Law and gospel
Commentary
The lessons seem even more disparate today than usual. They address a variety of themes related to the Christian life. The Gospel reading establishes the dominant tone of the day as one that encourages faith which favors healing and the relief of suffering over obsession with a religion of rules that ignores human need. The second reading also contrasts two ways of faith -- in this case, the old covenant with the new, the presentation of God as an unapproachable terror with the manifestation of Christ as mediator. The first reading reports the call of the prophet Jeremiah who would speak of both law and gospel (1:9) and eventually prophesy the coming of the new covenant (31:31-34).
Jeremiah 1:4-10
The call narrative of the prophet Jeremiah is perhaps the most striking of any such account in the Hebrew scriptures, remarkable for its simplicity and clarity. The key elements are all there: the initiative of God, the objection of the prophet, and the affirmation of the divine presence in response to this objection.
In verse 5, God actually anticipates the objection before it is given, stressing the intimate knowledge and intricate planning which has gone into this divine selection. Basically, God knows what God is doing. If God says Jeremiah can be a prophet, well, God should know. God knows Jeremiah better than Jeremiah knows himself. This is brought out by the Hebrew word yada: "before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." There is nothing quite like this word in English. It implies intimate knowledge based on personal acquaintance or experience. It is because this connotation is so strong that the word can be used as a metaphor for sexual relations (Genesis 4:1).
Jeremiah's objection is similar to that of Moses in Exodus 4:1-17. Indeed, some commentators have suggested that Jeremiah is supposed to be viewed as "the prophet like Moses" promised in Deuteronomy 18:18, especially since the latter half of that verse is virtually quoted here in verse 9. The incapacity of prophets to speak God's word convincingly on their own is a standard feature in the Bible. Indeed, the whole point is that the prophets would be nothing if God did not give them words to speak. In the New Testament, Paul maintains that God's grace is seen the more clearly on account of the weaknesses of those who bear witness to it (1 Corinthians 1:26--2:5; 2 Corinthians 12:9-
10). So also Jesus gives the Great Commission to disciples of little faith, who doubt as well as worship (Matthew 28:16-20). Incapacity and ineptitude are not obstacles that must be overcome for witnesses to be effective; they may in fact become means through which God's grace and power are seen.
Jeremiah's specific complaint is that he is but a youth. We cannot tell from the text how young he is supposed to be at the time of this call. The same word used here for "boy" is elsewhere used for infants (Exodus 2:6; 1 Samuel 4:21). Most likely, here, he is an adolescent, still too young for marriage. The text, therefore, has rightly been used for the encouragement of youth, through whose voices God can and still does speak.
The content of Jeremiah's ministry described in verse 10 is a classic statement of law and gospel, of the pastoral responsibility "to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Jeremiah, no doubt, preferred the work of building and planting to that of plucking up and tearing down. Most of us do. But, notably, as this book continues, he seems called to do an inordinate amount of the latter. He does it faithfully and with tears -- and, sometimes, he suffers mightily for it.
Hebrews 12:18-29
The author of Hebrews presents here a vivid contrast between the old covenant and the new covenant with an appeal for us to avail ourselves of the benefits of the latter. Indeed, most of the verb tenses (for example, "you have come" in v. 22) indicate an assumption that the audience already has done so, and needs only encouragement to continue to do so.
The old covenant is symbolized by Mount Sinai and the new covenant by Mount Zion. One difference between them is that the first could be perceived with the senses while the latter depends entirely on faith. The signs of the Sinai covenant were sights (fire, darkness) and sounds (trumpet, voice). It could be touched and so people knew that it was real. Paradoxically, however, the covenant was not therefore more accessible. Mount Sinai could be touched, but the law required that anything that did touch this sacred mountain be put to death. The voice of God came in ways that could be heard, but the hearers begged for not another word to be spoken.
Mount Zion, the author would admit, cannot be touched with the hands or seen with the eyes. The signs of the Zion covenant are a heavenly city and the people assembled there (the mighty cloud of witnesses referred to in 12:1) include an innumerable band of angels and the spirits of the righteous who have now been made perfect (by the "perfecter of faith," 12:2). These signs are not visible, yet somehow this covenant is more accessible, more real than the other. You have come to this one, the author says, not to the other.
