The Names That Matter Most

If you have a Bible, open it with me to Ezra chapter 2. Without this Word, I'm hopeless as a pastor. And without this Word, we're hopeless as a church. But before we get into Ezra 2, let me show you this rock… isn't it pretty? I was hiking at the Garden of the Gods yesterday and came across this rock.

And I just stopped. Look at all these names carved into the stone. Layer upon layer. Some from decades ago, fading into the red rock. Some fresh, probably carved last summer. "EB + VM." "Taylor." "Jason." "HG." And there was also a place where it seems something rubbed against it. Like someone was trying to erase a large section. Like someone wanted to undo what was written there. And I just stood there wondering—what were their stories?

What was going on in their hearts when they carved these names? Was EB still with VM? Did Taylor come here with friends or alone? Was Jason trying to prove something, maybe to friends or to a girl… you know, guys do that sort of thing? And then we can ask… why—why do we do this? Why do people carve their names into rocks and trees and bathroom stalls? Especially bathroom stalls…

like who goes to a public bathroom with a sharpie… am I missing something? But then, I ask… What is it about the human heart that needs to leave a mark somewhere that says, "I was here. My name counts. I existed.” And so I stood there yesterday looking at that rock and I thought about Ezra chapter 2. 33 verses of names carved into Scripture. Names that mattered to God.

And I wondered—standing there on that trail with all these carved names around me—I wondered: Is my name on the list that really matters? Not carved in Colorado sandstone. But written in the Lamb's Book of Life. Now I know what you're thinking. Because I think it too. You flip to Ezra 2 and you see 33 verses of names and numbers and your eyes glaze over. Pastor, can we just skip this part?

But what if I told you that this boring genealogy is actually about the most important question you'll ever answer in your entire life: What do you treasure most? What are you living for? What would you leave everything behind for? Because that's what I want you to feel with me right now. Close your eyes. I want you to feel something. You're standing in a crowd. Thousands of people. Babylon.

538 BC. You've lived your whole life here. This is all you've ever known. Your grandparents told you stories about Jerusalem—a city you've never seen. Stories about the temple where God dwelt. But that's ancient history. You're comfortable here in Babylon. You have a job. A house. Friends. This is home. Then one day everything changes. King Cyrus makes a decree: "Whoever wants to return to Jerusalem—go. Rebuild the temple." And suddenly you have a choice.

Stay in Babylon where life is comfortable, familiar, safe? Or leave everything for a city you've never seen, to worship a God you've only heard about in your grandparents' stories. How many conversations around bread at the family table must have happened. Do we go? Does our lineage even give us the right? What about our kids? They were born here. What about our business? The house we've built? What if Jerusalem is just rubble and dust?

And underneath all those practical questions—the real question burning in every heart: Is God worth it? Is worshiping in His presence worth leaving everything we know? And someone unrolls a scroll and starts reading: "The sons of Parosh, 2,172." And across the crowd—I want you to feel this—chaos. Families weeping. Embracing. Running to pack their bags. Because their name is on the list. They're going home. "The sons of Shephatiah, 372." More families celebrating.

Saying goodbye to everything they've known. "The sons of Arah, 775." And you're standing there. Heart pounding in your chest. And you have to decide—right there in that moment—Is God worth leaving everything for? Is He the treasure? Or is Babylon? Can you feel that? That moment when you realize—what I treasure most will determine everything about my life. That's what this sermon is about. Not just getting your name in a book.

But discovering the treasure that makes you willing to leave Babylon behind. Father, open our eyes. Show us Your beauty. Show us Your worth. Help us treasure Christ above everything else. In Jesus' name, amen. THE LIST Open your Bibles to Ezra 2, verse 2. "They came with Zerubbabel, Jeshua, Nehemiah... the sons of Parosh, 2,172. The sons of Shephatiah, 372. The sons of Arah, 775..." And it just goes on.

Verse after verse. Name after name. Number after number. 42,360 names total. "Pastor, why? Why did God put 33 verses of names in the Bible?" Here's why. Because every single one of these numbers represents people who left everything for God. 2,172 people who said, "God is worth more than Babylon." These weren't heroes with seminary degrees. These were regular people. Farmers. Bakers. Shopkeepers. People who woke up tired and distracted just like you and me.

People who had to choose—every single day—what they were going to treasure most. These families had been in exile for 70 years. Why? Because their ancestors chose sin over God. They chose idols over worship. They earned exile. They deserved judgment. But now God says, "Come home." Not because they deserved it. But because God made a promise. This is a grace list. Every name represents God's faithfulness to bring His people home.

