9-15-19 Reality Check

Rev. Jay Rowland

Sunday September 15, 2019,

First Presbyterian Church, Rochester MN

 

Texts: Psalm 14 and Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28 (NRSV)

11 At that time it will be said to this people and to Jerusalem: A hot wind comes from me out of the bare heights[a] in the desert toward my poor people, not to winnow or cleanse— 12 a wind too strong for that. Now it is I who speak in judgment against them.

 

22 “For my people are foolish,

    they do not know me;

they are stupid children,

    they have no understanding.

They are skilled in doing evil,

    but do not know how to do good.”

 

23 I looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void;

    and to the heavens, and they had no light.

24 I looked on the mountains, and lo, they were quaking,

    and all the hills moved to and fro.

25 I looked, and lo, there was no one at all,

    and all the birds of the air had fled.

26 I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert,

    and all its cities were laid in ruins

    before the Lord, before his fierce anger.

 

27 For thus says the Lord: The whole land shall be a desolation; yet I will not make a full end.

 

28 Because of this the earth shall mourn,

    and the heavens above grow black;

for I have spoken, I have purposed;

    I have not relented nor will I turn back.

 

 

Reality Check

“First there was nothing. Then there was everything.”

These are the first eight words of a novel I just started reading, The Overstory by Richard Powers. His opening words reminded me of the creation story in Genesis. What a great paraphrase, I thought. First there was nothing. Then there was everything. But I had to postpone further reading of this novel in order to hang out with the prophet Jeremiah. In the passage for today, Jeremiah, if you noticed, also refers to the creation story. What I noticed as the hair stood up on the back of my neck was, I thought I was doing two presumably separate tasks, but both make intriguing allusions to the sacred essence of Creation.

Hanging out with Jeremiah, pondering this passage and his words, I was haunted by the crisis of climate change. I know the original context Jeremiah addressed, but I also hear his words speak to this generation, to this moment in history, hearing him speaking to the unprecedented threat climate change poses to undo Creation.

In every generation, the routines and demands of everyday life in the world filter what people are willing to “see” and whether or not they respond. Unlike previous generations, today we bring a news reporter’s sensibility to life in the world. We’re adept at determining the who, the what, the where and when of most any problem or crisis. But when it comes to responding to information, to understanding the implications we seem less willing or able perhaps to take action.

The prophets of Israel see life in the world differently. The prophet sees human life in the world with its problems and crises through the lens of the Creator and Creation. The prophet seeks to remove the blinders and the complacency brought on by daily routines and demands, to awaken people from conditioned complacency. Contrary to stereotype, a prophet’s “job” is not to predict the future--even if an implied result actually happens. A prophet represents God’s concern, God’s vision and God’s hope. And God’s hope is ultimately that people change, repent, allow God to save us even from ourselves.

Different prophets have their own distinctive vibe, style and technique. But one important feature most of us overlook is that the prophets all “speak” primarily in the language of poetry. I credit Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann for opening my eyes to this detail which has helped me in terms of how I hear and interpret these passages—particularly disturbing passages like we have today.

Brueggemann asserts that here in the 4th chapter, Jeremiah is engaging in “poetic invitation.” Jeremiah “does not want to change political postures … for that is not the work of the poet, but to penetrate the religious indifference … from which policy comes. Thus the language is bold and daring, without responsibility for being factually precise.” (Exile and Homecoming, A Commentary on Jeremiah, Walter Brueggemann, p.56)

In its original context, today’s passage from Jeremiah addresses the generations-long, steady decline of Israel. Particularly the impact of poor leadership from Israel’s kings, accompanied by a long-running, collective neglect of ethical and moral integrity among everyday citizens and believers. As a result, Israel has become indistinguishable from any other nation, content to live like all the other nations rather than as God’s chosen people. It’s the beginning of the end of Israel as God intended, and any hope for the world along with it.

God could tolerate open contempt for only so long. There comes a time when doing nothing or looking away only prolongs and enables the harm. The warning issued through Jeremiah invokes disturbing and harsh metaphors meant to wake up the people and leaders, … a hot wind comes from me out of the bare heights in the desert toward my poor people, not to winnow or cleanse— a wind too strong for that. Now it is I who speak in judgment against them. (Jer. 4:11-12).

The people have squandered God’s blessings and ignored God’s expectation to care for others and the earth. The hot wind is nothing less than a sign that God's anger is kindled against a people who have forgotten who they are and Whose they are,

For my people are foolish

they do not know me;

they are stupid children,

they have no understanding.