Donald Hagner of Fuller Seminary says, "It would be difficult to find a more impressive and moving expression of realized eschatology." All the elements just mentioned are employed in Revelation as part of the future kingdom that awaits us in glory. But this writer believes we have already come to this heavenly city. It is even now all around us, no less certain or real just because it cannot be "touched." Ultimately, we have come to God (v. 23) and we have come to Jesus (v. 24), whose reality is hardly tangible.
After the description comes the encouragement: "Do not refuse!" Interesting that, with all the altar calls that invite people today to "accept Jesus," this writer asks only that we not refuse him. Of course, this is partly because the message is for those who have already come to him. Still, the emphasis is not on what we must do to maintain the covenant, only on the concern that we not actively desert it. Apparently, we can reject God's kingdom if we choose (v. 25), but the kingdom itself cannot be shaken. We will not just fall out of it. The appropriate response to such an assurance is to give thanks (v. 28) and to worship (v.9).
"Our God is a consuming fire," the message concludes. At first this may seem peculiar, for it seems to link us back to the Old Testament view of God -- the God of Sinai (see Deuteronomy 4:24) with which the God of the new covenant has just been contrasted. But of course there is only one God, and we have misunderstood the text if we think it is saying that God has changed. God was a consuming fire then and still is. God is still "the judge of all." The God of the New Testament is the God of the Old. The covenant differs only in how we are made acceptable to this righteous, consuming God. Jesus is the mediator who has sprinkled us with blood. The blood of Abel cried out from the earth for vengeance (Genesis 4:10), but the blood of Jesus speaks a word of forgiveness (v. 24).
Luke 13:10-17
In Acts 10:38, Peter summarizes the entire ministry of Jesus with these words: "He went about doing good and healing all those who were oppressed by the devil." For today's lesson we have but one of many stories in the Gospels that illustrate this.
This one is unique to the Gospel of Luke. We are tempted to think that the evangelist sought it and added it deliberately to provide a parallel to the story in 14:1-6, which he got from Mark. Often, Luke tells pairs of stories, one dealing with a man and the other with a woman: announcements to Zechariah and to Mary (1:5-38); prophecies of Simeon and of Anna (2:25-38); a list of male followers (6:12-16) and of female followers (8:1-3). In most cases, the two stories make the same point -- there seem to be two primarily for the sake of gender inclusiveness. So it would be just like Luke to want a story of a woman healed on the sabbath to go with that of a man healed on the sabbath.
This woman suffered from some crippling condition which had prevented her from standing up straight for eighteen years. The physical description carries symbolic meaning regarding the social significance attached to her plight. The very words translated "bent over" in verse 11 are sometimes used to describe people who have been put to shame -- it is rather like describing someone in English as "bowed down" or "laid low" or simply "crushed." Apparently, this poor woman had literally been looking at the dirt for many years -- she was not able to look up or "stand tall." She becomes a symbol of those who may be oppressed by any number of circumstances.
Perhaps the most moving words in the pericope for me are in verse 12: "Jesus saw her." He noticed her, and he took the initiative to call her, touch her, and heal her. She did not come expecting any of this, and not a word is said about her faith or worth. The point is simply that Jesus took note of her. He saw what was wrong and he did something about it.
Then we get the reaction. It is almost staggering. The woman stands up straight and begins praising God, but the religious leader is not pleased. How could anybody possibly object to "the crooked being made straight" and to God being praised? Indeed, the hypocrites (as Jesus calls them) do not object to that. They do not insinuate that such healing or praise is contrary to God's will. But religious protocol has not been followed! There are six days a week when you can come and be cured. We wonder just how many days this woman has come over the past eighteen years.
The story is a classic paradigm of obsession with the letter of the law getting in the way of what everyone realizes God wants to see happen. We need only be careful not to interpret it in a way that shows anti-Semitic bias (the Jewish leader couldn't understand Christ's grace). Luke is telling the story, no doubt, because he thinks this religious leader is like a lot of Christians he has known. If your religious system (whatever it is) prevents God's will from being done, then there must be something wrong with your religion. This should be common sense. But such sense seems no more common now than then.