And this haunts me. Because I know I don't deserve to be on any list. If God kept a record of the moments I've chosen comfort over Christ, of the times I've traded His presence for lesser pleasures, of the mornings I've reached for my phone before I've reached for Him—I wouldn't make the cut. Maybe you feel that too. Maybe you're thinking, "If God really knew me—the thoughts I have, the things I've done in secret, the ways I've drifted—He wouldn't want me." And you're right.

None of us deserve it. That's why every name on this list makes my heart leap. Because it means God keeps His promises even when we don't keep ours. THE PATTERN These 42,360 people left Babylon. They returned to Jerusalem. They rebuilt the temple. Why? Because God's presence was their treasure. They didn't just want to escape exile. They wanted to be near God. God Himself. And that pattern is pointing us forward to something greater.

Turn to Revelation 21:27: "Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life." Do you see the pattern? Ezra 2: Your name on the list means you go to Jerusalem to be near God. Revelation 21: Your name in the Book of Life means you enter the New Jerusalem to dwell with God forever.

God is the destination. Not just a place. Not just blessings. God Himself. Now look to Revelation 20:15. "And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire." There's a list right now. The Lamb's Book of Life. And your name is either in that book or it's not. It terrifies me when I think about people I love. People sitting in this room.

And it comforts me when I remember that my hope isn't in whether I've been good enough. My hope is in whether God has been gracious enough. So here's the question: How do you get your name in the Lamb's Book of Life? In Ezra, your family line mattered. But that's not how the Book of Life works. Jesus told religious leaders proud of their family line, "You belong to your father, the devil." Being born into a Christian family doesn't do it.

Growing up in church doesn't do it. I grew up in church—that doesn't save you. And you can't earn it. Titus 3:5 says, "He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but according to his own mercy." That's the gospel. That's grace. So how do names get written? Everything hinges on this: "the book of life of the Lamb who was slain." The Lamb. But not just any lamb, but the one who must give up His life.

And why does everything depend on Him? THE WEEPING Turn to Revelation 5. I need to show you something that's going to break your heart first. And then heal it. John has a vision. He's in heaven. In the presence of God. And he sees a scroll in God's hand. Sealed with seven seals. This scroll contains God's plan for the future. The triumph of the gospel. The judgment of evil.

The consummation of all things. Everything is written on this scroll. And it's sealed. Nobody can open it. An angel proclaims with a loud voice, "Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?" Who is worthy? Who has the right to bring history to its end? Verse 3 says—and I want you to feel the weight of this—"And no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll or to look into it." No one.

Not the angels. Not Moses. Not David. Not Abraham. Nobody. There's this scroll sitting there in God's hand with everything written on it and nobody can touch it. Now look at verse 4. "And I began to weep loudly because no one was found worthy to open the scroll or to look into it." John starts weeping. This is John. The disciple Jesus loved. The one who walked with Christ for three years.

Who saw Him heal the sick and raise the dead. Who was at the transfiguration. Who leaned against Jesus at the Last Supper. John knows Jesus is the Messiah. He watched Him die on the cross. He saw the empty tomb. He knows Jesus rose from the dead. So why is he weeping? Because John understands something in this moment. He sees this scroll with everything written on it. The future.

The triumph of good over evil. The end of death. And he realizes—if no one can open it, then history has no ending. If no one is worthy, then everything Jesus accomplished on the cross doesn't reach its fulfillment. The curse remains. Evil continues. Death keeps winning. We stay in exile forever. Have you ever felt that? Even as a believer? Where you know Jesus is real, you know He's alive, you know He saved you—but you look at the brokenness of this world and you wonder, "When does this end?

When does evil finally lose? When does death stop taking people I love?" That's what John is feeling. The grief of living in the gap between the resurrection and the consummation. And I think about this moment a lot. Because I think about the people I love. People in this room. People in my family. And I wonder—are their names in the book? And it terrifies me. Notice this. There's weeping in heaven.

John is weeping in the presence of God. You know one of the most beautiful promises in Scripture? Its in Revelation 21:4 says God "will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore." We love that verse. But think about the context. When does God wipe away every tear? Right after Revelation 20. The final judgment.

"And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire." That hits me hard.. because think of this… there are people in heaven right now, weeping. I mean, maybe im wrong… but thats how I am seeing this… John was weeping because no one was worthy to open the scroll, and then in the end of revelation, theres going to be weeping because people we love, and even our enemies.