They are skilled in doing evil,

but do not know how to do good. (Jeremiah 4:22)

This is a side of God that’s difficult to accept or even acknowledge. The notion that God can be angry is challenging. And yet there it is. And in all fairness to God, to deny God the permission to feel angry seems inauthentic. It might actually be good to sit with the idea that God can be angry and still be benevolent. Brueggemann notes, “for all of God’s considerable passion and compassion, God will not be mocked.” (p52)

Jeremiah along with other prophets in other locations give the people ample warning, but their words are dismissed, ignored. Then something unthinkable happens. Jerusalem and the Temple-where God Almighty was thought to dwell!-is completely destroyed by an invading army. With the fall of Jerusalem comes the literal end of the nation of Israel, as the prophets all lamented. Jerusalem and the Temple are reduced to a pile of rubble.

Jeremiah recounts the Creation Story with which all his listeners were intimately familiar. The sin of Israel has reached a level of chaos unseen since before Creation. The world before its origins was devoid of light. Jeremiah declares that the consequences of sin are not strictly human consequences; human sin can actually disrupt the balance God established in Creation, even the delicate ecological balances which sustain all life. Because of this the earth shall mourn (v.28)

The mourning of earth is a common prophetic/poetic metaphor, Brueggemann notes. It refers to the failure of Israel’s regimes. It was understood that the “royal-temple apparatus” in God’s mind is legitimate only insofar as it preserves and shares the fullness of Creation for the good of all. “The grief (drought) bespeaks the ultimate failure of the regime to maintain the earth.” (Brueggemann, p. 61)

WOW. It’s astonishing to me how clearly Jeremiah speaks to the crisis of climate change. The world’s leaders, particularly ours, have at every level of government--local, national, and international—proven either indifferent at worst or ineffective at best. Meanwhile the atmosphere is slightly more than 400 million parts per something of CO2 gas, fueling a temperature rise in the coming decades of somewhere between two to five degrees, either Celsius or Fahrenheit, allowing for differences among climate scientists (John Holbert, A Return to Chaos? Reflections on Jeremiah, in Patheos, Sept 08, 2013). Whatever the increment, we know the consequences become more cataclysmic with time: mass population dispersion, gigantic storms, droughts and other disruptions to farming and seasons—it’s already begun.

Worst of all, the prophets would wail and lament, the people who live on the front lines of the destructive effects are the poorest and most defenseless people who have the fewest resources or options. None of this is “news.” What might be is to follow that with Jeremiah’s poetic lament alluding to Genesis,

I looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void;

and to the heavens, and they had no light.

I looked on the mountains, and lo, they were quaking,

and all the hills moved to and fro.

I looked, and lo, there was no one at all,

and all the birds of the air had fled.

I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert,

and all its cities were laid in ruins

The phrase “waste and void,” in the Hebrew tohubohu is found in only two places in the entire “Old Testament”: Genesis 1:2 (The Creation Story) and here in Jeremiah. In Genesis, tohubohu refers to primordial darkness and chaos, roaring in an endlessly vast nothingness. From that awful void God introduces "light" then all the wonders of Creation, Alleluia!! (Hebrew word exegesis is the work of John Holbert, op cit)

It is nothing short of miraculous to me how powerfully Jeremiah’s words apply to this twenty-first century crisis which would have been beyond even Jeremiah’s wildest imagination. The birds of the air, the fish of the sea, the lush vegetation, the fertile land, human life, all the wonders of Creation—all gone. Nonsense.

And yet here we are. Without concerted change, our grandchildren will be deprived of the generosity of Creation’s earth. The earth they inherit will be markedly different than the earth we now inhabit. We must all become prophets for God, challenging power with truth, convicting hearts for Creation and our Creator. For thus says the Lord: The whole land shall be a desolation; yet I will not make a full end. (Jer. 4:27)

On the brink of despair behold a word of hope shimmers. Here in this bleak verse from an even bleaker passage (and prophet): eight words shimmer and sparkle with a glimmer of hope,

… yet I will not make a full end.

Here is an easily overlooked glimpse into the very heart of God. Here we meet again the God who endlessly seeks ways to "not make a full end". Here in these eight short words stands the God who longs for us to wake up and repent, start doing good, changing our lives to show that we not only see the truth, we will act on it.

The hot wind blows upon the earth. (Holbert)

First there was nothing. Then there was everything.

O Lord, in your mercy, prevent us from ruining everything and turning it all back into nothing.