Common sense told the religious leader that this woman had already suffered eighteen years -- what would it hurt to go one more day and be healed at a more appropriate time? Jesus was appalled at the logic -- though, of course, the point was logical. How could anyone imagine that God would want anyone to suffer even a single day? Martin Luther King, Jr., once wrote a book with the title Why We Can't Wait. I have it, but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. I don't think I have to -- I think the title says it all.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 1:4-10
You and I and all persons in our day are not prophets in the Old Testament sense of the word. They were given new words from God, which illumined where and how and why God was at work in Israel's life. But for us, the Word of God has now been fully revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. In his Son, God sums up and incarnates the whole of Old Testament prophecy. While we ministers are called to speak the Word of God, we therefore have no new word to proclaim, but rather we are called to proclaim Jesus Christ and to spell out what he means for life in our past, present, and future. So our speaking of the Word of God is secondary and dependent on the prior biblical word.
The Old Testament prophets received God's word in an ecstatic state, sometimes through dreams or visions, most often in direct speech from God. And we do not share that almost unexplainable, ecstatic, direct revelation anymore. Indeed, we are apt to put anyone who claims it in a mental hospital. God revealed himself to his prophets of old in a unique manner.
Further, the history into which the prophets released God's word is not our history. The ninth through the fifth centuries B.C. in Israel's life were vastly different from our times, and we cannot automatically transfer the prophets' words to apply to our situations.
Nevertheless, in our text, when God calls the youthful Jeremiah in 626 B.C. to be a prophet to the nations, the Lord reveals some of the characteristics of his divine nature, and it is that revelation that is important for us.
God comes to the young man Jeremiah in the most intimate fashion in this call. Jeremiah is not overwhelmed by the glory of God, as Ezekiel was (Ezekiel chs. 1-3) nor is he led to cry out over his sins when he beholds God's moral purity, as did Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-5). Rather, God assures the youth that he has loved (="known") Jeremiah and planned for him to be a prophet even before Jeremiah was born. God is "with" Jeremiah. He touches the young man, and assures him that he will always deliver him.
You and I have no lesser assurance. All of us have been created in our mother's wombs, the scriptures tell us (cf. Psalm 139:15-16), and God has a plan for each of our lives (cf. Philippians 1:6). We are not accidents of nature or even products of solely human love. Rather, we are the planned creations of the living God, who promises therefore to be with us to the end of history (Matthew 28:20).
Jeremiah, however, is a very unwilling servant of God, as we often are unwilling. He is called to proclaim God's words not just to Israel, but to the nations -- an overwhelming task, for which he has neither talent nor experience. God, throughout the scriptures, seems to call the most unlikely persons to serve his purpose. As Paul writes, "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong" (1 Corinthians 1:27). And yes, God calls even us insignificant souls to do his work, in order that all may see that the work comes solely from God and not from our talents or abilities (cf. 2 Corinthians 12:7-9).
God equips us unlikely servants, however, as he equipped Jeremiah, and all of our inadequacies for our God-given tasks are overcome by God's all-sufficiency. To Jeremiah's "I do not know," God replies, "I knew you" (vv. 6, 5). To Jeremiah's "I am only a youth, " God answers, "I am with you." "My grace is sufficient for you," the Lord told the Apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 12:9). And God's grace is always sufficient for us.
God is working out a plan of salvation in human history, a plan that he has laid very carefully from the beginning of human disobedience. We read that even before Jeremiah was formed in the womb, God knew how he wanted to use Jeremiah in his service, and how Jeremiah would fit into God's working toward his goal. And that is why Jeremiah was created, not simply to live out his days, not just to be his own person, but to be God's person, set apart (="consecrated") for God's purpose. And that was the meaning of Jeremiah's life, as it is always the meaning of ours.
If any sense characterizes modern life these days, it is a sense of meaninglessness, of not knowing why we are here or what we are supposed to be and do. But as a church catechism puts it, we are born "to glorify God and to enjoy him forever" -- in all we do to honor God, and in every moment to enjoy his company. And so our hearts are always restless until we rest in God, aren't they?
But who is this God we are called to serve? He is the Lord over all the earth. Jeremiah is called to preach the Word of God that will pluck up nations and break them down, that will build and plant others. God rules over the affairs of the world, despite all of our beliefs or evidence to the contrary. And you and I are called to serve a God who is Lord of all. It is an incredibly honorable task. Think of it! You and I, humble little souls that we are, are nevertheless called to be servants in the purpose of the King of the Universe! We are called to be instruments whom God uses to bring in his kingdom on earth. Surely there is no higher purpose for our living!
Lutheran Option, Isaiah 58:9b-14
This passage forms the last two stanzas (vv. 9b-12, 13-14) of the long poem that begins in Isaiah 58:1. Third Isaiah (chs. 56-66) is very much a situational book that reflects the conflict between the ruling Zadokite priests and the Levitical priests who have been ousted from their leadership of worship by the Zadokites, returned from Babylonian exile. Thus verse 9 of our text refers to the scorn and persecution that the Zadokites have inflicted upon the Levites.
If we generalize the text, however, it concerns both ethics and worship. The post-exilic Israelites are promised that if they minister to the hungry and afflicted in their society, then the Lord will be with them. And the Lord's presence is described in terms of "light" (cf. v. 8), as often throughout Third Isaiah (cf. 60:1, 19-20). By God's "light," the people will be guided in the proper way (v. 11). And by God's presence, the people will be given new vitality (=their bones made strong, v. 11). God is like a spring of living water (cf. Jeremiah 2:13; John 4:14) that gives life to withering plants, and so invigorated by the presence of the Lord, the people will be enabled to rebuild ruined Jerusalem (v. 12).
Another condition of God's presence with them is given in the last strophe, verses 13-14. If the people keep the sabbath rest and honor it by not simply pursuing their own ways, then God will not only be with them, but they will "delight" in God's company, in exaltation and abundance.
We must be clear about the meaning of the sabbath in the Old Testament, however. Just as God rested on the seventh day of creation (Genesis 2:2-3), the sabbath is set apart ("hallowed") for Israel as a day of rest. We often misinterpret the meaning of the sabbath, and think that it is a command (Exodus 20:8-11) to go to church. Thus, we turn what was meant by God to be a gift of grace into a legalistic duty. But the Old Testament is clear; the sabbath is set apart as a day when we and all of our household may rest. (Exodus 20 even includes animals in the rest.)
We are very busy modern creatures, working hard at our jobs, running hither, to and fro on errands of importance, fretting and worrying over the dozens of obligations that press in upon us. But on one day of the week, God says to us, "Take a break. Rest. Relax."
That is sheer grace on God's part. We haven't earned any rest. But nevertheless, a merciful God provides an opportunity for us to cease from work. And his command to us is that we extend that privilege to everyone around us.
In the Christian Church, we have equated the sabbath with Sunday, of course, but the two are not the same. Every Sunday is a worship celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ and we go to church to participate in that celebration. But the sabbath, affirmed by our Lord, was made for man, not man for the sabbath (Mark 2:27), and it is set apart by God to give his creatures rest.
Our text implies that we should be grateful for such mercy, not concentrating on ourselves, but delighting in God's gift. For the sabbath is also a way of realizing God's constant care over us.
Jeremiah 1:4-10
The call narrative of the prophet Jeremiah is perhaps the most striking of any such account in the Hebrew scriptures, remarkable for its simplicity and clarity. The key elements are all there: the initiative of God, the objection of the prophet, and the affirmation of the divine presence in response to this objection.
In verse 5, God actually anticipates the objection before it is given, stressing the intimate knowledge and intricate planning which has gone into this divine selection. Basically, God knows what God is doing. If God says Jeremiah can be a prophet, well, God should know. God knows Jeremiah better than Jeremiah knows himself. This is brought out by the Hebrew word yada: "before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." There is nothing quite like this word in English. It implies intimate knowledge based on personal acquaintance or experience. It is because this connotation is so strong that the word can be used as a metaphor for sexual relations (Genesis 4:1).
Jeremiah's objection is similar to that of Moses in Exodus 4:1-17. Indeed, some commentators have suggested that Jeremiah is supposed to be viewed as "the prophet like Moses" promised in Deuteronomy 18:18, especially since the latter half of that verse is virtually quoted here in verse 9. The incapacity of prophets to speak God's word convincingly on their own is a standard feature in the Bible. Indeed, the whole point is that the prophets would be nothing if God did not give them words to speak. In the New Testament, Paul maintains that God's grace is seen the more clearly on account of the weaknesses of those who bear witness to it (1 Corinthians 1:26--2:5; 2 Corinthians 12:9-
10). So also Jesus gives the Great Commission to disciples of little faith, who doubt as well as worship (Matthew 28:16-20). Incapacity and ineptitude are not obstacles that must be overcome for witnesses to be effective; they may in fact become means through which God's grace and power are seen.
Jeremiah's specific complaint is that he is but a youth. We cannot tell from the text how young he is supposed to be at the time of this call. The same word used here for "boy" is elsewhere used for infants (Exodus 2:6; 1 Samuel 4:21). Most likely, here, he is an adolescent, still too young for marriage. The text, therefore, has rightly been used for the encouragement of youth, through whose voices God can and still does speak.
