Sermon: September 25, 2022

Preacher: Rev. Ryan Slifka

Scripture(s): Jeremiah 32:1-15

Today’s scripture has this very Lord of the Rings-type feel to it.

We’re told that Jerusalem, the heavenly city, capital of the kingdom of Judah, is surrounded on all sides. Nebuchadnezzar, King of the Babylonian Empire has invaded and is laying siege to the city. Judah’s armies have been routed, food and water supplies have been cut off, and the countryside’s been set ablaze. Vast armies of the world’s greatest superpower, known for their brutality, lay in wait. Either for its inhabitants to surrender, or for a hole to open in the city walls. Surrounded. No way out. The term “hopeless” is a bit of an understatement.

Cut to the throne room. Seated at the throne is Zedekiah, king of Judah, whose kingdom is about to be crushed. And before him is Jeremiah, prophet of the Lord. Prophets aren’t fortune-tellers, but they’re people given divine perspective. They see as God sees. And they deliver the message to anyone who’ll listen.

And the thing is that the message that Jeremiah’s been delivering is kind of unpopular. As the Babylonian army shakes the ground with its marching soldiers and chariots, Jeremiah’s insisting that this invasion is a judgment on the kingdom of Judah. They’ve brought it on themselves with their unfaithfulness, and dabbling in international intrigue. Everyone who fights will be destroyed, Jeremiah says, while everyone who gives in to the Babylonians will be spared. Thus saith the Lord. This message has landed him in prison, and he’s been branded a traitor. Which you can understand, why.

Despite ridicule, though. Despite torture, and imprisonment, Jeremiah refuses to change his tune. And so King Zedekiah’s summoned Jeremiah to figure out why he’s being so negative. “Why,” asks the King, “you keep on on saying “thus saith the Lord,” and insist that I, the King, am gonna be captured, and brought before the king of Babylon, and’ll be taken into exile. Why must you keep proclaiming that no matter how hard we fight against the colonizers we won’t succeed?” the king says. “Don’t you want us to win the war? Don’t you want us to survive? We’re God’s people. So surely God’ll get us out of this mess.” And yet Jeremiah keeps on insisting that no, in fact, God won’t get them out of this mess. That no matter what they do, the kingdom is toast. And the end is nigh.

The king can’t figure out why Jeremiah insists on being such a Debbie downer. Despite his flavour of negativity, though, Jeremiah insists that he’s not being negative at all.

“Why do I keep up with this thing?” Jeremiah responds. “Well, something really strange happened to me. The Word of the Lord came to me and told me my cousin Hanamel was gonna sell me a field in my home town of Anathoth. And you know what? I thought it was crazy. I mean, first of all, everyone there wanted me dead as a traitor. Second of all, it’s been smashed by the Babylonians. Third of all, I’m in prison—what am I going to do with land, anyway? Not only is the real estate market in the tank, you think the Babylonians are going to honour my deed? I’d be crazy to buy it no matter the price.

It’d be nuts to buy this thing. So I figured that maybe it wasn’t the Lord speaking to begin with. Maybe I ate something funny before bed. But you know what? Wouldn’t you know, during visiting hours, my cousin Hanamel in fact came to me. And guess what? He offered to sell me that land, exactly like the Word of the Lord said. So I figured it must be God.

So, against my better instincts, and against all common sense, I bought it. Had my cousin transfer the money, had the notary process the paperwork, had all the witnesses come to my jail cell, signed on the dotted line. Then I had my assistant Baruch take it away, to seal it up in a bank deposit box. To keep it nice and safe. For future use.

Jeremiah’s in prison. Jerusalem’s about to fall. And God says buy some land. Who’s gonna work it? Who can buy it? Who’s even gonna honour the deed? It makes no sense. It all sounds crazy.

It all seems crazy. That is, until Jeremiah explains to Baruch as to why. “Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel,” he says. “Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.” Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land. Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel.

At this point the purpose of this whole crazy investment schemes becomes clear. This isn’t just a questionable real estate deal. It’s a symbolic act. A symbolic act of trust. God has promised to bring the people back from exile. God has promised to restore the land to its fertile and productive state. God has promised to do the impossible, and reverse their fortunes. The circumstances are about as dire as they get, even though the worst is yet to come, even though it looks like the end of the track for the kingdom, it’s not the end for God.

So with this little land deal, Jeremiah’s showing that he’s all in. He’s investing in the future. In spite of the bleakness of the present, he’s betting it all on God’s promises. He’s not pessimistic at all. In fact, he’s filled with hope, not just for himself, but for his people. Cottages will be built, wineries will flow again, and the joy of children’s laughter will fill every plain and valley again. Thus saith the Lord, the God of hosts. It’s an act of faith.

It’s a beautiful vision. And a beautiful promise. One that ended up coming true, actually. Jeremiah never got to see it. But eventually, thanks to the Persian empire, Babylon fell, and the people were returned home. Houses and vineyards were indeed bought in the land, yet again. Just as Jeremiah had proclaimed. That worthless deed he had Baruch hide away probably scored quite the return. Cha-ching.

