The Remnant, Shepherds, and the Righteous Branch

Jeremiah 23: 1-6

 

 

          It’s Christ the King Sunday. As holy days go, this one is pretty new. Pope Pious XI instituted it in 1925. At the time, secularism was on the rise throughout Europe. The Pope hoped that the celebration would help to remind people of the primacy of Jesus; that the authority and existence of Jesus is preeminent in our lives.  Sadly, the experiment, while a noble idea, didn’t seem to take. Less than a hundred years later, here’s a sampling of church attendance recorded in 2007: Great Britain: 27 percent, France: 21 percent, Sweden: 4 percent. America is some better at 44 percent, but realize what that says: over half of America stays home every Sunday.

          Now this is not the same as belief in God, but it is a formidable warning that the Church as we have identified it over most of the 20^th  and now 21^st Century, is in the midst of reformation at its best, and a slow but accelerating death at worst. That’s not very good news. But it should come as no surprise. The concepts of God and Jesus still have great penetration into the psyche of the 21^st century, but the Church? Well, that’s a different story.

          In the sixth century while Zedekiah was on the throne of Judah, the prophet Jeremiah spoke to the people of God. Zedekiah wasn’t such a bad guy, but during his eleven year reign he was pretty much of a puppet. In other words, the fortunes of Judah continued to spiral downward. Under his not very impressive reign, the Southern Kingdom fell to the Babylonians. In today’s passage, Jeremiah speaks to the issues of poor and corrupt leadership, to the judgment that will befall such leaders, to the remnant who are faithful, and to the restoration of righteousness through responsible leadership. If you close your eyes and listen to the Scripture without any knowledge of when it was written, you just might find a lot of relevance for where we are today.

         In the previous two chapters, God has spoken of judgment, and it is a harsh judgment indeed. But here in chapter 23, God says through Jeremiah: Woe to the leaders who destroy and scatter my people. I will deal with you. You can count on that. Then I’m bringing back those who stayed faithful. They are everywhere, but I know who they are, and I’m bringing them back. None will go missing. And when I do, I will set righteous leaders over them. They won’t have to fear any more. The days are coming, says God, when I will raise up someone, a righteous Branch of the family tree. That leader can be trusted, and my people will be saved.

          In America, many people think that a secular leader elected by the people will be our righteous leader and make us safe. Would that it were so easy! We could just elect someone and wait to be saved. It didn’t work for the people of Israel and Judah and it won’t work for us either. We, like Northern Europe, are a people educated in religion, rich in church assets from buildings to bank accounts. But that has not stopped the downward spiral of the church. The church may be the bride of Christ, but it is his people to whom he has delegated the responsibility to nurture it. Sadly, in too many instances, we Christians tend to find other interests. It has caused God himself to scatter us. And in those days as in these, leaders with the wrong agenda have aided in the bankruptcy of our morality and divided our loyalties. While it is our rebellion and rejection that exiles us, it is corrupt leaders who bring curses upon us and take us deeper into the pit of disobedience.

          Why did God promise to attend to the shepherds of the day? Because they did evil deeds. Because they were selfish and looked after themselves, ignoring what was good for the people, what was commanded by God. By the way, shepherd, as the Hebrew term was used in Scripture, commonly referred to the ruler or rulers of the time. Since the plural form is used here, it probably referred to those in positions of leadership and not just the king. And God said woe to them. Woe would have meant judgment. God is going to deal with the bad shepherds.

          But God is far from done. Not only does he promise to deal with the bad shepherds; he promises to bring his people good shepherds. He promises shepherds, leaders, who are accountable, who make us safe, who leave none of us uncounted or missing.

          The second part of this passage deals with a remnant. Not all are going to be spared. But those who have been faithful, no matter where they are, will be brought home safe to live in a way that leaves no fear. They will be the flock of the good shepherd, and they will be fruitful and multiply, the same words promised by God at the creation.

          Last, God promises a righteous Branch. His words have been interpreted as Messianic, even eschatological. The righteous Branch is a leader like no other, dealing wisely, executing justice and righteousness.  The word branch reminds us of Isaiah’s “shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots” found in Isaiah 11. Is this the same idea? Is it an earthly ruler? Is it the Messiah? Is it both? The name given by God to that leader: “The Lord is our righteousness” has connotations of not just righteousness, but also of salvation or deliverance.

