Jeremiah
32:1-15
The English poet Lord Byron, writing to
Thomas Moore remarked, “What is hope?
Nothing but the paint on the face of existence; the least touch of truth
rubs it off, and then we see what a hallowed-cheek harlot we have hold
of.” I shall presume your very presence
here today is a repudiation of Byron’s pessimism. For it is hope which claims us, hope which
sustains us and hope which allows us to look beyond the reality of the moment
and profess the conviction of our faith.
In one of my favorite hymns Jane Parker Huber writes, “Live into hope of
captives freed, from chains of fear or want or greed. God now proclaims our full release, to faith,
and hope, and joy and peace.”
Lest you mistake me for some wide-eyed
Pollyanna, let me confess it takes a great deal of faith to live into
hope. When I reflect on the
conversations I have had with many of you during the past weeks, I am well
aware of how we can easily be captured by the uncertainties of life. As I mentioned last week we live in a time
when fear and uncertainty paint a dreary backdrop across the canvass of our
lives. We yearn to blissfully sing Jane
Huber’s anthem but it is hard to dismiss the reservations found in Lord Byron’s
voice.
When I lived in Clinton, many mornings around 6:45 my dear
friend Bill Scott and I could be found peddling our bikes along some lonesome
highway. I have met very few folks who can
equal Bill’s optimism for life. By 7:00
a.m. I was praying, head bowed, that God would let the sun come up just a few moments
earlier. Bill was looking into the
heavens, remarking on how beautiful Venus appeared. As we were simultaneously praying and gazing
one of those large trucks that transport hogs would fly past us doing every bit
of 70 mph. Bill, the optimist, would joyfully
remark, “I bet when those truckers see our blinking lights they wish they were
riding with us enjoying this crisp morning air.” The Lord Byron in me thought,
“Our blinking lights just give those trucks something to aim at.”
As
much as we want to live into hope, life often comes barreling down upon us, and
sometimes it doesn’t miss, making us little more than a hood ornament.
In our Old Testament lesson, Jeremiah
found himself about to be run over by something a great deal larger than a
truck. Jeremiah and everyone he knew were
about to experience the cruel and swift reality of the Babylonian Empire. For more than a month the most powerful army
in the world sat outside the walls of Jerusalem. The capital was completely surrounded and Babylon was not in a negotiating
mood. Their mission was to destroy Jerusalem, tear down the Temple, enslave those who could offer ransom
for their lives and exterminate everyone else.
There would be no terms of surrender.
There would be no miracles.
Within days, the Palace of David and the Temple of Solomon
would become a memory. What made it
worse was everyone in Jerusalem
understood their fate, especially Jeremiah.
God had earlier spoken to the prophet and said, “My people have
forgotten me. They burn offerings to a
delusion. They have stumbled in their
ways and gone into bypaths, making their land a horror. I shall scatter them before them enemy. I will show them my back, not my face, in the
day of their calamity.” As the army of Babylon gathered for its
final assault, Jeremiah had no illusions concerning what was to about to
happen. The prophet understood the
reality of the moment. And yet, in one
of the most amazing stories in the Bible, Jeremiah illustrated what it means to
live into hope.
Jeremiah’s cousin owned a piece of
land. One does not have to be a tax
assessor to figure out how much that property was worth. Yet Jeremiah agreed to
pay his cousin full price. Why would
Jeremiah make such a foolish investment?
The answer becomes clear when Jeremiah presented the deed for the land
to Baruch. He instructed his friend to
seal the proof of purchase in an earthenware jar, so that in the future, when
the jar was recovered, people would know that someone had believed that God would
restore the fields and vineyards of Israel. Jeremiah invested in God’s promised future. In this historically documented moment hours
before certain death, Jeremiah chose to live into hope. What did Jeremiah remember, what did he
believe that would cause him to act in such a preposterous manner? Jeremiah
based his decision on his faith in Yahweh’s covenant with Abraham. “They shall
be my people and I will be their God.”
Jeremiah did not believe Jerusalem would
be rescued in his lifetime but he believed the children of Jerusalem would eventually be given the
opportunity of new life. Jeremiah believed the children of Jerusalem,
much like their ancestors in Egypt,
would cry out to the Lord. Jeremiah
believed God would hear their cries, rescue them from Babylon,
and bring them back to Jerusalem. Jeremiah placed his hope in the memory of a
God who would not forget his ancient covenant.
Jeremiah placed his faith in the fidelity of a God who always responds
despite the sins of his people. It did
not matter to Jeremiah that he would not see this restoration. Jeremiah believed one day his children would
experience the resurrection of Zion.
How might we embody the faith of this
courageous prophet? It is no easy task
in these perilous days in which we live. The two most important days on the
Christian calendar are Good Friday and Easter.
Good Friday is the moment when the sins of the world collectively and
individually hung the symbol of innocence on a tree and dared the world to gaze
upon his defeat. On Sunday, humanity awoke
to the astounding news that sin has no claim on God’s imagination. What was dead was alive. What was stained was cleansed. The power that sin envisioned on Friday
disappeared with one holy thought. Now
we who claim Christ sing triumphantly that evil no longer has dominion over our
lives. Each of us believes this to be true or we would not have gathered here
in this holy space. But having affirmed
the power of the resurrection, do you sometimes feel like Jeremiah? Some days does it seem Babylon is about ready to run you over? Do
you feel you are living your life on the Saturday between Good Friday and
Easter? We believe in the power of the
cross. We cling to the promise of the
empty tomb. Yet some days it feels as if
we are living between the promise and the fulfillment of God’s triumph. Am I the only one who sometimes wonders when
God will step back into history? Am I
the only one who sometimes wonders what tomorrow might bring?
I remember sitting in my office in San Angelo Texas
one afternoon in the middle of the summer. A couple of church members and I had
spent the morning at City Hall arguing that folks who lived in the city limits
and paid city taxes ought to have the benefit of city water. Our pleas had
pretty much fallen on deaf ears. I sat in my office, both wondering if our
efforts had done more harm than good and feeling sorry for myself. Beatrice
Torres, an elder at St. Paul,
and the person who had brought this inequality to our attention walked into my
office. In my anger, I asked, “How can we change the minds of folks who refuse
to see the problem? I am about to give up hope.”
Beatrice
looked At me and said, “La esperanza muere ultima”. Translated that means, “Hope
dies last.” Then she placed an empty
water bucket on my desk and said, “Let’s go carry some water.”
As
long as there are folks like Jeremiah, as long as there are folks like
Beatrice, as long as there are folks like you who believe and act on God’s promise,
hope lives. And where there is hope, there is life. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment