|
Jeremiah 31: 31–34
|
|
Lord, may we hear your voice in the words spoken in your name. Amen.
|
As I write these words, three cold, rainy days have just given way to an
advancing warm front – and all of a sudden, within the last few
minutes, the sun has broken through the clouds, the rain has stopped,
and the winds have died down. Everything that looked grey and cold
and bare all week is suddenly suffused with soft green growth, and all
over the place daffodils and narcissus are bursting into bloom. It
all happened quickly, in the blink of an eye, as the wind blew a bank of
clouds off the face of the sun. And I was astonished.
|
|
But that’s not the only change I’ve seen this
week. Today’s sudden shift in the seasons was matched by
the sudden lifting of Diocesan prohibitions against worship
indoors – a prohibition we have lived with now for over a year,
as we all tried to avoid catching Corona Virus – and giving it to
each other. Now, the long, long winter of our isolation is
finally giving way to the joyful anticipation of getting together again
as the Body of Christ. And here again, the shift was so sudden,
so dramatic, I could hardly believe it. Now my joy, my relief,
knows no bounds.
|
|
So I can appreciate the astonishment, the relief the citizens of Judah
feel when they hear the prophet Jeremiah’s word of comfort to
them, a word he is delivering from the Lord. You see, for years,
these people had known Jeremiah as a prophet of doom, a deliverer of
harsh warnings from the Lord. And now every one of those warnings
has come to pass. Jerusalem is in ruins. Its king and his
nobles have all been exiled to Babylon. The Temple has been
violated; and with that violation, it’s as though these
people have lost the last hope they had. And it’s all
because they had ignored Jeremiah’s warnings. You see, the
people of Judah knew God’s commands. They had read the
scrolls. But they also knew they were God’s chosen
people – and somehow they convinced themselves that this
privileged status excused them from keeping God’s commands.
|
So, no wonder, when Jeremiah reappears in their midst, the people of
Jerusalem avoid him. They don’t want to hear what they think
will be an “I told you so,” message. But to their
surprise, to their amazement, that’s not the message Jeremiah is
delivering. Instead, speaking for God, he has a message of hope
for them.
The days are surely coming when I will make a new covenant with the
house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the
covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand
to bring them out of the land of Egypt — a covenant that they
broke, though I was their husband . . .
For this covenant, Jeremiah promises, will not be one the people can
forget, like some ancient scroll left abandoned and forgotten in some
dusty corner of the Temple. Instead, this new covenant will be
written on the flesh of their hearts in a place they cannot
forget. Once again, they will be God’s own beloved
people. He will be their God. And hope will be
restored. Jeremiah’s word to the people is as sudden and
welcome as last week’s sunshine was to me.
|
|
What astonishes me about this passage is what astonished the people in
Jerusalem. When they were expecting God’s
anger – knowing full well they deserved it — God offered
instead love, hope, forgiveness. Long ago, at Sinai, he had given them
a law of love, a series of guidelines to teach them how to
live — in love with him and with each other. And he
hasn’t broken faith with them, hasn’t failed them ever
since. No — the shoe was on the other foot. The people
had failed him – time and time again — by disregarding
that covenant. But the good news is that he still loves them and
wants them to draw near. He is still willing to forgive
them. In other words, against all odds, Almighty God is making the
first move towards them – in vulnerability and love —
so they can all be in relationship again. He cares that much for
them.
|
|
Vulnerability isn’t a word we use very often when we are talking
about Almighty God. Most of the time we think of God as
all–powerful, all–seeing and everywhere at once. But
vulnerability is about our weak places, the soft places where we can be
hurt. We see God as vulnerable when he is born as a baby in a
stable at Christmastime. And we recognize His vulnerability when
his parents are forced to flee to Egypt, to escape Herod’s vicious
wrath. Next week, Holy Week, we will see God’s vulnerability
again as Jesus gives his life in love for us. But here, in the Old
Testament book of the fierce prophet Jeremiah, the vulnerability of God
is completely unexpected. And yet we see it in that poignant image
of a husband, taking his bride’s hand as they leave the church
after their wedding – only to hear a few lines later that the
marriage has fallen apart. But here in this passage the God who
has been wounded, hurt, by his people’s rejection is reaching out
his hand to them again.
|
|
So how does he do it? How does he finally reach
them? In God’s ingenious alchemy, he does it through
their own woundedness, their own vulnerabilities. When the prophet
Jeremiah brings God’s fresh word to the people of Jerusalem, he is
speaking to a people who are dejected, ashamed, almost
hopeless. They know what they have done. They know they are
no longer worthy to be called the Children of God. But
it’s right there, at their lowest point, that they can receive
fresh hope.
|
|
I am reminded of a story I heard a few years ago from a colleague of
mine, a priest who was just beginning to participate in a prison
ministry. He had never done prison ministry, and was nervous to go
to the brand new county prison, all ringed around with razor
wire. But one of his parishioners, who had been involved with this
ministry for years, volunteered to take him there.
|
|
Once they had entered this bastion of broken lives, and heard the doors
clang shut behind them, the priest said his nervousness
increased. But his friend simply guided him to a large cafeteria,
where the prisoners, all dressed in orange, were sitting at long
tables. “There’s nothing to it,” he
said. “You just find a table, introduce yourself, read a
scripture, talk about it, and pray with them.”
|
My friend, whom I will call John, spied a young man who looked innocent
enough, wearing horn–rimmed glasses at a nearby table. He
went over and sat down.
“Hi,” he said. “My name’s John.
What’s yours?”
“My name’s Michael” the young man said.
“This is my first time here,” John offered, “and
I’m a little nervous.“
“This is my first time down here too,” the young prisoner
replied.
And then John did something he would later learn was not such a good
idea. He asked the young man what he had done that brought him to
this place. There was an uncomfortable silence. But finally,
without looking up, the young prisoner replied.
“I killed my father.”
John couldn’t think what to say. He stammered, “Was
he abusive?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Michael replied.¹
They sat there for a minute or two that John later said felt like an
hour. He was just so shocked by what he had heard he
couldn’t think what to say. So it was the young man in the
orange jumpsuit who finally broke the silence. Pointing to
John’s Bible, he said, “Is there anything in there that can
help me?”
|
|
I don’t know exactly what John said. But in that moment, as
we all heard the story, we knew what we would have said. We would
have told the young man that we all have done things we
regretted – profoundly. Things that have broken God’s
heart. But our God never gives up on us. He knows what it
is to be wounded and vulnerable. And he knows the power of
forgiveness. Somehow, in some way, he finds a way to let his
love and mercy shine though our brokenness.
|
|
It is healing that reaches our hearts. And against all odds,
relationship is restored.
|
Amen.
|
|
¹ “Breaking News!” The Reverend Donovan
Drake (Sermon delivered to Westminster Presbyterian Church,
Nashville, Tn., March 29, 2009)
|
Jeremiah 31: 31–34
The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new
covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will
not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took
them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt–a covenant
that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But
this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after
those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will
write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be
my people No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each
other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the
least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their
iniquity, and remember their sin no more.
|