The content of Jeremiah's ministry described in verse 10 is a classic statement of law and gospel, of the pastoral responsibility "to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Jeremiah, no doubt, preferred the work of building and planting to that of plucking up and tearing down. Most of us do. But, notably, as this book continues, he seems called to do an inordinate amount of the latter. He does it faithfully and with tears -- and, sometimes, he suffers mightily for it.
Hebrews 12:18-29
The author of Hebrews presents here a vivid contrast between the old covenant and the new covenant with an appeal for us to avail ourselves of the benefits of the latter. Indeed, most of the verb tenses (for example, "you have come" in v. 22) indicate an assumption that the audience already has done so, and needs only encouragement to continue to do so.
The old covenant is symbolized by Mount Sinai and the new covenant by Mount Zion. One difference between them is that the first could be perceived with the senses while the latter depends entirely on faith. The signs of the Sinai covenant were sights (fire, darkness) and sounds (trumpet, voice). It could be touched and so people knew that it was real. Paradoxically, however, the covenant was not therefore more accessible. Mount Sinai could be touched, but the law required that anything that did touch this sacred mountain be put to death. The voice of God came in ways that could be heard, but the hearers begged for not another word to be spoken.
Mount Zion, the author would admit, cannot be touched with the hands or seen with the eyes. The signs of the Zion covenant are a heavenly city and the people assembled there (the mighty cloud of witnesses referred to in 12:1) include an innumerable band of angels and the spirits of the righteous who have now been made perfect (by the "perfecter of faith," 12:2). These signs are not visible, yet somehow this covenant is more accessible, more real than the other. You have come to this one, the author says, not to the other.
Donald Hagner of Fuller Seminary says, "It would be difficult to find a more impressive and moving expression of realized eschatology." All the elements just mentioned are employed in Revelation as part of the future kingdom that awaits us in glory. But this writer believes we have already come to this heavenly city. It is even now all around us, no less certain or real just because it cannot be "touched." Ultimately, we have come to God (v. 23) and we have come to Jesus (v. 24), whose reality is hardly tangible.
After the description comes the encouragement: "Do not refuse!" Interesting that, with all the altar calls that invite people today to "accept Jesus," this writer asks only that we not refuse him. Of course, this is partly because the message is for those who have already come to him. Still, the emphasis is not on what we must do to maintain the covenant, only on the concern that we not actively desert it. Apparently, we can reject God's kingdom if we choose (v. 25), but the kingdom itself cannot be shaken. We will not just fall out of it. The appropriate response to such an assurance is to give thanks (v. 28) and to worship (v.9).
"Our God is a consuming fire," the message concludes. At first this may seem peculiar, for it seems to link us back to the Old Testament view of God -- the God of Sinai (see Deuteronomy 4:24) with which the God of the new covenant has just been contrasted. But of course there is only one God, and we have misunderstood the text if we think it is saying that God has changed. God was a consuming fire then and still is. God is still "the judge of all." The God of the New Testament is the God of the Old. The covenant differs only in how we are made acceptable to this righteous, consuming God. Jesus is the mediator who has sprinkled us with blood. The blood of Abel cried out from the earth for vengeance (Genesis 4:10), but the blood of Jesus speaks a word of forgiveness (v. 24).
Luke 13:10-17
In Acts 10:38, Peter summarizes the entire ministry of Jesus with these words: "He went about doing good and healing all those who were oppressed by the devil." For today's lesson we have but one of many stories in the Gospels that illustrate this.
This one is unique to the Gospel of Luke. We are tempted to think that the evangelist sought it and added it deliberately to provide a parallel to the story in 14:1-6, which he got from Mark. Often, Luke tells pairs of stories, one dealing with a man and the other with a woman: announcements to Zechariah and to Mary (1:5-38); prophecies of Simeon and of Anna (2:25-38); a list of male followers (6:12-16) and of female followers (8:1-3). In most cases, the two stories make the same point -- there seem to be two primarily for the sake of gender inclusiveness. So it would be just like Luke to want a story of a woman healed on the sabbath to go with that of a man healed on the sabbath.
