer traces the sadness back to its source:
Nehemiah's attitude came from a heart drawn out toward the condition of what was precious to God. The king could see that this was something deeper than a physical problem, for he says, "You are not sick." It went much deeper. What Nehemiah had heard about the interests of God in Jerusalem had burdened and troubled his spirit.
Nehemiah records his fear honestly. One writer names what a suspicious king could have made of a servant's gloom:
Nehemiah tells us honestly how afraid he was, for it might have cost him his life. The king might have suspected treason. He might have suspected some dark plot, and that Nehemiah's conscience was at work. All sorts of things might have come into his mind as he tried to explain the unusual gloom on his servant's face.
One writer points to the king's mood, and to what it could have led to:
The king was angry... Nehemiah might well have been afraid, for in such a mood Artaxerxes, the Persian king, could have had him executed on the spot. But though he was afraid, God kept his presence of mind.
The danger of this moment throws light on something better by contrast. Where an earthly ruler demanded that everyone match his mood, God invites the opposite:
He gives our hearts liberty to decide the character of our communion with Him. Let it be, He says, according to your condition. "Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise." This is not the way of a master or a patron. The patron's pleasure or mood must set the tone of the scene around him. It was dangerous to spoil the presence of the Persian king with sadness. There was danger of death if one had a heavy face there... But God's presence gives room to the heart and its conditions, whatever they may be.
- Wait. God let four months pass after Nehemiah's prayer. The delay was not neglect but training in dependence on Him alone.
- Burden. His grief was not for himself but for a ruined city. Going to God about it made the sorrow deeper, not lighter.
- Exposure. The burden showed at the wine table, where it was least welcome. The king saw straight through it: not sickness, but sorrow of heart.
- Fear. His fear made sense. A king with absolute power could have read gloom as treason and ordered his death.
- Welcome. A royal court banned sadness from its presence. God's presence makes room for the heart in any condition.
And I said to the king, Let the king live for ever! Why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers' sepulchres, lies waste, and its gates are consumed with fire?
Nehemiah serves wine to King Artaxerxes, months after he began mourning over the ruin of Jerusalem. The king notices his sad face, and Nehemiah answers by naming the city for its graves.
Nehemiah had already fasted and prayed. Yet he still stood before the king with a sad face.
Suppose his trouble had been only outward: the loss of property, or any other natural thing here below. Then his tears and gloom would have all disappeared in the presence of the Lord. But the presence of the Lord deepened them. The more he went before God and weighed the state of the Jews in Jerusalem, the more grieved he was... Nehemiah was in no way delivered from sadness by his prayer. There was confidence in going to God, but at the same time there was still the deep sense of the ruin.
A cup-bearer served the king's pleasure, and a sad servant spoiled it. Speaking the truth here was dangerous.
Wine and sadness do not go together. Scripture tells us that wine makes a man's heart merry. The king could not bear to have his cup-bearer wear a sad face at such a time. It destroyed his own pleasure... The king therefore was angry... "Then," says Nehemiah, "I was very much afraid." And well he might have been. In such a mood, Artaxerxes might have sent him out to be executed at once. But though he was afraid, God kept him calm. Out of the fullness of his heart, God led him to tell the plain truth about why he was sad.
Nehemiah could have named Jerusalem in many ways. The words he chooses show what ties him to it.
He emphasises "the place of my fathers' graves"; he does not say the place of my fathers' achievements. One generation had followed another on God's own land. Nehemiah seems to say that this is the place where he ought to be, keeping up what they kept up when they were there.
The same phrase reads as warmth rather than argument. It is how a man speaks of home he has never seen.
Along with this exercise of his spirit towards God, Nehemiah's heart was alive to his brothers. In deep affection, and in that eloquence that comes fresh from the heart and its promptings, he calls Jerusalem "the city of his fathers' tombs." All this presents to us a very attractive person.
Nehemiah names two ruins: the waste city and the burnt gates. The second is not a small detail, and the enemy knew it.
Our work does not consist only in raising up the wall: we must also work on the gates. The enemy knew very well what he was doing when he burned the gates of Jerusalem with fire. The gates of a city are just as important as the wall, and even more so. Gates can open to let the people of the city come and go. They can also shut out anything foreign, sinful, contagious or criminal that tries to settle inside the city.
The face Nehemiah was not allowed to wear opened the door. It answered the prayer he had prayed months before.
Nehemiah's prayer was answered after he had mourned for days — that is, about four months. Fasting and sorrow had left their mark on his face. No one was allowed to appear before the king with a sad face. But God used this very thing to put words into the king's mouth, and those words gave Nehemiah his chance to ask. Such miracles come in answer to our prayers. They are so much a part of daily Christian life that we hardly notice them.
Nehemiah could have enjoyed the palace and forgotten the ruin. One writer turns that choice on us.
