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Jeremiah 8:18-9:1 In the aftermath of the terrorist attacks on our country, we have a hunger for healing in our lives. As the losses mounted and the talk of war began, we yearned for some sense of normalcy to return. Video stores reported a record business, with a high demand for comedies. Neighbors joined neighbors, many for the first time, in discussions on the streets. Sons and daughters called their parents, just to talk and reconnect. Old friends greeted each other with renewed warmth and appreciation. I had lunch this week with an old friend of mine from seminary. He pastors a church in Nogales and was in Tucson for a hospital visit. We hadn't seen each other for several months. When he arrived at the office, we greeted each other with a warm embrace and quickly fell into a conversation about what had happened. We encouraged each other. We discussed the possibilities of war. We relied on each other. We talked about the role of the church. We cared for each other. We were hungry for healing. Across the nation, we have been plunged into a time of grief and sadness. We are facing economic uncertainties. We feel new fear about our safety. And, in new ways, we are reaching out to each other. We've seen unprecedented gifts to blood banks, to charities, and to relief efforts. We see a fresh outpouring of national pride, with flags displayed on cars, on clothing, in businesses. We're hungry for healing. A terrorist attack of this type has never happened before. Never have passenger airlines been turned into missiles to attack and kill civilians. Never has such a concerted effort been made to destroy major business and military buildings in the United States. As we face such horrific losses, what could the Bible possibly have to offer us? How could the authors of scripture - people who only faced the threats of slingshots, daggers, and swords - ever comprehend the horror we're facing? As it turns out, they could understand it fairly well. This morning's passage from Jeremiah was written after a great disaster. Bible scholars believe that it was written shortly after the Battle of Megiddo. In a desperate effort to aid the collapsing Assyrian Empire, Pharoah Necho II marched up from Egypt with an army of reinforcements. Necho arrived too late to save his Assyrian ally, but at Megiddo, in northern Palestine on the ancient road from Egypt to Mesopotamia, he encountered the army from Judah, commanded by King Josiah. The Judahites were crushed and Josiah was killed by an arrow. After the disastrous Battle of Megiddo, the people of Judah faced a time of consternation and dismay. The death of Josiah closed a period of mingled optimism and anxiety. The disaster shattered the illusory hopes based on the formal acceptance of the Covenant. The disaster also plunged the nation into a depth of gloom. After the attack on Megiddo and the death of Josiah, their false optimisms were shattered. Their dejection and despondency broke suddenly into a sense of panic and they fled to fortified cities. Does this sound familiar? The sense of surprise? The change from optimism to fear? The desire to flee to a safe place? How does Jeremiah respond to this grief? How will we respond to uncertainty and loss? Let's take a closer look at the scripture:
Jeremiah is not a detached observer, reporting on the plight of the citizens of Judah. Jeremiah's identification with the sorrows of his people is complete. As we read his words, we touch not only the tears for lost humans, but we hear the cry of the daughter of his people. The prophet is heartsick and grief ridden. Just as the people are broken by the disaster, Jeremiah is broken within. On Friday night the entertainment world came together to hold a Tribute to Heroes. The purpose of the event was to raise funds and to raise the spirits of everyone who has been touched by the tragedy of September 11. The fundraiser featured an all-star cast that included Bon Jovi, Jim Carrey, The Dixie Chicks, Sela Ward, and Calista Flockhart. As the stars took the stage to speak a few words or sing a song, you could sometimes see a flicker of emotion on the faces of those who are trained to keep their composure on stage. With others, you could plainly see the sense of pain, loss, and hurt etched on their faces. When Julia Roberts spoke, her tears, her breathing, and her facial expressions showed that she felt the grief of the American people. It was the same way with Jeremiah. He wasn't a distant prophet who was unaffected by the tragedy affecting his country. He lived the pain and loss with those who had lost much. I believe that is part of our challenge today. As much as we want to immerse ourselves in everyday activities - watching football, going to the mall, visiting with friends, seeing a funny movie - we should be careful not to push away our sense of loss and pain. Grief counselors teach us that denying our loss now makes it much more difficult to deal with it later. While we don't want to wallow in self-pity, we should make sure that we don't short-circuit our need to deal with the tragedy. At the same time, we're called as Christians to reach out with empathy, just as Jeremiah did, to our hurting sisters and brothers across the country. And, this doesn't just mean other Methodists or other Christians. But to share our concern with Muslims and Jews and Buddhists and all others.