This woman suffered from some crippling condition which had prevented her from standing up straight for eighteen years. The physical description carries symbolic meaning regarding the social significance attached to her plight. The very words translated "bent over" in verse 11 are sometimes used to describe people who have been put to shame -- it is rather like describing someone in English as "bowed down" or "laid low" or simply "crushed." Apparently, this poor woman had literally been looking at the dirt for many years -- she was not able to look up or "stand tall." She becomes a symbol of those who may be oppressed by any number of circumstances.
Perhaps the most moving words in the pericope for me are in verse 12: "Jesus saw her." He noticed her, and he took the initiative to call her, touch her, and heal her. She did not come expecting any of this, and not a word is said about her faith or worth. The point is simply that Jesus took note of her. He saw what was wrong and he did something about it.
Then we get the reaction. It is almost staggering. The woman stands up straight and begins praising God, but the religious leader is not pleased. How could anybody possibly object to "the crooked being made straight" and to God being praised? Indeed, the hypocrites (as Jesus calls them) do not object to that. They do not insinuate that such healing or praise is contrary to God's will. But religious protocol has not been followed! There are six days a week when you can come and be cured. We wonder just how many days this woman has come over the past eighteen years.
The story is a classic paradigm of obsession with the letter of the law getting in the way of what everyone realizes God wants to see happen. We need only be careful not to interpret it in a way that shows anti-Semitic bias (the Jewish leader couldn't understand Christ's grace). Luke is telling the story, no doubt, because he thinks this religious leader is like a lot of Christians he has known. If your religious system (whatever it is) prevents God's will from being done, then there must be something wrong with your religion. This should be common sense. But such sense seems no more common now than then.
Common sense told the religious leader that this woman had already suffered eighteen years -- what would it hurt to go one more day and be healed at a more appropriate time? Jesus was appalled at the logic -- though, of course, the point was logical. How could anyone imagine that God would want anyone to suffer even a single day? Martin Luther King, Jr., once wrote a book with the title Why We Can't Wait. I have it, but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. I don't think I have to -- I think the title says it all.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 1:4-10
You and I and all persons in our day are not prophets in the Old Testament sense of the word. They were given new words from God, which illumined where and how and why God was at work in Israel's life. But for us, the Word of God has now been fully revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. In his Son, God sums up and incarnates the whole of Old Testament prophecy. While we ministers are called to speak the Word of God, we therefore have no new word to proclaim, but rather we are called to proclaim Jesus Christ and to spell out what he means for life in our past, present, and future. So our speaking of the Word of God is secondary and dependent on the prior biblical word.
The Old Testament prophets received God's word in an ecstatic state, sometimes through dreams or visions, most often in direct speech from God. And we do not share that almost unexplainable, ecstatic, direct revelation anymore. Indeed, we are apt to put anyone who claims it in a mental hospital. God revealed himself to his prophets of old in a unique manner.
Further, the history into which the prophets released God's word is not our history. The ninth through the fifth centuries B.C. in Israel's life were vastly different from our times, and we cannot automatically transfer the prophets' words to apply to our situations.
Nevertheless, in our text, when God calls the youthful Jeremiah in 626 B.C. to be a prophet to the nations, the Lord reveals some of the characteristics of his divine nature, and it is that revelation that is important for us.
God comes to the young man Jeremiah in the most intimate fashion in this call. Jeremiah is not overwhelmed by the glory of God, as Ezekiel was (Ezekiel chs. 1-3) nor is he led to cry out over his sins when he beholds God's moral purity, as did Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-5). Rather, God assures the youth that he has loved (="known") Jeremiah and planned for him to be a prophet even before Jeremiah was born. God is "with" Jeremiah. He touches the young man, and assures him that he will always deliver him.
You and I have no lesser assurance. All of us have been created in our mother's wombs, the scriptures tell us (cf. Psalm 139:15-16), and God has a plan for each of our lives (cf. Philippians 1:6). We are not accidents of nature or even products of solely human love. Rather, we are the planned creations of the living God, who promises therefore to be with us to the end of history (Matthew 28:20).
Jeremiah, however, is a very unwilling servant of God, as we often are unwilling. He is called to proclaim God's words not just to Israel, but to the nations -- an overwhelming task, for which he has neither talent nor experience. God, throughout the scriptures, seems to call the most unlikely persons to serve his purpose. As Paul writes, "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong" (1 Corinthians 1:27). And yes, God calls even us insignificant souls to do his work, in order that all may see that the work comes solely from God and not from our talents or abilities (cf. 2 Corinthians 12:7-9).
