4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” 8 Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you. Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have. 9 They are prophesying lies to you in my name. I have not sent them,” declares the Lord.
10 This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
This was no fantasy; no Oscar winning drama or moral fable.
It was a real-life tragedy. The year was 597 B.C. The disaster was excruciating
– death, destruction, and unfathomable suffering as Jerusalem was conquered by
the Babylonians. Uprooted from the place in which they were born and the land
that had been promised to them, the Israelites were forced to travel across the
Middle Eastern desert 700 miles. In the new land of Babylon, customs were
strange, the language incomprehensible, and the landscape oddly flat and
featureless. Shortly thereafter, two men
from Jerusalem appeared unannounced in the court of Nebuchadnezzar on official
business carrying a message to the king. On their way to the palace they
visited the displaced refugees. The air was charged with excitement. Everyone
had questions and hopes of rescue or escape. The two messengers Elasah and
Gemariah waved them silent. Before giving them the gossip and news from home,
they had a message from Jeremiah, the prophet, a Word of God for those who
found themselves suffering as strangers in a strange land.
1.
4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel,
says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: When suffering comes remember God’s name
and yours.
Remember God’s name. It’s not “One who can do nothing” or
“The Lord who Aches to Make People Suffer” but the “Lord Almighty who carried”.
And the people are not “Those who should suck it up and shut up”, “Ones who
keep a stiff upper lip”, or the “People of we’re fine, no worries,” or other
false niceties that we tell each other in church. No, we are “Israel” – a name that continually
electrified the community by its brashness, its invitation to action. “Israel” means
“One who wrestles or struggles with God”.
The exile experienced by the Hebrews is a dramatic instance
of what we all experience simply by being alive in this world. Repeatedly, we
find ourselves in circumstances where we are not at home. Life is ripped out of
the familiar. The essential meaning of exile is that we are where we don’t want
to be: Displaced. Illness. Accident. Job loss. Divorce. Suffering & Death.
The reality of our lives is rearranged without anyone consulting us or waiting
for our permission.
When this happens? Remember your name. “God wrestler.”
Living into our name is a reminder – a permission – to be
both honest and present in our pain. Whatever murkiness might obscure God’s role
in a suffering community, a troubled heart, a broken world, it can never be a
Biblical response to simply say, “God is in control so be quiet and deal with
it.” This may be one of the most amazing elements of the Biblical tradition –
God will listen to, receive, and accept our painful grief, even that which
calls him to account. More than that, God will make such grief God’s own Word. And
friends, let’s take God at his word and be honest at this time and in this place:
exile sucks. What does exile sound like?
Psalm 137
1 By the rivers of Babylon we
sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
2 There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
3 for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
when we remembered Zion.
2 There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
3 for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How can we sing the songs of
the Lord
while in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
6 May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
while in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
6 May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
7 Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
8 Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
9 Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
8 Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
9 Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.
Remembering names, both God’s and are own, is what will help
us make a proper confession amidst real pain. A proper lament and Biblical
confession is when we speak both honestly and truthfully. Our name reminds us that we can be honest in our confession about our feelings and discouragements, even with God. God's name reminds us that there is a truth beyond how we feel and what we can necessarily see. Nevertheless, the refusal to accept the harshness of suffering is an encouraged
response forever enshrined in Israel’s own name and relationship with God.
2.
5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat
what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters . . . seek the
peace and prosperity of the city. . . Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” When suffering comes,
God wants us to make ourselves at home.
Now is when we get into a difficult situation when it comes
to suffering, one of the more dangerous elements that can have grave
consequences creating real damage and heartache. I’m not talking about
suffering itself. I’m talking about advice from those who wish to help. So
there are a few things that I would like to say before we return to our
passage. First, there is no one kind of suffering or pain nor one kind of
sufferer. We all encounter and experience suffering differently. We all have
deeply personal stories. Second, the Bible is not a prescription for suffering
but rather a pharmacy filled with all kinds of prescriptions. We all understand
that it would be silly to use an antibiotic for a virus and in fact it might
even be harmful making someone even more sick. There is no one pill cure. Finally,
neither I nor Ian are the doctor and neither are you. If we occupy any role it’s
as pharmacists – I don’t diagnose the patient, write the prescription, or
perform delicate operations – I dispense medications, am knowledgeable about
how different medicines interact and what side effects they have but I do not
stand between a doctor and her patient and neither should you. That would be
malpractice. In other words, friends, only God knows what to prescribe.
So what follows in one of God’s prescriptions among many to
those who are suffering. This text was written at a particular time and in
particular circumstances. It very well may be God’s prescription for you. But
if not, don’t worry. There are other really good medicines that we will discuss
in this series. And now let’s return.
God says: Build houses
and settle down. God says to the Israelites, you are not camping nor in
prison. Don’t try to run or escape. This is the place you find yourself in –
settle down. This is certainly not your favorite place, but it is a place where
I can work and you can thrive. You are more than a victim – you are also a
builder. Create space for yourself – fill it with beauty and presence and
dreams and rest. Be at home.
God says: Plant
gardens and eat what they produce. Enter into the seasons and be sure to
get enough to eat. Get some Babylonian recipes and cook them and share some of
your own. Establish rhythms and take care of yourself. Attend to the needs of
your body.
God says: Marry and
have sons and daughters. Connect yourself to others. Reach out to others
and grow your families. Listen to the stories of friends and share your own. Build
relationships and communities of care and love. Those in the middle of
suffering who cut themselves off from family and friends suffer twice.
The temptation is to escapism; to not live in the reality we
find ourselves, to look to the future, the far away, as the answer to our hope.
Jeremiah wants to remind the Israelites that redemption is not an escape plan
but God’s plan for transformation in the here and now.
It’s helpful to remember that God himself followed this
prescription. God in Jesus Christ lived in the real world, wrestled with pain,
held onto truth, created beauty, and acted out love. And Hebrews 5:8 reminds us
that the son learned “by what he suffered.”
3 . For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. God isn’t simply a real estate agent moving us from one home to the next. God is our home.
God’s project is not heaven, it’s heave on earth. It’s Jerusalem
and Babylon as one. God is architect, contractor, day laborer, front door,
comfy couch, and live-in room mate. And Friends – God is all these things, even
in Babylon. I shared with many of you the poem by Mary Oliver, “Someone I loved
once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this,
too, was a gift.”God may not necessarily be the giver of this box but God can
and does turn such boxes into gifts.
God is a practitioner of the Japanese art
of Kintsukori or “golden repair” in
which broken poetry is repaired with gold dust mixed with lacquer. In such a
practice, the scar becomes the thing of beauty, the place that one longs to
see.
Darkness can be a gift because God is there. God is the gift.
Friends, God courageously invites us to respond to him
amidst painful realities and terrible circumstances. But that invitation should
never obscure the reality that it is God himself who is at work, God himself
who is our peace, God himself who is powerful and patient enough to take our
broken pieces and turn them into a work of art. In the hands of the Great Physician,
the greatest places of beauty are often the scars. Even in exile, we worship
the Lord Almighty who carries us.
