Beyond the Walls: Why Every Name Matters

Introduction: More Than Just Names

Eleven years ago, we visited Ellis Island in New York. Looking through the hundreds of names of those who passed through the island was, frankly, quite boring. They were just names we didn’t know. But then, we found the name of Angie’s father, who had come from Ireland to America when he was only 18 years old. Suddenly, the list came alive, and we were thrilled!

Often, reading through a list of names in the Bible can feel just as dull. But to the Israelites, these were not dusty, irrelevant catalogs of names. They conveyed a series of far-reaching biblical truths.

The Challenge of Rebuilding (Verse 1)

Nehemiah 11 gives us a list of names that reveals Nehemiah’s plan to repopulate Jerusalem. The wall was finished, and the prayers, praises, and covenants had been signed; but for the city to have an economic, social, and spiritual life, it needed people.

The situation was difficult: the walls were still weak, and the city was in ruins, making it neither attractive nor safe. Furthermore, most of the people were farmers. They were used to the life they knew—growing their own food and enjoying the stability of the countryside. Living in a city was costly, noisy, and unfamiliar. When the work of building was done, the Israelites wanted to return to their homes in the surrounding villages.

This left a very small portion of Judah’s population living within the city walls. While the leaders stepped up to reside there, it wasn't enough. Nehemiah knew that if Jerusalem were to thrive, their numbers needed to grow. So, he gathered the people and cast lots, choosing one out of every ten to relocate to the city.

In their culture, casting lots wasn't a form of gambling; it was a way to seek God’s direction. It is similar to us drawing straws—usually, when you draw the "short straw," it signifies a task no one wants. I remember a movie from my childhood about people trapped in a cave, starving to death. They drew pieces of torn clothing to see who would be sacrificed so the others could survive. Everyone dreaded that short straw. In fact, right after cutting of the leg of the one who drew the short straw, they were rescued.

Try to imagine the Israelites watching the lots being tossed. You can almost hear the whispered, nervous prayers: "Is it going to land on me? I hope not!" Or perhaps the desperate bargaining: "Hey, Joshua, the lot landed on me. I’ll give you 5,000 shekels if you take my place." Some might have even tried to hide in the back of the crowd, hoping not to be seen.

But what strikes us about Nehemiah’s process is the people’s reaction. To the Israelites, having the lot fall on you was a blessing, not a curse, because it revealed God’s divine will and purpose for their lives. Their personal desires became secondary. Discovering God’s mind for their future took priority over everything else.

But to be chosen, wasn’t an easy path to take. These farmers were moving from a life they understood to a cash-based urban economy where they had no established trade. They faced new financial obligations—taxes, temple contributions, and the need to buy the food they once grew themselves. Yet, when the lot fell on them, they trusted that God would provide.

Personal Reflection: The "Lot" in My Own Life

In college, I studied electrical engineering, and one of my required courses was in Fortran—a high-performance programming language. It was completely over my head. I was failing. I even paid a friend to help me with the homework, but while he programmed, I was just focused on what I was going to eat for dinner. I might have gotten a high grade on the homework, but I failed the final exam.

Later, after moving to Chicago, my pastor told me about a program at DePaul University for COBOL, another computer language. It was a path to a better income for my growing family. Universities were offering these certificates because businesses feared a massive computer crash when the year 2000 arrived. I applied.

It was torture. I was working full-time, we had just had our first baby, and I was deeply involved at church. I didn’t understand a single word the teachers were saying, and I had no time to study. So, every Saturday morning, sitting at a computer borrowed from a friend, the very first thing I would do was pray: "God, I have no idea what I’m doing. You need to help me understand. Please do this for your glory, not mine."

Because I knew this was God’s will, I persevered. After eight torturous months, I finished the class with an "A, with distinction." Two weeks before graduating, I got a job where I stayed for 25 years.

Following God’s plan for our lives doesn’t always mean an easy life. But it is a life I would gladly follow, no matter how many times the "lot" falls on me.

Lessons in Sacrifice and Humility (Verses 2-24)

After the lots were cast, something unexpected happened. Verse 2 says, “The people commended all the men who volunteered to live in Jerusalem.” Despite the known hardships of city life, there were others who freely offered themselves for this new mission.

It is one thing to be chosen, but it is quite another to step forward by choice. When a need is identified, some feel a strong, immediate desire to volunteer, even if it means putting themselves or their families in harm’s way.