          In verse 7, Jeremiah says “the days are coming.” While we have no way of knowing when from this generalization, we do know that Jeremiah is calling our attention to a solemn proclamation. God is in charge. He sees what is happening. He is taking names and he will not only hold us accountable; he will also bring judgment on those of us who lead badly and falsely. We will be delivered if we believe and obey, and we will live in harmony again.

          The thing is, we, the people. What are we doing? We, the people. We are the people of God. What are we acting like? Who are we trusting? What leaders are we raising up? Are we the 44 percent who attend the church or the 56 percent who stay home? And if we come, do we worship or whine? We, the people. Are we the remnant to whom God promises salvation? If we are, we need to show that by the way we act, by the way we trust. It is as relevant today as it was when the people of Jeremiah’s time were threatened.

          We are promised what God will do. The question is: What will we do?

Offspring of the Blessed

Isaiah 65: 17-25, 66: 1, 2

 

          Sometimes when I read Isaiah, it’s like watching the movie Back to the Future. Or maybe it’s Forward to the Past. Isaiah is thought to have lived and prophesied in the eighth century BC. This would date him around the time that the Assyrians conquered the Northern Kingdom of Israel. But Isaiah also seems to write about the Babylonians, who came over 130 years later. He also talked in Messianic terms, enough that we often quote him as predicting the coming of Jesus, which was over seven hundred years in the distance. So Isaiah covers a lot of ground. He is one, two or even three writers, depending on which commentator you are reading. It’s Back to the Future on turbo. Today’s passage is a prime example. It seems to talk about the present, the future and even the distant future.

          Isaiah is a big book, sixty six chapters, the same number, coincidentally, as the number of books in the Bible. It might help to get an overview of it before we discuss the passage for today.  Isaiah starts out talking about God’s judgment to a people who refuse to get their act together. In the sixth chapter, God seems to be saying that while hope can’t protect us from judgment, neither is judgment the final word. At least that appears to be the case for the elect, those who hear and respond to the call of God. That gives us hope. The next section of Isaiah (7-39) calls for God’s people to put their trust in their Creator rather than in the nations and the powers of the world. Beginning with chapter 40, God’s people are re-introduced to the concept of God’s unearnable grace, and chapter 49 ushers in the Suffering Servant passages which prophesy the sin offering that will come from God. We see those chapters as the foreshadowing of the coming of the Messiah. Chapter 56 begins a section in which God is seen as the powerful God who brings about change and produces righteousness in that remnant of his people who believe. That remnant speaks for God in a mighty witness to the nations who are on the outside looking in.

          So in this book, we have the promised judgment of God, tempered by the hope for those who are called, an admonishment to trust God and not the world, a re-introduction to God’s grace, a prediction of the Messianic Age, and God as the change agent to produce righteousness. It is in this last section that today’s passage appears.  It is a passage that begins and ends with hope. Even in the midst of judgment, we see the grace of God and the promise of salvation as an overarching theme.

          In this passage, God is once again Creator. He creates new heavens and a new earth. He creates a state of mind that rejoices. He creates Jerusalem as a joy and her people as a gladness. Here we see our Creator God doing so again; that is, creating again. The God of Genesis, of all that is and ever was, is re-creating, making better that which has become tarnished, making beautiful that which has become dull. It is as though he has taken out the family silver service and polished it all new. It shines and is ready for service once more.

          We are re-introduced here to a premise that prevails throughout the Bible—that we can’t get there from here. That is, we can’t get to heaven on our own devices. We need divine enabling. John Oswalt puts in this way: “How will humans ever be able to live the righteousness of God, to be the evidence to the nations that he alone is God? Only in one way: if God himself intervenes and exercises his creative power to remake us and our world.” We hear this over and over. For instance, in Romans, Paul reminds us that all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory (3:23). Wecan’t do it on our own.

          I think about the upheaval in the American political process that we have just witnessed. The American people spoke rather clearly recently. What I heard us saying most loudly was that we are fed up with a government that argues rather than functions. We are fed up with their pontificating and blaming. We want leadership that considers us, that honors all instead of the privileged few. We are looking for if not a new creation, then at least a re-engineered creation. Doesn’t that remind you of what God is saying here in Isaiah. He creates new heavens and a new earth.