God equips us unlikely servants, however, as he equipped Jeremiah, and all of our inadequacies for our God-given tasks are overcome by God's all-sufficiency. To Jeremiah's "I do not know," God replies, "I knew you" (vv. 6, 5). To Jeremiah's "I am only a youth, " God answers, "I am with you." "My grace is sufficient for you," the Lord told the Apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 12:9). And God's grace is always sufficient for us.
God is working out a plan of salvation in human history, a plan that he has laid very carefully from the beginning of human disobedience. We read that even before Jeremiah was formed in the womb, God knew how he wanted to use Jeremiah in his service, and how Jeremiah would fit into God's working toward his goal. And that is why Jeremiah was created, not simply to live out his days, not just to be his own person, but to be God's person, set apart (="consecrated") for God's purpose. And that was the meaning of Jeremiah's life, as it is always the meaning of ours.
If any sense characterizes modern life these days, it is a sense of meaninglessness, of not knowing why we are here or what we are supposed to be and do. But as a church catechism puts it, we are born "to glorify God and to enjoy him forever" -- in all we do to honor God, and in every moment to enjoy his company. And so our hearts are always restless until we rest in God, aren't they?
But who is this God we are called to serve? He is the Lord over all the earth. Jeremiah is called to preach the Word of God that will pluck up nations and break them down, that will build and plant others. God rules over the affairs of the world, despite all of our beliefs or evidence to the contrary. And you and I are called to serve a God who is Lord of all. It is an incredibly honorable task. Think of it! You and I, humble little souls that we are, are nevertheless called to be servants in the purpose of the King of the Universe! We are called to be instruments whom God uses to bring in his kingdom on earth. Surely there is no higher purpose for our living!
Lutheran Option, Isaiah 58:9b-14
This passage forms the last two stanzas (vv. 9b-12, 13-14) of the long poem that begins in Isaiah 58:1. Third Isaiah (chs. 56-66) is very much a situational book that reflects the conflict between the ruling Zadokite priests and the Levitical priests who have been ousted from their leadership of worship by the Zadokites, returned from Babylonian exile. Thus verse 9 of our text refers to the scorn and persecution that the Zadokites have inflicted upon the Levites.
If we generalize the text, however, it concerns both ethics and worship. The post-exilic Israelites are promised that if they minister to the hungry and afflicted in their society, then the Lord will be with them. And the Lord's presence is described in terms of "light" (cf. v. 8), as often throughout Third Isaiah (cf. 60:1, 19-20). By God's "light," the people will be guided in the proper way (v. 11). And by God's presence, the people will be given new vitality (=their bones made strong, v. 11). God is like a spring of living water (cf. Jeremiah 2:13; John 4:14) that gives life to withering plants, and so invigorated by the presence of the Lord, the people will be enabled to rebuild ruined Jerusalem (v. 12).
Another condition of God's presence with them is given in the last strophe, verses 13-14. If the people keep the sabbath rest and honor it by not simply pursuing their own ways, then God will not only be with them, but they will "delight" in God's company, in exaltation and abundance.
We must be clear about the meaning of the sabbath in the Old Testament, however. Just as God rested on the seventh day of creation (Genesis 2:2-3), the sabbath is set apart ("hallowed") for Israel as a day of rest. We often misinterpret the meaning of the sabbath, and think that it is a command (Exodus 20:8-11) to go to church. Thus, we turn what was meant by God to be a gift of grace into a legalistic duty. But the Old Testament is clear; the sabbath is set apart as a day when we and all of our household may rest. (Exodus 20 even includes animals in the rest.)
We are very busy modern creatures, working hard at our jobs, running hither, to and fro on errands of importance, fretting and worrying over the dozens of obligations that press in upon us. But on one day of the week, God says to us, "Take a break. Rest. Relax."
That is sheer grace on God's part. We haven't earned any rest. But nevertheless, a merciful God provides an opportunity for us to cease from work. And his command to us is that we extend that privilege to everyone around us.
In the Christian Church, we have equated the sabbath with Sunday, of course, but the two are not the same. Every Sunday is a worship celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ and we go to church to participate in that celebration. But the sabbath, affirmed by our Lord, was made for man, not man for the sabbath (Mark 2:27), and it is set apart by God to give his creatures rest.
Our text implies that we should be grateful for such mercy, not concentrating on ourselves, but delighting in God's gift. For the sabbath is also a way of realizing God's constant care over us.