The other day I heard a mother trying to explain to her daughter where God was in the middle of this terrible time. It's a difficult question to answer. How could God allow such a terrible thing to happen? Where is God when we feel afraid and powerless? These are questions that don't get asked in church very often. We don't see preachers look heavenward with anguish on their faces and say, "God, where are you?" But Jeremiah understood the pain of his people and he expressed their sense of abandonment. Jeremiah cries out, "Listen to the cry of my people from a land far away, 'Is the Lord not in Zion? Is her king no longer there?'" It sounds very similar to the cry of Jesus on the cross - "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" In a nation that likes to consider itself favored in God's eyes, the events of September 11 cause us to ask the same questions. Where was God when terrorists killed innocent men, women, children? How could God allow such a disastrous thing to happen? And where is God now? Jeremiah also asks where his people will find relief. When he asks if there is "no balm in Gilead," he's referring to the resin from the Styrax tree that grows in the Trans-Jordan region. It was used medicinally as a salve on wounds. And Jeremiah is asking if there was no medicine to heal the pain. Jeremiah shows us that it's okay to ask those questions. And he also demonstrates that he understands that God is still present. His words rely on the presence of an all-powerful, all-loving God. Today, we can enable people to ask tough questions about God. And we can point the way toward a God that is still present and still loves us very dearly.
Part of Jeremiah's pain was due to the stubbornness of the people of Judah. He was aware that the time for national pride in Judah was past, and he has given up hope that the people will turn toward God. When Jeremiah says that "the harvest has passed, the summer has ended, and we are not saved," he's referring to the lack of spiritual fruit in the lives of the people of Judah. In Palestine, the harvest and the summer are two distinct seasons. The harvest lasted from April to June. The summer lasted much longer, into late September or early October. If the harvest failed, the people could still hope for the successful collection of fruit before the entire growing season was over. But, in this case, the prophet says that all hope has passed them by. Jeremiah is saddened because the people of Judah were not prepared to grow spiritually. And without a spiritual sense of direction, without a willingness to turn toward God, their disaster would lead to much more serious devastation. Are we facing the same crisis today? Are we so spiritually dead in the United States that we aren't capable of turning toward God to lead us through this difficult situation? Is our harvest past, our summer ending, without the spiritual fruit that is needed to weather this storm? We've seen many signs of hope over the past week and a half. We've seen national leaders and citizens call on God for help and guidance. We've seen the irrepressible spirit of voluntarism, with thousands of people from around the globe pitching in to help during this time. We've seen God at work in those who care during our time of loss. And, we're also facing the threat of a war that may involve a number of nations. We face the prospect of a protracted effort to bring the terrorists to justice. We may see the further loss of lives in retaliation, or retribution, or open warfare. Are we being guided by God into this path? Jeremiah cried for his people because they were unwilling to turn toward God during a time of crisis. He would also cry for us if he saw that we were unwilling or unable to trust God during this time of disaster.
The pain of our loss is real. Just as Jeremiah fully experienced the grief of his people, let us acknowledge the same sense of loss with our countrymen. Let us not be afraid to ask where God is in the midst of chaos and terror - while continuing to point the way toward relationship with God. And, let us turn toward God as our source of strength, rather than relying on superficial or human means of retaliation. We're all hungry for healing. Today, God is here with us, ready to provide God's power and healing in our lives. May we have the courage to claim that power. Amen. |