          But look at what else God says. He doesn’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. He takes what is good and re-tools it. He takes a righteous remnant and re-crafts it to be splendid and beautiful again. He promises fullness of life.  No more shall babies be taken prematurely by a world full of broken people where sin prevails, where men and women lead lives of quiet desperation. God means for his people to lead long lives, humble and contrite in spirit.No more laboring in vain or bringing children into a world which functions poorly. For those who are called, that is, those who believe, who trust, they will be answered before they can even call. They and their descendants will be the offspring of the blessed of the Lord (v.23).

          There are several ways to read this passage. A new heaven and earth are promised elsewhere in Scripture. The book of Revelation speaks of a new heaven and a new earth. It speaks of a New Jerusalem at the close of the age, where God reigns and sin is no more. This is the New Jerusalem of the end times. 2 Peter talks about a new heaven and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. Whenever we read about the Day of the Lord, we cannot ignore judgment. Destruction of the wicked, of sin, is part of that final judgment. But to see that and nothing more is to miss the blessing that is the ultimate glory of God, for he has promised us something new and bright and beautiful and perfect.

          So when I read this passage, I can’t help but see Isaiah reminding us of God’s promises—promises of something new and wonderful, and not just in the end times. Isaiah talks about things of the future, but there is enough in his references to make it clear that he is thinking on more than one level. And one of those levels is the here and now, the immediate future. We are not relegated only to wait for a distant day. We are also called to transform our present.

          We Americans are struggling right now to redefine who we are. We are an inclusive people, but we have fears of what that may bring. American means something more than geography It means a way of life, a path to freedom, a recognition of individual rights and an acknowledgment of fundamental fairness. Today, we are here to worship God and to celebrate a truly American tradition of Thanksgiving. The whole idea of the holiday stems from people determined to start anew and to make something beautiful in a new land.

          So this Thanksgiving, we are on the horns looking at how we elect our leaders, even how we govern ourselves. We may be at the threshold of something new. In the days of Isaiah, the prophet predicted a time when the geography of our world was to be a joy, a New Jerusalem. He prophesied a time when the people of our world would be a gladness.  We take hope, as did the prophet, in God’s promise that he is still creating, still calling. Why not take this wonderful creation he gave us—and transform it into something new? That’s what God intends for us. He has given us his word to guide us. May we continue to tremble at it as we build our lives around it. We have already been commissioned. It’s time to get back to work—for God.

Sojourning

Exodus 2: 21-22,     Hebrews 11: 8-16

 

          You know, the Bible is loaded with sojourners. Sojourners are people who are only staying temporarily. They consider their home to be another place. Noah was a big time sojourner. He was never really home even in his home country. One day, he sailed away in an ark and landed in a new world where he was asked to repopulate it with his extended family. Abraham was a major league sojourner. God asked him to pick up everything and start going. He didn’t even know his destination when he left. I suppose my daughter Emily is a kind of sojourner. She has spent almost a decade in Africa, but in at least three different countries. Now she’s been gone so long, she’s a sojourner even when she comes back home. I guess she’s a long term temporary.

          In the second chapter of the book of Exodus, we find Moses has killed an Egyptian and has fled from Egypt for his safety. He travels to the land of Midian. It’s not clear how far away that was from Egypt, but it was far away enough to be safe. There, Moses befriends Jethro, the priest of Midian. The scripture says that Moses was content to dwell there and that Jethro gave Moses his daughter Zipporah to Moses in marriage. They had a son and named him Gershom, which means “stranger there.” Moses said he gave his son that name because “I have been a sojourner in a foreign land.” Though Moses stayed in Midian for fifty years before he returned to Egypt, one gets the feeling that Midian was still to Moses a foreign land.

          The book of Hebrews also talks about sojourning. We know chapter 11 as the great hall of faith, where the pastor writer offers a list of notable faith warriors down through the ages. But the writer is about much more here than giving us a hall of heroes. He wants us to understand about faith…and perseverance in that faith. I say pastor because that’s the way I have come to see the book of Hebrews. It speaks to me as if I am listening to a carefully and caringly crafted sermon, although much longer than the ones you hear from me. We don’t really know who wrote it. Paul or Barnabas have often been given credit, but the writing style differs from that of Paul enough to cause substantial doubt about that authorship. So we don’t know.  I will call him the pastor.

