Jeremiah 26:1-15
Lent 3 Oculi
March 4, 2018
Zion Lutheran Church + Nampa, ID
Pious King Josiah had died. Johoahaz had ruled only three months, and now wicked Johaikim sat on the throne of King David. In the early years of his reign, the Lord commanded His prophet Jeremiah to go the temple court and preach to the Jews there. Jeremiah, the iron prophet, had one charge, and one charge only: to speak God’s Word to God’s people. The purpose was simply this: that the people of God would repent, that they would turn from their evil ways and not bring disaster upon themselves because of their evil deeds. Repenting from their evil, they might receive the blessing of God, that is, forgiveness of their sins, life, and salvation.
Now, one might hope that when the Law of God demands repentance from God’s people that they would actually repent. Not so much in this case. For Jeremiah’s faithful proclamation, his arrested and tried for treason. The people not only protest the Lord’s message, but also His messenger, and they cry for his blood. “This man deserves the sentence of death, because he has prophesied against this city, as you have heard with your own ears” (Jeremiah 26:11).
But it was not yet time for Jeremiah’s blessed death. When challenged, he does not back down or apologize or wiggle his way out of a serious, and potentially deadly, situation. His defense is simply this, “The Lord sent me to prophesy…” His authority comes only from the Lord, as do His words.
As for Jeremiah, they may do with him as they please. He is ready to die. Yet to sentence him to death would be murder, and his blood would be would upon them. Would that all God’s pastors, all God’s people, act the same when they are faced with persecution. Whether they stand firm in their faithfulness of not, there is One who shed innocent blood so the wayward and lost, the stumbling and stricken, the proud and the arrogant would repent of their sin and that sin might be forgiven. Jeremiah’s situation foreshadows the Christ. It will not in too many more weeks that we hear again words that ring out throughout all history, such as in Matthew 27:25, Pilate relents to the murderous crowd crying for Jesus to be crucified, the people answered Pilate, “His blood be on us and on our children.” Innocent blood was shed, and by His blood we are healed. By His blood, the good, the right, the mending of soulds and lives takes place.
The Lord still sends His messengers with a word from the Lord, to proclaim not the opinions and works of man, but the work of Christ. He places pastors in the pulpit and in the lives of His people with the same message of repentance and faith. Repent of your sinfulness, of your stubbornness against the Lord, of your treating God’s Word and His pastors as something placed in your lives to speak peace, even when there is no peace. And I get it, you think of yourself as not bad, at least not as bad as rebellious Judah. But you are no different. You have the same sinful heart, the same sinful pride, the same reluctance to hear and obey God’s Word, and your sin deserves the same disaster.
So people of God, repent. Mend your ways and your deeds and obey the voice of the Lord your God. Jeremiah’s Hebrew word here translated “mend” is very difficult to put into English. KJV translates it as amend, or to make amends. There is no doubt that this is part of a Chirstian’s life of repentance and faith. The idea is to make something good. So we might say that somebody “made good” on a promise. If something goes wrong with a product or service we’ve purchased, we just want them to “make it right,” to put things right.
There are things we’ve done that cannot be undone. And much suffering in this life comes from the memory of things that cannot be put right. Our failure to act, to speak, often cannot be remedied. The moment has passed, we failed our neighbor, and now nothing can be done. Amends cannot truly be made, we have lost the power to make it good, make it right.
Perhaps even worse is living with the sins committed against you. Your father abused you. Your mother mistreated you. Your wife left you. You were taken advantage of sexually, or emotionally. Someone used you for a time to gain influence or money, then discarded you when a better opportunity came along. Someone made a promise and then didn’t even try to keep it. A kid laughed at you on the playground and it still hurts, decades later. You get accused of a horrible deed or having a wicked motivation, and it ruins your day or maybe your year.
“Mend your ways and your deeds,” says the Lord, and we try. We maybe even succeed, a little. We get back to praying and reading the Bible. We try again to be nice, we renew our commitment to giving an offering from our firstfruits rather than our leftovers, we hold our tongue a little better, calm down a little before answering that email, avert our eyes from the forbidden image instead of worshiping what the LORD has withheld.
“Mend your ways and your deeds,” says the LORD, but we can’t mend them – not all the way. We can’t mend them to perfection, as the Lord says, “Be perfect.” We can’t mend them to holiness, as the Lord says, “Be holy.” We can’t mend them to the point of turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, loving our enemies, praying for our slanderers, giving thanks to God when things are at their worst.
And we can’t mend the ways and deeds of others that have harmed us. We can’t mend the broken bones and broken hearts that we’ve suffered. We cannot repair the damage to our reputation, the failures of our upbringing, the problems of others. No, we cannot make amends, not all the way, not what’s needed.
This is why our Lord Jesus comes. The language of the Gospel gives a picture of our condition: we are imprisoned in the fortress of a strong man. A tyrant rules, the devil, and there is peace, but it is a peace that permits no freedom, not truth, no permanence. There is no escape from this strong man. He is fully armed with accusations about your sinfulness, guarding his own. But into that hell comes One stronger than the strong man. He overcomes the devil, He takes away the accusations, and takes broken people as His spoil so that He might mend the broken heart, the broken life, the broken world. He drives the demons away and brings the Kingdom of God.
Nowhere else is this more clearly exhibited than in your Baptism. Through that Baptism, Christ Himself says to the unclean spirit, “Depart! Make way for the Holy Spirit.” By that Baptism He removes the guilt of sin and fills the child of God with His Spirit, with His grace, with His love. Then He takes that child, still broken in body and soul but now in the hospital of the Church – He takes the broken human being and says, “Come, follow Me, follow Me to the cross, to the grave, to Easter” where all things are mended, are made good and right and true.
That’s the journey we are on during Lent, in fact, during our whole Christian life. We follow Jesus, the mender of all things, the one who mends the ways and doings of sinful humanity. During this journey, we will seek to imitate Him by mending our own ways and doings. Walking in love, seeking forgiveness from those we’ve hurt. Forgiving those who have hurt us. Not having sexual immorality or impurity or covetousness or foolish talk or crude joking even be named among us. Doing what is proper as children of light, as saints, not sinners, though we struggle being both this side of glory.
Come now, you who are forgiven by Christ, come to His table to feast on His body and blood, for here He continues to mend you, and so mend also your ways and your deeds.
*Some of this sermon was adapted from a sermon by Pr. Christopher Esget, http://www.esgetology.com/2013/03/03/sermo-dei-oculi-lent-iii