Not Just Another Brick In The Wall

Have you ever been so bored in a class at school that you counted the dots in the ceiling tile to stay awake? Have you ever tied knots in the hymnal ribbon or tried to see how many songs could be sung to the tune of Gilligan’s Island because the sermon was so intolerably boring? (Amazing Grace, There is a Place of Quiet Rest, How Sweet How Heavenly & How Shall the Young, to name a few). Some things are just dull. Income tax forms. Policy manuals. Parts of the Bible.

You read that right. Even for a life-long, Bible-believing, God-fearing follower of Jesus, there are parts of the Bible that are exceedingly, excruciatingly monotonous.

Can’t sleep? Forget Ambien or Advil PM. Read the infectious skin disease and mildew regulations in Leviticus 13. Better yet, try the genealogical records from Adam to Ziza in 1st Chronicles 1 – 4. Or you can read Nehemiah 3. Here’s how it starts:

Eliashib the high priest and his fellow priests went to work and rebuilt the Sheep Gate. They dedicated it and set its doors in place, building as far as the Tower of the Hundred, which they dedicated, and as far as the Tower of Hananel. The men of Jericho built the adjoining section, and Zaccur son if Imri built next to them.

It goes on like that for 32 verses. It’s full of impossible-to-pronounce names and everyone in the chapter is doing exactly the same thing — stacking bricks. The only thing more tedious that doing repetitive work is reading about people doing repetitive work.

But boring is not the same thing as unimportant. Tax regulations, actuarial reports, mortgage contracts and legal disclaimers are all terminally tiresome but terribly important. Reading a passage like Nehemiah 3 is sort of like standing in line at the tag office; it’s not the most exciting way to spend your time, but as you look around, you get the feeling that there are a lot of interesting stories in the room. And in Nehemiah 3, there are some important lessons.

Everybody Matters

Why do you think Nehemiah went to the trouble to write down — by hand — the names of everyone working on the wall? Ninety-five people by name, tribe, town and the part of the wall they worked. He knew something that leaders sometimes forget; people want to be more than a pair of hands working on a project. We want someone to take a personal interest in us. Meshullam, mentioned in vs. 30, didn’t want to be just another nameless brick-stacker. Meremoth, vs. 21, didn’t want to settle for the monotony of mending the wall while enduring the isolation of anonymity.

I can see Nehemiah walking up to someone and asking, “So, tell me, what’s your name? Where ya’ from? What’s your day-job?” If you’re a leader, and even if you’re not, take a personal interest in the people who serve with you. Everybody matters.

Nobody Works Alone

The most frequently repeated phrase in this long chapter (which is a good thing to look for when reading Scripture), is “next to them (or him).” I suspect that one of the things that enabled these folks to endure all that mind-numbing brick laying was the relationships they were cementing. While the walls around Jerusalem were going up, the walls between these people were coming down. Governors worked next to commoners. Perfume makers worked next to goldsmiths. Priests and people from out of town served shoulder to shoulder.

When you serve with people who care about the things you care about, you not only accomplish something great from the Kingdom of God, you develop relationships that last forever.

There’s Always a Dung Gate

The Dung Gate (vs. 14), was not exactly what it sounds like; the gateway to Jerusalem’s WC, the exit to the outhouse, the passage through which all the chamber pots passed, or the portal to the city’s public restroom.  (I could keep that up for paragraphs, but the editor made me stop.) But it wasn’t a very prestigious assignment. Everything you toss into your garbage can went through the Dung Gate and out of the city to be burned. So too, what was left of the sacrifices from the temple and the waste produced by animals.

Somebody had to repair the Dung Gate. No matter what you’re doing — pursuing a grand business dream, trying to accomplish a Spirit-led ministry, or working to rebuild a relationship, there is always, always, always a Dung Gate. Some task, chore or service that nobody wants to do, but has to be done.

And the guy who worked there? Malkijah, who happened to be the ruler of a nearby district. But he was humble enough to do the dirty work. I’d follow a leader like that. Bet you would, too.