In Jeremiah 32:1 we find ourselves in “the tenth year of King Zedekiah of Judah”, and a time when the people certainly faced a desperate situation. In 597 Nebuchadrezzar had taken many of the city’s leaders prisoner. The Babylonians then did what often happened in such circumstances. They found a local who would like the elevation to power and stay loyal to them in order to keep their position. In this case it is Jehoiachin’s uncle, Mattaniah, who becomes the puppet king and just to emphasise their control, they give him a new name, Zedekiah.
Zedekiah’s reign lasted for eleven years but, towards the end of that time, he, rather foolhardily, allowed himself to be persuaded to rebel against the Babylonians.
Unsurprisingly the Babylonians quickly came and laid siege to the city, providing a pretty uncomfortable environment with the threat of food running out. Jeremiah had been busily proclaiming the doom of the city because of its evil ways, not a message that anyone wanted to hear. But now, just as the siege seems to be reaching its end and everyone else is liquidising their assets because they are so sure that the city is going to fall into Babylonian hands, Jeremiah again goes in the opposite direction from everyone else and invests in a piece of real estate. What is going on here, as Jeremiah buys this field, is just not an economic, legal process, though it is that. But it is also a theological process. The trio of “houses, fields and vineyards” represent the common and characteristic elements of economic life. The affirmation is that these “shall again be bought in this land”. The use of “again” suggests, even confirms, that there is going to be a pause in this economic activity. The invasion will indeed have such an effect. But the invasion will not have the last word. The community will begin to function again and, when that happens, Jeremiah will have staked out for himself a crucial corner. What Jeremiah is doing is a clear statement of hope and of confidence in the promise of God. Brueggemann sums up what is implied here in his commentary on Jeremiah – “In the exercise of family economic responsibility, the prophet enacts the long-term fidelity of God as well. Jeremiah invests in God’s promised future exactly when that future seems completely closed off.”
What can happen does and we need to leave the rest to God. Maybe that provides a model for being church. The story is a bit improbable. I was first really introduced to Jeremiah by Robert Carroll when studying at Glasgow University in the mid to late seventies. In his major commentary on Jeremiah, Carroll, a little cynically, but rather typically, points out – “It would be pointless to speculate on Jeremiah the man of means and property because the tradition provides no hints as to how someone so universally spoken against could also be so well appointed as to buy land with silver on the spur of the moment. The paradigmatic prophet is always adequately equipped and furnished, no matter what the emergency.” But maybe we ought to be grateful for the insight that we ought to be ready to tackle the improbable. And Carroll ends up with the same conclusion as Brueggemann – “the prophet’s action will one day, a long time from now, create Judah’s future because it is the first purchase of land in and for that future.”
Saturday, 10 January 2009
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Gardening Lessons - John 15:1-10
I am no Alan Titchmarsh, so I have to be careful what I say – but I do think the image of the gardener has much to convey to us. Jesus lived and moved in vine country. Grapes were a major crop. The ground was carefully prepared and the vines were planted in rows on sunny hill tops. The vines were pruned in spring and then the grapes grew and ripened. The owner would build a wall round the vineyard and a watch tower to look out for animals and thieves.
The vine and the grapes it produced became a symbol of the good land that God had promised His people – though it is also true to say that this image is often used in the Old Testament to depict the failure of the people and their inability to live up to all that God expected of them. The people are, for example, described in Isaiah 5:2 as yielding only wild grapes. By contrast, Jesus is the genuine, or true, vine.
I want to suggest four things from this image that may help us reflect on the renewal of covenant.
First, I want to think about is the importance of preparation. The gardener who does not make appropriate preparations will soon find the beauty of the garden transforming into a wilderness. We need to plan what we are doing, and prepare for it. We need to have the right seeds, the right tools, to have prepared the ground in the right way. So we need to prepare to adequately do those things that God calls us to do.
The second point to make is to do with pruning. Verse 2 – He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. Every gardener knows the value and the importance of pruning.
I believe it’s important to apply this idea to our lives. Too often we ignore the gardener’s pruning technique. Instead, our lives are more like expanding collections. We only add things on. We never do away with anything. But it is better to do a few things well, than to be struggling to do loads of things, all of them totally ineffectively. We all need to look and discover where God would have us prune our lives. God sometimes calls us to new things, and we need to be ready for that call. But he also calls us to give up things, and we need to be ready for that call also.
The key for determining such things lies in our third point, and that is that we must remain united to Jesus. Verses 4 and 5 – Abide in me, as I abide in you. … I am the vine, you are the branches. The branch, cut from the vine, will wither and die. Similarly, we will not survive as we should on our own. As there is no branch without the vine, there is no Christianity without Christ.
And this brings us to our final point which concerns the results of living life in such a way. Verse 5 – Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. This is the promise – and this is the challenge – to bear fruit. The purpose of the vine is to produce grapes. That’s what it’s there for. In a similar way, we are to bear fruit. Fruitfulness, in effect, is the goal of discipleship.
The vine and the grapes it produced became a symbol of the good land that God had promised His people – though it is also true to say that this image is often used in the Old Testament to depict the failure of the people and their inability to live up to all that God expected of them. The people are, for example, described in Isaiah 5:2 as yielding only wild grapes. By contrast, Jesus is the genuine, or true, vine.
I want to suggest four things from this image that may help us reflect on the renewal of covenant.
