Proper 23

For most of the problems and hurdles of life, there are no quick fixes.

Need to lose 15 pounds? It won’t be fast. Need to find a new six-figure job? It won’t be easy. Need a plumber to install a toilet? It won’t be fast or easy — and it won’t be cheap.

You may have seen a complete home renovation happen on TV in under 30 minutes — pausing only for a commercial about the latest flexible miracle tape. But chances are that a rapid-response team isn’t going to show up on your doorstep to offer a quick solution for most of life’s conundrums.

When I was growing up at 40 Glendale Street in Nutley, New Jersey, there was one bathroom in the little house that I shared with my parents and brother. And that bathroom was the one project my father never had time to complete. You see, after he bought the house in 1957, he put in new drywall in the bathroom and spackled it – but that was it.  He never got around to the next step. That meant that he was unable to install a shower head above the tub, because you can’t have a shower splashing water on bare drywall. Which meant that the Reeses could only take baths. No showers for us.  Just hot baths – even in the middle of summer. This “temporary” bathroom set-up went on until I was 16 years old.

Sometimes we’re forced to live in the “in between,” or “meantime,” periods of life — those years when we’re waiting for circumstances to change or be altered, knowing that, perhaps, they might never change.

That’s how many of the people south of us feel right now, as they struggle to get back on their feet after the wrath of Ian.  Damaged and destroyed homes. No power. No water. And things won’t be getting much better anytime soon.

That was the bleak future awaiting the Israelites who had been exiled from their homeland in 606-586 B.C. It was in these years that their nation had ceased to exist. The glory years of Saul, David, and Solomon were now only shop-worn tales told by bearded scribes and hoary elders. There was no Israel now. No Judah. No nothing.

But the critical piece in today’s Old Testament lesson is the fact that the Hebrews were in exile because God moved them into exile. This being the case, the prophet Jeremiah says stay where you are. Don’t plan on moving; don’t start packing until God sends some moving trucks.

If we are where we are because God has led us, pushed us or dragged us, then we better stay put until otherwise notified. If, on the other hand, we got into our present muck up without any help from God, then we might need God to un-muck it. God might do this when God is good and ready.

This is not encouraging. In other words, there’s no quick fix here. No Instant Pots, instant coffee, Instagram, instant gratification or instant messaging. The expatriate pilgrims of Babylon quickly learned to embrace the wisdom of Psalm 90: “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past,” (v. 4), which was revised centuries later to read, “With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day” (2 Peter 3:8).

So, Jeremiah’s advice to the Jewish expats — and by extension to us — is to do two things. First, decide if we’re “here” (wherever “here” is) by the will of God; and second, if so, settle into a life as though we’re here for life — or until God moves us on.Jeremiah’s counsel is that in life, the circumstances in which we find ourselves are not always amenable to an easy solution. It might be best to adapt to your surroundings and adjust to make life bearable.

This does not mean you compromise your faith, but that you’re willing totake the long view. This problem, this situation, this context, is here to stay for the indefinite future. When I find myself in a new place, new life, new experience, I had better decide how I can live a meaningful life within the situation, rather than outside of the situation.

The theme, then, is how to live when you’re an exile, or when you feel like an exile.

Jeremiah was the first theologian who spoke before the exile and during the exile as one of the exiled. Although Jeremiah had not yet made the trip from Jerusalem to Babylon, he would eventually. But before he’s trundled off to exile, he writes a letter. It’s part of today’s lesson: “These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon” (v. 1).

This is from the prophet himself. And his advice is very practical. There are no platitudes in this letter. No theological speculation. Instead, Jeremiah responds to a similar question posed by the British punk rock band, The Clash, in their 1982 hit, “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” Jeremiah answers in terms of dollars and cents, of marriage and family, of houses and farms. Bottom line: the exiled community must get a grip and get a life, face the harsh facts and begin a major adjustment, he says.

• They might wish they still had the temple. But they don’t.
• They might wish they still lived within the walls of Jerusalem. But they don’t.
• They might wish they could still drink the wine of their own vineyards. But they can’t.
• They might wish they could sing their songs in Judah, but they can’t.

Jeremiah tells them they must build a bridge and get over it. The destination has changed. Getting “home” will not happen for another 70 years minimum. For now, Babylon is the destination. Like the sign says in the mall, “You are here!” Don’t move unless God moves — and by the way, God is not moving … yet. Your Jewishness is not tied to a location. You can still be a people of the book, a people of faith, a people of your religious traditions, wherever you are.

The first thing any family might do before moving to a new part of the country is arrange for housing. This is probably done before you ever set your trip odometer and head out on the interstate. You need a place for you and your family to reside.

Jeremiah says, “Build a house.” He’s doing more than offering practical advice. He’s reinforcing the message that three generations of families are going to live in Babylon. This is the context of your new life.

In your house, you will cook kosher, sleep, and take care of the dog. You will take singing lessons, study and memorize the Torah, and go to Torah school.

And you will pay your way. The government may offer you some jobs, probably manual labor. You will plant gardens, do some farming. You need to make a living.

You will have babies. “Multiply there, and do not decrease” (v. 6). You will sing songs and find husbands for your daughters and brides for your sons.

Jeremiah notes that “If your host city prospers, you prosper. Therefore, pray for its success.” His exact words are: “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (v. 7).

The apostle Peter also wrote to a beleaguered community — the diaspora, groups of exiles and expats in the first century. They, too, needed encouragement. They were living in all parts of the Roman Empire, including Rome, which the apostle John refers to asBabylon. Peter writes:“Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds” (1 Peter 2:11). Sounds a lot like Jeremiah’s advice.

A whole lot of Floridians are facing their own exile right now.  Jeremiah would want them to know that, although life will certainly be different and they may be in exile for years to come, God will still be with them.

And remember this: Gratitude is how faith responds in remembering God’s faithfulness in the past; hope is how faith responds in trusting God’s faithfulness in the future.