We see this kind of sacrificial spirit today; following the devastating earthquakes in Venezuela on June 24, many people risked their own safety to provide life-saving assistance in the hardest-hit regions. Volunteers set up distribution hubs in areas like Montalbán, providing water, food, and medicine while working directly in communities where there was a constant risk of further building collapses. They saw the need, and they volunteered, despite the danger.

In that same spirit, some of the volunteers looked at their neighbors and realized, 'I am in a better position to serve.' This wasn’t arrogance; it was sacrificial love. They saw others burdened by their families or the fear of the unknown, and they chose to step into the gap. It is that rare, Christ-like quality that says, 'I see your need, and I am willing to bear this weight so you don’t have to.

We see this same spirit of profound, sacrificial love in the life of Saint Maximilian Kolbe, a Polish Catholic priest who was arrested and sent to the Auschwitz concentration camp during World War II.

In July 1941, after a prisoner escaped, Nazi authorities selected ten men to be starved to death as retribution. When Franciszek Gajowniczek was selected, he cried out in despair, 'My poor wife! My poor children! I will never see them again!'

At that moment, Kolbe stepped forward. He didn't just offer to do a task; he offered his life. He volunteered to take Gajowniczek's place in the darkness. He and the nine others were placed in an underground starvation bunker. According to testimonies, Kolbe spent his final days leading the others in prayer and song, turning a place of certain death into a cathedral of hope. After surviving two weeks without food or water, he was the last of the group still alive, finally martyred by a lethal injection on August 14, 1941.

(If you want to the biographical film about St. Maximilian Kolbe, titled Triumph of the Heart, the film is only available to be purchased at triumphoftheheart.com.)

Saint Kolbe’s life remains a profound reminder of those who, without a second thought, willingly offer themselves for the sake of others and the work of the Lord. Yet, while his story is a beautiful example of total surrender, it can also feel intimidating. Many of us don’t feel like heroes; we feel small, inadequate, and unworthy. We look at the call of God and feel exactly like the prophets of old.

Consider the contrast between Isaiah and Jeremiah. When God asked, 'Whom shall I send?', Isaiah responded with immediate, courageous fire: 'Here am I. Send me!' (Isaiah 6:8).

Jeremiah, however, responded with human fear. He protested that he was too young and didn't know how to speak (Jeremiah 1:4–10). His hesitation wasn't arrogance; it was the honest, common fear of someone who knows they are not enough for the task at hand.

A Call to Surrender

My brothers and sisters, I know firsthand how hard it is to serve God, and I know what it feels like to be unworthy. Each day when I walk into this sanctuary, I am humbled by the weight of my own inadequacy to be your pastor.

Those who serve God—whether with the eagerness of an Isaiah or the caution of a Jeremiah—must do exactly what those two prophets did. Whether you serve gladly or reluctantly, there must be a total surrender to God’s sovereign purpose. We must be ready to do whatever He has in mind for us. It all boils down to complete surrender.

We talk about surrender as a high and holy calling, but it’s rarely a mountaintop moment. It’s usually a thousand small, quiet decisions made by those who love Jesus more than their own comfort. Looking out at this church, I don't just see a congregation—I see people living out that surrender every day. I see it in how you show up, how you give, and how you hold up the arms of this ministry.

I want to take a brief moment to thank God for those who faithfully serve our church, even when it is not easy...

I thank God for Mike Niquette who I see here two or three times a week preparing our Sunday slides. I thank God for Matt, who manages the creative sign out by the road, and for his wife, Cheryl, who faithfully prays for every one of us.

I thank God for the cleaning crew, the kitchen staff, our missions and outreach team, our elders, our finance team, and our leadership board. This spirit of service is exactly what moved Angie and me to attend this church last October. Every single one of you has sacrificed in one way or another to serve the Lord: Esther, Elizabeth, Carolyn, Judy, Linda, Karen & Don, Jan and Ron, Karen Crim, Becky, Clark, Darrin and Kelly, John and Laura, Mike, Wayne and Trina, Jerry and Ginger, Lynn and Kyle, Mindy, and our good friend Joyce, who faithfully watches every Sunday from home.

I thank and praise God for the work He is doing in your lives, and for His work in rebuilding and repopulating our church family.

We’ve seen today that the people of Israel didn't just go through the motions—they sought the heart of God for their role in the community. And just as Nehemiah gathered them to find their place, I believe God has a specific place for each of you today.

