26 September 2010
Carolyn L Roberts
Pentecost 18C 2010
Jeremiah 32.1-15

            The word that came to Carolyn from the Lord in the third week of June, which was the second year of Obama. At that time, an undiagnosed disease was besieging her father, and he was confined in the third floor room of the hospital that was in Frederick. Then our member Sarah, of the Gove family, came to her and said, “Carolyn, the Lord, our still-speaking God, is with you.” OK–I’ll admit total poetic license with the latter part of that. Actually, what Sarah did say is more along the lines of, “Carolyn, we’ll take good care of your father.” I melted.

            I’d been looking for Sarah since my father was admitted to Frederick Memorial Hospital. Not because Sarah would give my father any special treatment, not because she might be able to give me the inside scoop on what was really going on during those days and weeks before there was any clear diagnosis of Dad’s condition, but because I knew that somehow her healing presence was an important sign to me of God’s presence. Where was God in my life? At that moment, God was there in Sarah, as well as in the other nurses and doctors who extended such care not only to my father, but also to the members of our family as we visited over that three-week period. During the siege of my father’s hospitalization and yet-to-be diagnosed condition, God was there in the prayers and calls and cards and expressions of care from family, yes, but also from the friends and members of this congregation and from the larger church.

            The siege Jeremiah writes of is a very different affair. Long before Jeremiah buys his cousin’s land, the kingdom of Israel had split in two. Israel to the north; Judah to the south. Jerusalem, located in Judah, is reeling from months of armed siege by Babylon. Some of Judah’s leaders have already been exiled to Babylon. But in an ill-advised alliance with Egypt, tiny Judah revolts against Babylon’s authority, and brings renewed warfare against the small Jewish kingdom. Now Jerusalem  is under siege for a second time in ten years, and this time, Babylon will show no mercy. Not that Babylon’s attack is unexpected. Jeremiah has been warning Judah of Babylon’s expansionism for ten years. So he’s labeled as the prophet of gloom and doom, and confined to the court of the guard at the king’s palace. Too much bad press worries the common people.

            Scholars speculate that Egypt’s armies may have diverted Babylon’s attention long enough to lift the current siege of Jerusalem at least for a short time. If this is so, many of Jerusalem’s citizens must have celebrated that God was with them after all, that God was not going to let the city of Jerusalem, that sacred city, suffer destruction and ruin. Perhaps Egypt’s diversion is when Hanamel comes to Jeremiah with a proposition: buy the family land. We can view this as a purely social/cultural action. The laws of Torah say that if your family property is headed for foreclosure, other members of the family have the right to buy your land so that the property stays in the family. That’s what Hanamel is offering Jeremiah. Jeremiah not only accepts; he does so in a very public way. The deed for the property is signed, sealed, and stored in a way that it should be accessible for a very long time. Only remember, the city of Jerusalem is under siege. And even if Egypt diverts Babylon for a short while, it’s about as effective as a dog nipping at the foot of an elephant. Within less than a year, Egypt’s armies are dispensed, and Babylon returns to Jerusalem with such force that the entire city is in ruins.

            And still, Jeremiah buys his cousin’s property. Can we write him off as a sentimentalist?–putting up the show of keeping real estate within the family, even though anyone with eyes to see knows that Judah will not control its own borders long enough to plant a single crop of wheat, a single vine of grapes. Or do we recognize, as Jeremiah does, that Hanamel is not the primary actor in this story–and for all its military prowess, neither is Babylon. Jeremiah buys his cousin’s property because he hears the word of his still-speaking God. The Jeremiah effectively under house arrest, the Jeremiah who has been scoffed at, derided, and persecuted  for his insistence that Judah has no business making alliances with Egypt, no business warring against Babylon. The Jeremiah who rages that Judah’s business should be treating its own people with justice and compassion. Where is God in Jeremiah’s miserable life? Right there where God always is–in the midst of human activity, even at its worst, reminding Jeremiah that war, even the most destructive war, does not last forever. And so God tells Jeremiah: buy your cousin’s land; it will again grow houses and crops and vineyards.

            Literally and figuratively, Jeremiah lived under siege. For me, living under siege was waiting for the diagnosis for my father, then more waiting to see if the treatment would restore his health, waiting to see what kind of participation in community and family activities would be possible after so much time in the hospital. For others, living under siege is watching a home of years go into foreclosure, watching life savings dwindle during this long recession, watching plans for retirement or college education be deferred. For one in four Americans, being under siege begins with the reality that mental illness is touching their lives or the life of a loved one.

            But Jeremiah was not alone; neither was I, neither are any of us. And if we take the time, if we allow for what Walter Brueggemann calls the prophetic imagination, we recognize within the fabric of our lives the voice of our still-speaking God. Jeremiah receives his cousin’s request for the redemption of family property and proclaims a word of hope. He tells Judah in word and in deed that God is present with us, even in the midst of disaster and suffering. Jeremiah tells Judah, and all those who are under siege, that no matter who we are or where we are on life’s journey, God is present with us, and we have a story of hope to share. Thanks be to God.