The Midnight Horseman
Nehemiah 2:12-20
And I arose in the night, I and some few men with me; neither told I any man what my God had put in my heart to do at Jerusalem…


I. My subject impresses me with the idea WHAT AN INTENSE THING IS ATTACHMENT TO THE HOUSE OF GOD. It is through the spectacles of this scene that we discover the ardent attachment of Nehemiah for that sacred Jerusalem which in all ages has been the type of the Church of God, our Jerusalem, which we love just as much as Nehemiah loved his Jerusalem. What Jerusalem was to Nehemiah the house of God is to you. Infidels may scoff at the Church as an obsolete affair, as a relic of the dark ages, as a convention of goody-goody people, but all the impression they have ever made on your mind against the Church of God is absolutely nothing. You would make more sacrifices for it to-day than for any other institution, and if it were needful, you would die in its defence.

II. THE RUINS MUST BE EXPLORED BEFORE THE WORK OF RECONSTRUCTION CAN BEGIN. The reason that so many people in this day, apparently converted, do not remain converted, is because they did not first explore the ruin of their own heart. There was a superstructure of religion built on a substratum of unrepented sins. The trouble with a good deal of modern theology is that, instead of building on the right foundation, it builds on debris of an unregenerated nature. They attempt to rebuild Jerusalem before, in the midnight of conviction, they have seen the ghastliness of the ruin. A dentist said to me a few days ago, "Does that hurt?" I replied, "Of course it hurts. It is in your business as in my profession — we have to hurt before we can help; we have to explore and dig away before we can put in the gold." You will never understand redemption until you understand ruin. A man comes to me to talk about religion. The first question I ask him is, "Do you feel yourself to be a sinner?" If he says, "Well, I — yes," the hesitancy makes me feel that the man wants a ride on Nehemiah's horse by midnight through the ruins — in at the gate of his affections, out at the gate of his will, by the dragon well; and before he has got through with that midnight ride he will drop the reins on the horse's neck, and he will take his right hand and smite on his heart, and say, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!"

III. My subject gives me A SPECIMEN OF BUSY AND TRIUMPHANT SADNESS. If there was any man in the world who had a right to mope and give up everything as lost, it was Nehemiah. You say, "He was a cupbearer in the palace of Shushan, and it was a grand place." So it was. But you know very well that fine architecture will not put down home-sickness. Although he had a grief so intense that it excited the commiseration of the king, yet he rouses himself up to rebuild the city. He gets his permission of absence; he gets his passports, he hastens away to Jerusalem. By night he rides through the ruins; he arouses the piety and patriotism of the people, and in less than two months Jerusalem was rebuilt. That's what I call busy and triumphant sadness. The whole temptation is with you, when you have trouble, to do just the opposite to the behaviour of Nehemiah, and that is to give up. You say, "I have lost my child, and can never smile again." You say, "I have lost my property, and I can never repair my fortunes." You say, "I have fallen into sin, and I can never start again for a new life." If Satan can make you form that resolution, and make you keep it, he has ruined you. Trouble is not sent to crush you, but to arouse you, to animate you, to propel you. Oh, that the Lord God of Nehemiah would arouse up all broken-hearted people to rebuild. Whipped, betrayed, shipwrecked, imprisoned, Paul went right on. I knew a mother who buried her babe on Friday, and on the Sabbath appeared in the house of God, and said, "Give me a class; give me a Sabbath-school class. I have no child now left me, and I would like to have a class of little children. Give me really poor children. Give me a class off the back street." That is beautiful. That is triumphant sadness.

(T. De Witt Talmage.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: And I arose in the night, I and some few men with me; neither told I any man what my God had put in my heart to do at Jerusalem: neither was there any beast with me, save the beast that I rode upon.

WEB: I arose in the night, I and some few men with me; neither told I any man what my God put into my heart to do for Jerusalem; neither was there any animal with me, except the animal that I rode on.




The Divine Visit to the Soul
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