First, I want to think about is the importance of preparation. The gardener who does not make appropriate preparations will soon find the beauty of the garden transforming into a wilderness. We need to plan what we are doing, and prepare for it. We need to have the right seeds, the right tools, to have prepared the ground in the right way. So we need to prepare to adequately do those things that God calls us to do.
The second point to make is to do with pruning. Verse 2 – He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. Every gardener knows the value and the importance of pruning.
I believe it’s important to apply this idea to our lives. Too often we ignore the gardener’s pruning technique. Instead, our lives are more like expanding collections. We only add things on. We never do away with anything. But it is better to do a few things well, than to be struggling to do loads of things, all of them totally ineffectively. We all need to look and discover where God would have us prune our lives. God sometimes calls us to new things, and we need to be ready for that call. But he also calls us to give up things, and we need to be ready for that call also.
The key for determining such things lies in our third point, and that is that we must remain united to Jesus. Verses 4 and 5 – Abide in me, as I abide in you. … I am the vine, you are the branches. The branch, cut from the vine, will wither and die. Similarly, we will not survive as we should on our own. As there is no branch without the vine, there is no Christianity without Christ.
And this brings us to our final point which concerns the results of living life in such a way. Verse 5 – Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. This is the promise – and this is the challenge – to bear fruit. The purpose of the vine is to produce grapes. That’s what it’s there for. In a similar way, we are to bear fruit. Fruitfulness, in effect, is the goal of discipleship.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Let my people go - Exodus 9
Let my people go - Exodus 9, verse 1. That's a cry that has been echoed many times down through history. Let my people go! History, sadly, is full of stories of oppression. It's not something that goes away. Today, in Zimbabwe and Burma, for example, the same cry is all too relevant - let my people go.
In this Old Testament passage we are in the middle of the plagues. The whole story of exodus, as the very name of the book suggests, is about liberation, freedom, moving on. That is what the victimised people of Israel are looking to do at this point. The Egyptians, in whose land they currently live, have got them in a corner. Their working and living conditions are terrible. Something has to give. They are not going to survive if things don't change. And the glimmer of hope is that God has sent them a champion, a leader, someone to deliver them from this dreadful situation. Moses is locked in negotiations with Pharaoh and, from time to time, it looks as though they are about to achieve a breakthrough. But each time they get to the brink of freedom, it is grabbed back. The Pharaoh is in a difficult situation. He wants rid of them - because he thinks that they constitute a threat. But he is also a long way from being willing to give up the benefits of this source of cheap labour.
Thus we have this story of the plagues, the attempt to persuade Pharaoh that it really is time to allow the Israelites to move on and all these horrible and terrible things happen to the Egyptian people. There are ten plagues in all. This is number five - so it is right in the middle. This plague strikes the domestic animals of the Egyptians with an unidentifiable, but lethal, disease. This could be anthrax, or even something like mad cow disease. It may even have been the result, in part, of the previous plagues, which had caused disruption to the natural cycle. Domestic animals were essential to the livelihood of the people - and there is no doubt that this was a major blow.
All the plagues were major blows, but each only caused Pharaoh to hesitate in exercising jurisdiction over the enslaved Israelites. Then, realising the implications of the loss of a labour force, and, presumably, quickly forgetting the impact of the various plagues, his mind is changed and the permission to go withdrawn. Let my people go.
However, it is interesting to allow this passage to challenge us and to consider how it may speak to us, perhaps asking questions like: How do we exercise the power that we have? How do we respond to others in the world around us? How do we treat those who are marginalised by others?
In this Old Testament passage we are in the middle of the plagues. The whole story of exodus, as the very name of the book suggests, is about liberation, freedom, moving on. That is what the victimised people of Israel are looking to do at this point. The Egyptians, in whose land they currently live, have got them in a corner. Their working and living conditions are terrible. Something has to give. They are not going to survive if things don't change. And the glimmer of hope is that God has sent them a champion, a leader, someone to deliver them from this dreadful situation. Moses is locked in negotiations with Pharaoh and, from time to time, it looks as though they are about to achieve a breakthrough. But each time they get to the brink of freedom, it is grabbed back. The Pharaoh is in a difficult situation. He wants rid of them - because he thinks that they constitute a threat. But he is also a long way from being willing to give up the benefits of this source of cheap labour.
Thus we have this story of the plagues, the attempt to persuade Pharaoh that it really is time to allow the Israelites to move on and all these horrible and terrible things happen to the Egyptian people. There are ten plagues in all. This is number five - so it is right in the middle. This plague strikes the domestic animals of the Egyptians with an unidentifiable, but lethal, disease. This could be anthrax, or even something like mad cow disease. It may even have been the result, in part, of the previous plagues, which had caused disruption to the natural cycle. Domestic animals were essential to the livelihood of the people - and there is no doubt that this was a major blow.
All the plagues were major blows, but each only caused Pharaoh to hesitate in exercising jurisdiction over the enslaved Israelites. Then, realising the implications of the loss of a labour force, and, presumably, quickly forgetting the impact of the various plagues, his mind is changed and the permission to go withdrawn. Let my people go.
However, it is interesting to allow this passage to challenge us and to consider how it may speak to us, perhaps asking questions like: How do we exercise the power that we have? How do we respond to others in the world around us? How do we treat those who are marginalised by others?
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