          The pastor talks about Abraham’s call to a place. It is the place where he was to receive his inheritance. By using the word place, the writer seems to be pointing us not to a physical address, but more to an eternal dwelling place. We know he went to the land of Canaan; the place the pastor calls the land of promise. But notice how he lived. The pastor tells us that Abraham lived as in a foreign land, in tents. Now many of you folks are people of the land. Even if you don’t farm anymore, you live on family land here in the eastern Sandhills of South Carolina. The land has been your sustenance for generations. Even now, as brothers and sisters die, you make efforts to buy their share of the land to preserve that inheritance. The land has been and remains part of your identity, so much so that many of you commute for long distance to jobs in more populated areas, yet choose not to move closer to your work.

          Compare your feelings for your family land to that of Abraham. You build houses and barns. Abraham raised his family on the move. You put down roots. Abraham put down tent stakes. Even though he was called, and called to a place, Hebrews says that he and his son Isaac and then his grandson Jacob, lived as in a foreign land. Why? The writer of Hebrews gives us the answer. He says that they were looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God [v.10].

          In verse 13, the pastor talks about these generations of God’s people dying, not having received the things promised. And yet they had received God’s promise, hadn’t they? Abraham was promised land, and he went to and settled in a new land, a land rich with blessings for him and his family. Abraham was promised seed, and certainly he was blessed with that, as Jacob gave his grandfather twelve sons.  And yet, Hebrews says that the promise was not received. The writer of Hebrews is pointing out to us that the promise, the real promise of God, is not land, but rather that heavenly city whose designer and builder is God. He was talking about something that you can’t see or touch, but that is more real than all the dirt in the Carolina Sandhills.

          This is why the pastor of Hebrews refers to these faithful as sojourners. He says that they acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. They had seen the promise, but only from afar. Now if the inheritance were as simple as the land, then these people would either have gone back home or they would have made their new land their home. But that is not the promise to which God refers. God calls us to that which lives in our hearts, a place where all longing is forever satisfied. The writer of Hebrews put it this way in verse 16: “But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one.  Therefor God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.”  

          There is a price to pay for this kind of faith. We are never going to be completely at home where we live on this earth. We who call on God as our Lord and Savior live our lives with a different point of reference.  Theologian Gareth Cockerill says it this way: “By deciding to journey toward the eternal ‘City’ in answer to God’s call, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob chose to be strangers and aliens in the unbelieving society of this world.” The end result for the Christian is that he or she is going to be accorded a sort of “alien” status right in the middle of what we call home. Should we really be surprised? Jesus himself was run out of his home town, saying that “no prophet is acceptable in his home town.” If we are going to seek residence in that eternal city, our pilgrimage must start here and now, and it will be met in some quarters with hostility; in others, downright contempt.

         It seems to me that what all these passages are pointing to is that while we all come to know that life is a journey, what we have to figure out is the path for that journey. There is a vast difference between pilgrims and wanderers. We have all met wanderers. They are interesting people. They often have been many places and seen many things. But usually, their stories have a common thread. They are aimless in their wanderings and have no more reason to go to the next place than to stay at the one where they are.

          Pilgrims are a different sort of folk. Their journey has purpose. They are seeking something which will bind the threads of their life together in purpose. Noah and Abraham and Moses and all of our biblical sojourners are an example not of wanderers, but of pilgrims. We are reminded at the beginning of this Thanksgiving season that our American heritage points to the pilgrims of the Mayflower. They left their homes with a purpose. They sought a new land to practice that in which they believed. Invariably, pilgrims are going to find themselves sojourning in a place for a time on the way to their real destination. Such is the way of the Christian.         

          Growing up, my sister and brother and I used to play the board game Monopoly on rainy days. I remember that on one corner of the board, there is a square that is the jail. The whole center of that corner is a jail cell with a guy behind bars. If you drew a “Go to Jail” card, then that’s where you went for a while. But if you just landed on the square, there were edges, margins, all around it, that said “Just Visiting.” That was fine. If you were “just visiting,” you could move on without being held back. Just visiting on that Monopoly board is sort of like what I’m trying to describe here about life as a Christian.

          We are in a very real sense, sojourners in a foreign land, the land of the already but not yet. Jesus has come. We know the gospel.  We can see the way to salvation. This is the province of the already. But he sits at the right hand of God, not yet ready to close the age, not yet willing to end his loving pursuit of each and every one of us. This is the land of the not yet.  So we press on toward the mark of that upward call. And in the meantime, we persevere. We do not build our permanent homes in this world. We are sojourners, living for that heavenly city he promised.