We are going to do something that feels unconventional, but is deeply biblical: we are going to cast lots to determine where we serve. Up here, I have three containers. Each represents a different way to pour your life into this church family:

The Grounds and Maintenance Team: For those who want to care for our building and outdoor space.

The Sanctuary and Hospitality Team: For those who want to prepare our space and welcome people through our doors.

The Gatherers and Encouragers Team: For those who want to focus on prayer, outreach, and connecting with our people.

I invite you to come forward and stand by the container that matches the area you feel led toward. Once you’ve gathered with your team, I will ask you to draw a 'lot' from your container and return to your seat. This lot will reveal the specific task God has set before you for this season.

Don't see this as a random chore. See it as an appointment—a chance to serve the Lord exactly where He needs you. Come, let us seek His direction together (“I Surrender All” hymn plays in the background).

Lord, we thank you for your calling and blessing upon our lives. As the hymnist wrote:

“All to Jesus I surrender, Lord, I give myself to Thee; Fill me with Thy love and power, Let Thy blessing fall on me.”

Help us to surrender the gifts and talents you have given to us for your glory and please bless the work we have been appointed to.

Outside the Walls (Verses 25-36)

For those who weren’t chosen by lot, we see in verses 25–36 where they settled outside of the city. I think one of the worst things ever invented is team captains—you know, the process of choosing who gets to be on the team. Naturally, those chosen first were seen as the most qualified to help the team win. It felt good to be chosen first, but for those chosen last, it was painful—at least it was for me.

For the Israelites, some might have wondered: "Why am I never chosen for anything? Does God think I’m not good enough to live in the city, to protect it, or to help it prosper? Does He think the only place for me is out in the fields?"

But in truth, they didn’t think that way. They knew those who lived outside the walls mattered just as much as those inside. Without the support of the outer villages, Jerusalem could not have survived. In verse 30, we see people settling in Lachish, a fortified city with vital agricultural capacity. In verse 35, others settled in Ge Harashim, which literally means "Valley of the Craftsmen." Without these people and their production of food and skilled labor, Jerusalem could never have grown.

The people of Israel understood that Jerusalem could not survive without the surrounding villages—the farmers in Lachish and the craftsmen in the 'Valley of the Craftsmen.' They realized that those outside the walls were just as essential as those inside.

That is the same truth for us today: to God, everyone matters. Whether you are serving as an elder or working as a nurse, farmer, or retiree, your role is vital to the body of Christ. And it’s not just about those inside our church; it’s about the world beyond our doors. God did not give His Son only for the church; He gave Jesus for the whole world.

In fact, the 'outside' is exactly where God’s heart is. Just because we have been brought into the 'City of God' doesn't mean we are meant to stay here in comfort. Jesus Himself left the glory of heaven to walk in a world filled with sin, pain, and sickness. He spent most of His ministry not in the halls of religious power, but out on the roads, healing the hurting and seeking the lost. He shows us that if we want to follow Him, we must be willing to go where He went: outside the walls.

A Call to Go Beyond the Walls

Before Jesus ascended into heaven, He called us to follow His example: to live outside the walls and bring people to Him.

Our church sign says, "NEHEMIAH BUILT A CITY; WE’RE BUILDING A FAMILY." I wanted to add, "EVERY NAME IS KNOWN & EVERY ONE IS NEEDED," but there wasn’t enough room. But hear this: it is true. Everyone in this church and everyone outside of these walls in our Tri-County area matters to God.

People in Middletown are hungry for Christ. A few weeks ago, I drove around town to introduce myself. I met a lady in the park who had just gotten into her car with her dog. I approached her, introduced myself, and invited her to church. When I asked if she would like a Bible, she said, “Yes.” Before she drove off, she told me, “Thank you. I needed this.”

Shortly after, I drove up to a lady sitting on her porch. We had a conversation yelling across her yard, and I asked if she would like a Bible. She walked out to my truck and mentioned that she had lived in Middletown her whole life but had never even heard of our church. I gave her a Bible with our church information.

I now would like to ask the praise team to come to the stage. As they do, let’s close our eyes and humbly pray that God may help us to both serve our church and go outside of our church as our prayer to build God’s family.

Church, we cannot just stay within these walls. We have a family to build, and there are people out there who need to know their name is known by God and that they are needed in His work. Let us be a people who leave the comfort of the "city" to reach those in the "fields." Let us be the ones who bridge the gap, one Bible and one conversation at a time.