The Outcry of the Oppressed

Nehemiah 5

Nehemiah may have come to Jerusalem to rebuild the broken walls and fortify the gates, but that was just the first layer of restoration so desperately needed. He discovers that beneath the surface, a deep crack divides fellow Jews from one another, and their relationships are in shambles; the victims raise an outcry. 

The first time crying occurs in the Bible, it comes from a murdered brother’s blood, 

and the cry goes straight to the ears of God (Genesis 4:10).

When an outcry is raised against the debauchery of an entire city,

this great cry moves God to intervene in judgment (Genesis 18:20,21). 

When Israel sees Pharaoh marching toward them, “they were terrified and cried out to the Lord” who hears and defends them (Exodus 14:10).

In the Law to His people, God warns not to oppress an orphan, a widow, or the poor, 

because if they cried out to God about any mistreatment, 

He would hear, and His wrath would burn against the oppressor (Exodus 22:21-27).

Over and over, God’s people suffer at the hands of stronger nations, 

and when they cry out to Him, He saves (Judges 10:11,12).

But, brothers weren’t supposed to provoke such cries (Deuteronomy 23:19,20).

Whether it’s a city, an army, or a family member who plays the part of aggressor, God hears the outcry of the oppressed and sides with them against their oppressor. 

If you’re a victim, raise an outcry.

If the cries reach your ears, how can you lighten the load like Nehemiah did? It may put you in similarly awkward positions of confrontation, it may require self-sacrifice, and it may mean doing what no former leader has done, but standing with the weak is linking arms with God.

A resource for devastation

I just returned from speaking at a weekend retreat at Lake Ann Camp in Michigan. A highlight for me was to hear women’s stories of what God is doing in their lives, but, most often, woven within the threads of God’s activity, is deep pain.

One of the ladies crocheted while she waited for the session to begin, and it made me think about the colors God weaves in as he knits His plan for our lives together.

The dark and the light.

The dark that makes the light pop.

The dark that recedes when it’s next to the light.

Color stands out when its opposite force is present. While seemingly working against it, the opposing color actually makes the other even more visible, purposeful, and - eventually - beautiful.

But what if God doesn’t seem to be at the light part yet in the crocheting of my life? Someone I admire for her reaction to the dark pain that came into her life, is Carol Kent. Her book When I Lay My Isaac Down, tells the story of redemption through tragedy, even though the tragedy lingers and is life-long. If you’re walking through loss, grief, and ongoing trials, When I Lay My Isaac Down might be your guide like a flashlight in the dark.

“The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5

Why should I sing?

One of the ways that God has currently called me to serve our church is by being part of the team that leads worship. Because of that, I try to be alert to Scripture that refers to songs and music. Why do we sing? What is music’s purpose? And what if I don’t feel like singing? Won’t that make me fake?

Recently in my morning devotions, I came to Psalm 13:5,6: “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord because He has dealt bountifully with me.”

Sometimes the dealings of the Lord with us don’t seem too bountiful. How often have I thought that I wouldn’t mind just a little more of His bounty in my life? A little more abundance? And then I could sing.

Yet, this Psalm didn’t start out from a place of overflow. In the opening, David questioned God, “how long will you forget me?…will I have sorrow in my heart all day?...how long will the enemy be exalted?” David feels forgotten, sorrowful, and victimized. Not really reasons to sing.

But.

His trust isn’t contingent upon God suddenly showing His face. His trust isn’t based on God immediately wiping away his sorrow or completely destroying his enemy. His trust is that God’s steadfast love endures when God is invisible; God’s steadfast love remains when sorrow is deep; God’s steadfast love holds him up when the enemy puts him down.

And David’s joy comes from a steady source: his salvation. Jesus pointed his disciples in that direction in Luke 10:20: “Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” The source of our joy isn’t even having a good day of God working through us; rather, it’s our eternally secure salvation, rain or shine. 

“But God shows His love for us 

in that while we were still sinners, 

Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

“In this is love: not that we have loved God, 

but that He loved us and sent His Son 

to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” 1 John 4:10

The bountiful dealings of God toward us are His steadfast love and His gift of salvation. When we believe that, then even if we wake up next Sunday morning and feel like David in verses 1-4, our song raised in praise can still be authentic.