Do you really think, that those who have harmed you, or done you wrong, won’t touch your heart when you see them be casted away from Gods presence. We are a culture driven by judgment, and being what’s due and we rejoice when we see people we say we hate get what they deserve, but where’s the love your enemies in all of that? We’ll be standing there, watching people who have rejected the gospel…

but we will also see within that line of people, people we’ve known and loved when have also rejected the gospel. Before God wipes away every tear, there are tears to wipe away. And part of what causes those tears is the reality that there are people whose names are not in the book. People we know. People we love. This is why your response to Jesus today is the most important decision you will ever make.

And let me be clear. It's not just your response right now in this moment. It's your response to His leading all the days of your life. Every day. Every morning. Every hour. Because I think about how easily my mind and heart are swooned by this earth. By things that have no spiritual weight. By comfort. By success. By approval. By a thousand little gods that promise satisfaction but leave me thirsty.

And I wonder how many mornings I wake up and forget—I just completely forget—that I'm an exile. How many days I live like Babylon is all there is. And I have to come back to Jesus. Every single day. I have to put my lips to the fountain again. Because I forget. I drift. I wander. THE LAMB But then—and this is where your heart starts to heal—back in Revelation 5, verse 5, one of the elders says to John: "Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals." Weep no more.

Stop weeping. And John looks. And what does he see? "And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain." A Lamb. Slain. But standing. This is Jesus. The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Slain on a Roman cross 2,000 years ago. And He's standing there in heaven—alive, triumphant, worthy. And then heaven erupts.

"Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation." "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!" When I read about heaven erupting in worship of the Lamb—my heart leaps. Because everything depends on Him.

Not on me. Not on my performance. Not on whether I've been good enough or faithful enough. It depends on the Lamb. On what He did. On His blood. On His worthiness. And that's the only reason I have any hope. If it depended on me, I'd be lost. But it depends on Him. Before the foundation of the world—before anything was created—God determined that salvation would come through the blood of the Lamb.

And this salvation was planned for all. For everyone. John 3:16: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." The world. Not just some people. The world. And don't miss what eternal life actually is. John 17:3: "And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent." Eternal life is knowing God.

Relationship with Jesus. Being brought into fellowship with the Father through the Son. That's what the Lamb was slain to give you. Not just a ticket to heaven. Heaven is Jesus. Knowing Him. Being with Him. Dwelling with Him forever. and I love how God describes His pursuit of us. Hosea 2:14 says, "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her." So good….

Men, if you ever want to truly be romantic to your wife… here it is… Allure her.. not to trick her, but to speak sweet tenderness into her ear, and let her heart melt with love, let the scent of your kindness, and gentleness, and care be what she is drawn to… Show her what the aroma of Christ is like in your godly relationship. That’s the picture love. God allures.

He doesn't force. He doesn't manipulate. He doesn't trick. He sweetly, tenderly, graciously draws every human heart to Himself. He speaks to the wilderness of your soul with words of love. He pursues you with His prevenient grace—that grace that goes before, that awakens your heart, that enables you to respond. And then my heart leaps for joy when I think this… Before the foundation of the world, God, in His perfect knowledge and loving purpose, knew those who would respond to His gracious call.

Not because He forced belief, and not because faith itself earned salvation, but because His grace would go before, awaken the heart, and invite a response. Scripture tells us that believers are "elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father" (1 Peter 1:1-2). God's choosing is rooted in His gracious initiative and His foreknowledge of faith freely given in response to grace. God looked down through time and saw the moment when you would hear His tender voice.

He saw the moment when His Spirit would allure you. He saw the moment when you would respond to His love. And based on that foreknowledge of your faith, your name was written in the Lamb's Book of Life. That’s the beauty of God’s grace. It’s offered to all. It’s available to all. Scripture tells us God is “not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

Every person in this room has been pursued by God’s grace. Every life has been touched by His invitation. The Spirit of God draws, awakens, convicts, and calls—tenderly, patiently, faithfully. But theres a question looming in your heart right now… and lets ask it… The question is not whether God has reached out. The question is: will you respond? Will you believe? Will you say yes to Jesus? Will you walk by faith, each day, each moment, Because when you do—when you place your faith in the Lamb who was slain—your life becomes joined to His.

Your name is written in His book. THE INVITATION How do you get your name in the Lamb's Book of Life? John 7:37: "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink." Faith in Jesus—real faith—isn't grim religious duty. It's not checking a theological box. Faith is receiving Jesus. It's like drinking living water when you're desperately thirsty. It's your soul's movement toward Christ. With your heart. With your longings.

With your deepest thirst for something more than this broken world can give you. Right now the Spirit of God is pursuing you. He's been drawing you your whole life. Do you feel it? That restlessness deep inside? That ache that nothing in this world quite satisfies? That sense that there must be something more? That's thirst. Soul thirst. And Jesus says, "Come to me and drink." Can I tell you what thirst feels like?

