Building the Wall in the Face of Mockers

(Psalm 129)
by Doug Floyd

'Much have they afflicted me from my youth up', let Israel now say;
'Much have they afflicted me from my youth up; but they have not prevailed against me.
The plowers plowed upon my back; they made long their furrows.
HaShem is righteous; He hath cut asunder the cords of the wicked.'
Let them be ashamed and turned backward, all they that hate Zion.
Let them be as the grass upon the housetops, which withereth afore it springeth up;
Wherewith the reaper filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom.
Neither do they that go by say: 'The blessing of HaShem be upon you; we bless you in the name
of HaShem.'

We had been sleeping in our clothes day after day after day. Everyone was tired. Some days I
wondered if we’d ever see the end. Some days I was sure that every ounce of strength had been
poured out and nothing was left. And yet, we kept building.

Every morning we marched to the wall like a little army. All through the day and even into the
night, we’d hear shouts from outside the city. Mocking us. Threatening us. Haunting us.

Some nights I wake up certain that someone was standing over me ready to cut my throat. But
nothing. The night hung with dread. When the dawn came, I’d rejoin the work and soon start
singing yet again.

Music. Ah yes, music. Now that seemed to give me strength. No matter how tired, how fearful, I
felt, the music soon stirred a new boldness, a new energy, a new resistance. We would build this
wall and nothing, no one would stop us.

We sang,
'Much have they afflicted me from my youth up',

and again,

'Much have they afflicted me from my youth up;

This refrain would be repeated again and again as it circled the wall. Soon all the people were
joined in one voice,

'Much have they afflicted me from my youth up;

It built up louder and louder and louder until finally one of the Levites burst forth,

“but they have not prevailed against me.”

and again,
“but they have not prevailed against me.”
“but they have not prevailed against me.”

louder,

“but they have not prevailed against me.”

And we joined in one voice, we felt clothed in the power of the song. Like a grand drama, we
lived out the story of our fathers and their fathers in the song.

During Pesach, Shalmai, the old Levite in our midst, reminded us to say that, “HaShem delivered
me from Egypt.” Not just my father’s fathers, Not just my father, but I was broken under the
yoke of Pharaoh. I burned in the hot sun of Egypt. I cried out for deliverance, and HaShem heard
me. Every year, our clan reenacted the whole Exodus along with all the clans of Israel. Every
where we danced Miriam’s dance, and laughed until we were intoxicated with joy. HaShem
heard our cry, HaShem remembered.

Those memories burned in my mind as we continued singing,

“The plowers plowed upon my back; they made long their furrows.”
HaShem is righteous; He hath cut asunder the cords of the wicked.'

The joy in singing of HaShem’s faithfulness almost interrupted work as whoops and hollers went
up, and we all felt the dance in our feet. But we kept working, emboldened in the face of those
who sought to stop us, who sought to kill us. HaShem was faithful. And in His might, we
mocked our mockers.

Let them be ashamed and turned backward, all they that hate Zion.
Let them be as the grass upon the housetops, which withereth afore it springeth up;
Wherewith the reaper filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom.
Neither do they that go by say: 'The blessing of HaShem be upon you; we bless you in the name
of HaShem.'

This simple song of resistance connected all of us to one another and to HaShem. We couldn't
see Him and Hist angel armies. Our mockers didn’t leave us but continued to threaten. Our
aching bodies still throbbed, and we longed for fresh clothes and deep sleep. But through the
song we kept going. We kept singing, kept rejoicing, and kept building.

The days blur together now, and it seems like a lifetime ago. But I’ll always remember that final
day. For 52 days, we toiled. We poured out our lives, our tears, our hopes into that wall. For 52
days, we sang, we cried, we hoped to make it one more day.

Sometimes it seemed like the end would never come. But it did.
One day a shout went forth and Nehemiah circled the city, visiting every gate, and every clan. As
he rode into our camp, we cried aloud together, “It is finished!”

The walls of Jerusalem restored. HaShem protected us. The voices of death, and hopelessness
and mocked fell away. We stood and sang and danced with all our heart before the faithful Father
of us all.