Go down to the Potter's House

In contrast with Isaiah, Jeremiah is somewhat more pensive. His messages of judgement come with less assurance of hope, probably because that judgement was already taking place during his time. It was by no means an easy book to read, and I found it less rewarding and more laborious a task. But that's probably because I'd never expected it at first. And it probably means there's much more in here that I believe will be revealed in subsequent readings in the future.

Some themes that threaded throughout the 52 chapters were righteousness; God's character; the law of undulation; and promises, not the least of which were those of the Messiah.

Righteousness

Here, as almost everywhere else where judgement is concerned, God reveals his take on righteousness. He exposes false religion for what it is: false religion. He longs for a people that will seek him face to face, that will do what is truly good, and not just follow the motions of religion. One gets the feeling that God would rather do away with the word 'religion' if he could.

50:20 made me think a little about sin. Much of what we consider sin, has been truncated to deeds we do or don't do, like murder or not praying. But then these are 'negative sins' or 'positive actions'. Yes, I wrote that correctly. They are either sins that have a notoriously evil connotation (murder, adultery, lying) and are positive actions in the sense that they are done. Conversely, a 'negative action' is something not done, e.g. not going to the cinema. At least in this sense.

But I think God's idea of sin is probably more towards a state of being rather than doing. That verse in Romans, "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" probably emphasizes the falling short rather than the act of sin itself. When we look at it that way, sin is anything that isn't like God. And indeed that really widens the scope of what we call sin!

In Jeremiah, the sort of judgement God pronounces, seems to have one purpose in mind: to bring about a total change in the people, so that they will be unable to sin. For instance, if we are truly convinced of the sovereignty of God, we will find it impossible to stoop to the level of idols. Someone who has a real dog doesn't allow the cyberpet to take any more priority, and perhaps abandons it altogether.

C.S. Lewis wrote in The Great Divorce, that if we want heaven, we will not be able to keep the smallest souvenirs of hell. Indeed that is righteousness: being so much of God that evil can have no place at all.

Undulation

This is a word that I learnt from C.S. Lewis, in his book The Screwtape Letters. It refers to the state of alternating experiences, good and bad, peaks and troughs, joys and sorrows.

Jeremiah speaks of suffering, but he also speaks of hope. If there is another person in the Bible (with the exception of Jesus) who had much to say about suffering, it would have to be the apostle Paul. I recall the verse "Let me boast all the more about my sufferings."

A friend of mine, Sui-Jon, said recently, "The closer you are to danger, the further you are from harm." I doubt it makes much sense, but if taken to mean that we should face, rather than run from, danger, it's certainly worth considering. (NOT suggesting that the best place to hide from the discipline master is in his own office!)

The messages of hope in Jeremiah are few and far between. But when they do come, all the sufferings fade into oblivion. In the final chapters, when doom is pronounced on the nations, each nation's fate usually ends with the words, "There will come a day when God will make all things right." And that verse offsets all the doom and judgement that precedes it.

It is as though all the suffering leads/leans towards hope and redemption. It is like harmonic tension in music that calls for a resolution somewhere, somehow. Even when Paul wrote about suffering, he could say "His strength is made perfect in my weakness" and "We have these treasures in jars of clay." In the plain-ness of the ordinary, and the extremities of pain, one thing was constant: God.

The fact that he is always in control is expressed best in the Potter's House episode (which is my favourite in this book!). I remember the words in the Donut Man song of the same title, "Jeremiah go down to the potter's house, and the Lord will talk to you there"... It was almost as though God meant to surprise Jeremiah with a mystery of sorts!

In verses 5-10 of Chapter 18, God says, "In the same way this potter works his clay, I work on you... if they repent of their wicked lives, I will think twice and start over with them." If there's anything notable about clay, it is that the material is brittle. And so are we. I love the Ernest Hemingway quote, from his book 'A Farewell to Arms': "the world breaks every one, and afterward many are strong at the broken places."

I AM

I really don't know what to write about this phrase, this name of God. (Probably I couldn't write it even if there were something to write!) It just struck me each time I came across it in the book... Why does God settle for such a simple name?

Many have pointed out that it means that God never changes. And I suppose this is true. I've also noticed another thing about the name; it is something no-one and nothing else can say about themselves. To end it hanging without completing the clause (e.g. instead of something like 'I am strong' etc) is certainly weird. Why doesn't God even say "I AM GOD"? Why just "I AM"?

Maybe it's to draw such a great and awesome distinction between him and everything in existence, and a statement that he is beyond compare. Beyond all compare. This image of God, the incomparable, the all-powerful, the 'beyond all,' must have certainly been a stumbling block for those expecting the...

Messiah

For he was certainly comparable. One could say Jesus was taller than Peter, a little leaner than John... maybe less pimply than James. There was nothing special in appearance about Jesus. The one who overwhelmed Paul had nothing to overwhelm Herod. Or did he?

Jeremiah's promises of the Messiah are more subtle than Isaiah's. In retrospect, we see that. But it must have been difficult for the Jews then to understand that the Messiah would fulfill, not restore, convention. 17:27 speaks of the Sabbath. Jesus' teaching had the effect of something beyond the law: "Keep the Sabbath, not because you'd be punished for not doing so, but because all other alternatives would be downright stupid."

In 30:8, God says "I'll enter the darkness." Because of that, we can see the light; or rather, the light can see us. Jesus exposed men for who they were. There was something unsettling about this Galilean preacher, as though he weren't really from anywhere on earth. Centurions, fishermen, tax collectors, priests, prostitutes, farmers, kings and a governer, all knew this.

Elsewhere in The Great Divorce, Lewis writes that Jesus, because of his greatness, can descend further than anyone else -- even into the depths of hell. All who seek him, find him. There's no such thing as a godforsaken place, if at all a call to God arises out of it. This is the Messiah, according to Jeremiah.

Plans

And so we find that the great theme of Jeremiah can be summed up in the words of 29:11;
"I have... plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for."
God is still in charge. It must have been excruciatingly difficult for the people then to imagine that God still existed, as all traces of him seemed to have disappeared. It is Frederick Buechner who wrote, as quoted in Philip Yancey's 'Disappointment with God':

"To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness -- especially in the wilderness -- you shall love him."

As Paul would say, it is like being commanded to sing even when whipped and locked in jail. But that's exactly what he and Silas did. And the Jews were in a great wilderness at that time. Yet they were called to seek God, no less. And because God comes to us even in the wilderness, we can find him. Even if he does not appear, can we settle for anything less that a life devoted to living as though God exists?

So what if all the evidence points away from God? I believe we can do no less, than live as if he does exist. Jeremiah believed in that. Paul believed in that. We know they never got their reward on earth, and all skeptics would not believe they ever got their rewards. But what does it matter? They were changed, and they changed others. They led revolutions of the impossible. And so God, through them, made the impossible happen.