“In the month of Nisan in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when wine was brought for him, I took the wine and gave it to the king. I had not been sad in his presence before; so the king asked me, ‘Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart.'”
Nehemiah 2:1-2a
Last time our leader asked God for mercy, deep compassion, before the face of the king. He did this in the month of Kislev, November/December in our calendar. About 5 months later, in the Jewish month of Nisan (March/April), we get to spy on the conversation in which God answers Nehemiah’s prayer.
“The following Spring, when wine was brought before the face of King Artaxeres, I took the wine and gave it to him. I had not been unhappy before his face; so the king asked me, ‘Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart.’”
I’ve been touched reading different blog posts this week about depression and suicide prevention. Particularly in regards to how believers handle each other’s struggles. I think this can be tricky territory. For one thing, the word for sadness of heart (roa) can also mean evil. And we know from Jeremiah that our hearts on their own are deceitful. As in, we cannot trust all our feelings and intentions if those feelings and intentions are not surrendered to God. The One Who is greater than our hearts and knows everything – even those things we can’t see or refuse to see.
But on the other hand, there is more Hebrew evidence that the sadness, this heavy heart of Nehemiah’s, was sorrow. Ra can mean adversity. And the particular use of leb – the inner man/will/heart in Nehemiah 2:2 is rendered “the seat of emotions is sorrow.” Furthermore, as we will see coming up in verse 3, the sadness is referred to affliction.
Nehemiah was brokenhearted. This makes sense as he found out his brothers/fellow Judah-ites were living in a city with broken walls.
So what does this have to do with us? How can we determine when our (very real) sorrow is affliction and broken-heartedness or when we are being led astray by our own will?
It seems to me the answer is most likely: it’s both. We cannot escape our brokenness or our broken hearts in this world. There will be times when genuine sorrow over things we cannot control will afflict us. And, in such times, there is almost always something God is refining in us, asking us to deal with Him on. Not because He’s mean but because whatever He’s refining is holding us back from His best for us. And what we learn from our time in the valley can be used to serve others.
He really is a God of deep compassion. He knows the why behind our actions. And He stands by us until we are free.
And those of us – or those times when – we are confessed up, in the Word, walking in community, and still the seat of our emotions is sorrow? Oh, may our response toward ourselves and others be one of tenderness. Nothing hurts like a broken heart and feeling depressed or troubled or afflicted is no joke. That we would be quick to listen and slow to speak when others are in such a space. May the Church be known as a place where lament is common and welcomed, and our God One Who sympathizes with every weakness.
And honestly? I think there might be a third category in all this. I think the Spirit of Christ in His followers can be righteously agitated and our sorrow godly on behalf of justice. I see it everywhere in our time and I believe it is the first step in joining Him in the work of reconciliation. As we will see in the book of Nehemiah, God was moving in his heart to lead a work of restructuring. Rebuilding of walls and forming a community of His people.
He is still doing this now. And we are called to join Him. So don’t let that holy sorrow, that afflicted soul be pushed down. In wisdom, with godly counsel, let’s join the work of our generation.
Because sometimes our sadness of heart yields restoration.