Suppose we satisfy ourselves only with the mercies the Lord shows us. That would be just like Nehemiah blessing God for what he enjoyed in the great king's palace. He would be content without a thought, without a care, without a tear and without a prayer for the people of God. But not so. Of everything on earth, his whole heart was set on them. He grieved because that people of God was now falling short of what was due to His glory here below.
- Prayer deepened it. Prayer did not lift Nehemiah's sadness. He grieved over the ruin of God's people, not over personal loss, so time with God only deepened it.
- Sadness cost him. A sad face in that court could have cost him his life. He told the plain truth anyway, and God kept him calm.
- Graves, not glory. He names Jerusalem by his fathers' graves, not their achievements. That is a man saying where he belongs and what he must keep up.
- Gates, not only walls. The enemy knew what he was doing when he burned the gates. A gate lets the city's own people come and go, and shuts out what would corrupt them.
- The face opened the door. The sad face the court forbade became God's way of putting words into the king's mouth. Such answers look so ordinary that we hardly notice the miracle.
And the king said to me, For what dost thou make request? So I prayed to the God of the heavens.
Nehemiah is cupbearer to the Persian king, and the king has just asked him to name what he wants. In the moment before he answers, he speaks to heaven first.
The king's question demanded an answer on the spot. One writer draws out where Nehemiah turned first:
Here is what I want to show — how truly it is a question of faith. "Then the king said to me, 'What are you requesting?'" What does he do? Does he make a request to the king? No, he makes his request to God. "So I prayed to the God of heaven." It is not that he does not tell the king. But even at that moment, in the presence of the king himself, his heart was toward the Lord. No wonder he got his request. No wonder God listened and heard, and he could take it as from Him. Why? Because he prayed to the Lord first.
Another writer follows that order in Nehemiah's own record.
The record is, first, "So I prayed to the God of heaven," and then, "I said to the king…" God first, and the king second. This silent prayer must have shot up to heaven in two or three seconds, quite unknown to the king or anybody else. Heaven answered it just as fast, so the request he made was the right one, and it met with a favourable answer.
The king was waiting, so the prayer had to fit a gap no one noticed.
Here we have a prayer offered in the interval between the king's question and Nehemiah's reply. It must have been brief. Eastern kings were not in the habit of waiting long for their cupbearers to answer them. But there was time enough for the prayer to rise and for help to come. The case was urgent and the relief was instant.
There is a reason the answer did not come straight away.
When the king asks, "What are you requesting?", Nehemiah does not reply at once. He first lifts his heart to God, and God puts into his heart what he should say to the king. That is like what the Lord said: "And when they bring you before the synagogues and the rulers and the authorities, do not be anxious about how you should defend yourself or what you should say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say" (Luke 12:11-12).
A prayer that quick shows what a man does when no one is watching.
Most would have hurried to answer the king. They would have concluded that since he had stooped to ask the question, he was bound to grant the favour. Not so Nehemiah, and this brings out a special trait in him. … Before he answered his master he cast himself upon his God. He acknowledges that he depends on God for wisdom to say the right thing. He shows the special mark that another has called "a heart that habitually turned to God." We might well seek the same grace… When this is the case, the presence of God will be more real to us than the presence of men.
The title Nehemiah uses fits his moment in history. One writer explains what had changed.
God gave up Judah to the Gentiles for turning away from Him, as He had given up Israel before. He pronounced the sentence of Lo-ammi (not my people). He then stopped acting as God of the earth, the Jehovah of His people. As "God of the heavens" He granted world rule for a time to the four Gentile empires that followed.
Standing before the most powerful man on earth, Nehemiah reaches for the name that says who is really in charge.
We have little idea today of the splendour and greatness of that monarchy, but it was not this visible greatness that filled Nehemiah's mind — it was the God of heaven. He recognised that however great and important the circumstances around him were, it was the heavens that rule, and he was in conscious touch with the God of heaven.
The king agreed. Nehemiah credits none of it to himself.
At once Nehemiah recognises that the king's ready agreement was the result of the good hand of God. … We may remember to turn to God in our difficulties and forget to acknowledge His goodness when they are met. It is well to enter a difficulty in a spirit of prayer, and to come out of it in a spirit of praise.
- Order. Nehemiah prayed before he answered — God first, the king second. He got what he asked because he prayed to the Lord first.
- Speed. The prayer filled the gap between question and answer. There was time enough for it to rise and for help to come.
- Supply. Nehemiah did not answer out of his own wisdom; God put into his heart what to say to the king.
- Habit. A prayer that fast comes from a heart that habitually turns to God — and then God's presence is more real to us than the presence of men.
- Praise. He entered the difficulty praying and came out praising — turning to God in trouble, and thanking Him when it is over.