The real beauty of this thing, though, is that it’s not just a one-time promise in history. This promise is gospel. It’s good news that applies to every age. Even our own.

Of course, we probably have a tough time imagining real estate of any kind being a bad investment. But we sure know what it’s like to feel hopelessly hemmed in by human life.

There’s of course, the smaller scale. A broken marriage, a wandering child, or an untimely death. Addiction, anxiety, depression, or a terminal diagnosis. Then there are the larger-scale things. Rightly or wrongly, we live in a particularly anxious time. Refugees, wildfires, wars and rumours of wars. A couple months ago, Ezra Klein, the journalist and popular podcaster for the New York Times said that two of the most frequent questions he gets are “Should I have kids, given the climate crisis they will face?” and “Should I have kids, knowing they will contribute to the climate crisis the world faces?”[i] So why invest in anything long-term is there is no long term? Why have kids, why get married? Why go to church? Why search out a life-long vocation? Why be generous with what we have if it’s not going to fix anything? Why not eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die? It can feel like the Babylonians are at the gates, ready for their inevitable conquest. What’s the point of investing in the future if there is none?

Well, because there’s always a future with God. This is one of the messages shot through the Bible from beginning to end. From Jeremiah, all the way up to Jesus. Like Jeremiah’s worthless-seeming real estate deal, the cross is the symbol of God’s investment in humanity, in spite of all our foibles and failures. And the resurrection is God’s promise that there’s no such thing as a true dead end.

(slide—Deadly toll)

You may remember a terrible shooting that happened in Parkland Florida back in 2018. Where a gunman, Nikolas Cruz opened fire, killing 17 people, and wounding 17 others. At the time it was the most deadly high school shooting in US history.

There was this moving video of Joe Biden’s visit to the grieving families.[ii] Biden was running for president at the time.

In the video Biden’s in a gymnasium, meeting with families who have lost loved ones. He’s moving through the crowd, and solemnly shaking hands with the family of one of the victims, the parents and wife of, the wrestling coach who tried to disarm the shooter before he was killed. Biden shakes their hands, and turns to walk away. And you can hear someone shouting “I’m his son!” And this teenager with Downs’ Syndrome runs up and he just clings to Biden, weeping over his father’s death.

(Slide—Biden hugging)

And it’s funny, because rather than jumping back or ducking out of the way, Biden instinctually embraces him, and plants a kiss on the top of his head. And almost without even thinking, he says “we’re gonna be OK. I promise.” “We’re gonna be OK. I promise.”

Let me be clear before I continue—this is not some glorification of Joe Biden. Honestly, the video was used in kind of an icky way during the campaign. But I’m not about to make a political point. Rather, a theological one.

This moment resonated so deeply because what Biden said is true. Not just about that particular shooting. But on a cosmic scale.

In a nation devastated by violence. In a community laid waste by bloodshed. In countless families broken, torn apart by murder, it felt like the end of the world. The Babylonians were not only at the gates of Parkland, they breached the defenses. The idea that life could flourish in that place, that anyone could ever start again, and invest in any kind of future sounds like a cruel joke. But even there, in the light of the gospel, Biden’s words were true. “We’re gonna be ok… I promise.” Because God holds the future, there is always another day ahead. Houses and vineyards and fields will one day be bought again.  

(Slide—Houses and fields)

Because God holds the future, we don’t have to consign ourselves to hopelessness, no matter how fearful and dark it may appear.

Because God holds the future, we can throw down roots in our neighbourhoods. We can throw ourselves into cultivating friendships, marriages, and raising children. Even though we have no idea what’s coming next, we can trust that all things ultimately work for God’s good.

Because God holds the future, we can sprinkle seeds of grace all over the place. We can weep with those who weep, embrace the least, the lost, and the broken. We can love and serve our neighbours, and practice generosity wholeheartedly without worrying about short-term returns on our investments. Knowing that heaven’s treasures are coming back 10 fold.

Because God holds the future, we don’t have to let our lives be shattered by suffering, loss or pain. We don’t have to give up, or give in to despair. No!

Instead, like Jeremiah, we can go all in on LIFE. Trusting that there is yet more light to shine, more love to give, and more beauty to behold.

We can sing HALLELUJAH, and give God praise even on the darkest days. We can be joyful though we have considered all the facts… because, in the words of the Apostle Paul, in all these things were are more than conquerors through Christ, who loved us.

So friends, brothers and sisters, guests from near and far. May we follow the advice of the great farmer and poet, Wendell Berry:

“Friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it… Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection.”[iii]

Because Christ is risen, and “Houses and vineyards will again be bought in this land.” Thus saith the Lord, the God of hosts.

It’s time to invest. Because nothing is impossible with God. It’s time to go all in. “We’re gonna be okay—I promise.”

Amen.

[i] Ezra Klein, “Your Kids Are Not Doomed,” The New York Times https://www.nytimes.com/2022/06/05/opinion/climate-change-should-you-have-kids.html

[ii] “Video of Biden Hugging Son of Parkland Shooting Victim Goes Viral,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyMa96yOel0

[iii] Wendell Berry, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front,” https://cals.arizona.edu/~steidl/Liberation.html