It feels like waking up successful and empty. Like achieving everything you thought you wanted and still feeling hollow. Like scrolling through your phone at 11 PM hoping to find something that will satisfy the ache. Like looking at your life from the outside and thinking it's good, but knowing deep down that something's missing. That's thirst. Every single person in this room knows exactly what I'm talking about. You know that ache.

I know it. I feel it when I try to find my satisfaction in anything other than Jesus. And Jesus says that's not an accident. That's your soul crying out for the only thing that can truly satisfy. Him. Romans 10:13: "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." Revelation 22:17: "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come.' And let the one who hears say, 'Come.' And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price." Do you hear that invitation?

Come. You don't have to clean yourself up first. You don't have to figure everything out. You don't have to be worthy. You just have to be thirsty. And you are. Your soul is dying of thirst, and Jesus is offering you living water. Himself. If you've never trusted Jesus Christ as your Savior—if you've never drunk from this living water—I'm asking you to come. Right now. In your heart. Right where you're sitting.

Call on His name. Come. Drink. Receive Him. Trust that He died for your sins and rose again to give you eternal life. And here's the beautiful mystery—when you put your lips to that fountain and taste and see that the Lord is good, you'll discover something astonishing. You'll look back through the corridors of eternity and see that God's love for you reaches back before the foundation of the world.

That the Lamb was slain for you in the mind of God before time began. That your name was written in His book before you ever took your first breath. But right now, the question isn't "Is my name in that book?" The question is: Are you thirsty? Will you drink? Will you come to Jesus? This determines your eternity. THE CALL So as the worship team comes up…. Theres Two lists.

& Two questions. The first list: Ezra 2. 42,360 names. Because their names were on that list, they got to go home. The second list: The Lamb's Book of Life. This list determines who enters the New Jerusalem. How do you know if your name is in that book? Because if your name is in that book, you will rise from the dead. You will receive a glorified body. You will dwell with God forever.

You can be the most radical human being in the world because your death problem is over. My answer is this: The marks of the person whose name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life are simple. You're drinking from Jesus. You're receiving Him as your treasure. You're coming to Him constantly. You're not putting down the cup. Let me tell you what that looks like in my life. Some mornings I wake up and I've already put the cup down.

The first thing I do is check my phone. I Check my email. Check the news. I check my bank account…. And I realize—I haven't even thought about Jesus yet. I haven't put my lips to the fountain. I'm trying to drink from broken cisterns that can't hold water. And I have to come back. I have to say, "Jesus, I'm thirsty again. I need You again. I can't make it through this day without drinking from You." That's what it means to keep drinking.

Every day—every hour—coming back to Him. If you've never come to Christ—if you've never drunk from the living water—come now. While there's time. While the invitation is still open. Call on His name. Receive Him as your treasure. And discover you were loved before time began. And for those of us who know Christ—let this change how we live today. We don't stop drinking. We don't put down the cup. Believing is receiving constantly.

Coming to Jesus constantly. Christ is ever giving Himself as drink and food for our souls. We're not settlers here. We're exiles heading home. We're not building our kingdom. We're citizens of the New Jerusalem. We're not chasing comfort. We're treasuring Christ. When we struggle—when finances are tight, when bodies break down, when loved ones suffer—we remember: Our names are in the Book of Life. We're getting glorified bodies. We're inheriting a new creation.

We're going to dwell with God forever. So let's be faithful. Let's keep building. Let's keep trusting. Let's keep drinking from Jesus, the living water. Let's keep treasuring Christ above all. Because our names are written in His book. And we're going home. But I don't want you to hear this sermon and then walk out of here unchanged. I don't want this to be another Sunday where you heard some good preaching and then went back to life as usual.

Because if your name is in that book—if you're drinking from Jesus—everything changes. The way you spend your money changes. The way you treat your spouse changes. The way you scroll on your phone changes. The way you respond to suffering changes. Because you're not living for this world anymore. You're living for the New Jerusalem. You're living like an exile who knows they're going home. Father, thank You for Your Word.

Thank You that names matter to You. Thank You that You're bringing us home—to the New Jerusalem, to dwell with You forever. For those who are thirsty right now—for those who haven't yet come to drink from the living water—draw them to Yourself. Help them see the beauty of the Lamb. Give them the courage to come. To drink. To receive Jesus. Right now. In this moment. And for those of us who know You—help us live as exiles heading home.

Help us keep our lips to the fountain. Help us treasure You above all. Help us never stop drinking from the water of life. In Jesus' name, amen. *