13 October 2019
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7; Psalm 66:1-12; 2
Timothy 2:8-15; Luke 17:11-19
Blessings are funny things. We think we know a
blessing when it lands in our laps only because it happens to be a thing or a
circumstance we desire. The blessing as we know it fits a mold we have
carved out for it, and it suits us. The blessing may be exactly what we
had in mind and what we worked to achieve. There is an old saying,
however, that most of us rarely take to heart though we may be quick to repeat
it: “Be careful what you wish for”.
I doubt anyone would have considered the Babylonian
Exile to have been a blessing at the time, and I doubt many look upon the Exile
now as a good thing on any level. We suppose the Exile had to happen to
punish Judah’s unfaithfulness – and to a degree, that is exactly what
happened.
It may also be said the people of Judah got exactly
what they had wished for, judging by the behavior for which they incurred
Divine wrath: a godless society with no rules, no limits, no restrictions, no sense
of personal duty or social responsibility to others … no Divine Law with “thou
shalt” or “thou shalt not”. Just freedom. Pure, unencumbered
freedom to do and to live as it pleased them.
What they did not know – what we rarely consider even
today – is that unencumbered freedom comes with a heavy price few are willing
to pay. In fact, it may be said the freedom they thought they were
enjoying came with its own chains and shackles – trading a benevolent Master
who commands love for one’s neighbor for a less merciful master with no regard
for neighbor except for perhaps how that neighbor might be of some benefit to
them. They exchanged the merciful God for another “god” –
themselves – and learned the hard way that they were far more dictatorial, far
more rigid, and far less forgiving.
Yet think of the philosophical question: can we
appreciate or even know what is good if we never experience the evil? Can
we appreciate good health if we’ve never experienced illness? Can we
appreciate wealth if we have never experienced poverty? Can we really know
and enjoy freedom if we fail to appreciate the moral and social
responsibilities that come with that freedom? Can we really be strong if
we trample upon the weak?
Apart from the Exile, there may have been no way Judah
(or Israel … or we) could answer these questions. Their religious
leaders, “from prophet to priest, everyone dealing falsely” (vs
13) were being less than honest with them, “treating the wounds of
My people carelessly, preaching peace when there is no
peace” (Jeremiah 6:14).
And it wasn’t as though things just fell apart because
the people had been so careless, so faithless, so greedy for their own personal
gain though that cannot be discounted completely. For the sake of His
Covenant, The Lord decreed that the people of Judah, if they wanted to take
their medicine and live, should submit to the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar (Jeremiah
27:11). In fact, any nation that refused to “put its neck
under the yoke of the king of Babylon, I will punish with the sword, with
famine, and with pestilence, says The Lord, until I have completed its
destruction by [Nebuchadnezzar’s] hand” (Jeremiah 27:8).
Everything the people of Judah once held and cherished
and took for granted as “blessings” would soon be their curse, and they would
have nothing left but the benevolence and will of a Gentile king appointed over
them by Divine decree. Now how can we see a blessing from
any of this? Facing such an external and an internal threat, how would we
not more believe those prophets who were judged as “liars” who
were telling the people of Judah all is well, the “blessing” believed to be the
homeland, the Promised Land (Jeremiah 27:14), rather than believe the
prophet Jeremiah himself who physically bore the yoke of oppression for all to
see (Jeremiah 27:2)?
The truth is we believe what we wish to believe.
In spite of what is actually written in the Scriptures, in spite of 2000 years
of Christian teaching, in spite of thousands of years of moral guidance, much
of what is written in the First Testament is beyond not our capacity to
believe – but our willingness to trust. That The Lord
would deliberately not only turn His back on His own Chosen people but would
actually decree a Gentile king to reign over them for a period is hard to
imagine. What is harder still is to appreciate the blessing bestowed
on Judah by this incomprehensible decree.
Judah had to be punished, but there also had to be
restraint. Much like the sentence of “no more than forty
lashes” lest one be completely degraded (Deuteronomy 25:3),
the sentence of exile had to be carried out for the sake of future generations
– and for the sake of the Covenant which would endure long after the exile had
ended. For this period, however, there had to be a serious course
correction lest Judah run itself completely over the edge and into the abyss of
nothingness.
It is indeed written, “God is love” (1
John 4:8). Yet as my disdain for “bumper sticker theology” goes, that
very simple and yet very profound statement must be carefully unpacked within
an appropriate biblical and objective – rather than subjective
- context. For the God who “so loved the world that He sent
His Son” into the world is the same God who put His own people
under the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar. And for much the same reasons: to
preserve His Covenant and to save His people from themselves! Sometimes love hurts, but it is love
nonetheless.
Would a parent do any less for the sake of a child who
has deviated from the righteous path? Do we not punish our own children
one way or another solely for the sake of course correction? They may
only appreciate such a course correction years later when they begin to “pay
for their raising”, but they will not forget the care, the concern, the
profound and enduring love that comes from a firm resolve and, yes, sometimes a
strong hand.
Yet like the loss of privilege in being grounded (so
to speak), Judah had a life to live as a people because the Covenant was still
before them. “Eat, live, marry, and make babies – multiply and
do not decrease”. Through faithful life and living, they
were to seek the well-being of the place to which they had been sent – because
they were still Covenant people. It wasn’t what they would ever wish for,
but they still bore the mark of their God; and the well-being of the city to
which they were exiled would be their own well-being and to the glory of The
Lord.
It is often a bitter pill we must swallow, but we
must “judge ourselves properly so we do not come under
judgment” (1 Corinthians 11:31). We cannot pretend to
live in a bubble of peace when peace for others is so elusive. And though
I do not claim to be a prophet, The Word of The Lord assures us the welfare of
our towns and our nation is not dependent on who is in the White House or the
Congress; not now, not in the past, not in the future. The well-being of
ourselves as a people, as a congregation of faith, is entirely dependent on the
benevolence of the God we always claim to love but often serve conditionally –
that is, as it suits us.
Our own Promised Land, the “New Jerusalem”, is yet to
be. Until that time, let us find and appreciate the blessings we have and
make the most of them … for His glory rather than only for our own sake.
For when we concern ourselves with the well-being of our entire community,
there will we find our own well-being. Then will we know what “blessing”
really is. Amen.
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