And God was furious—a wildfire anger; he couldn’t stand even to look at his people. He turned them over to the heathen so that the people who hated them ruled them. Their enemies made life hard for them; they were tyrannized under that rule. Over and over God rescued them, but they never learned— until finally their sins destroyed them.
Jeremiah 12:7The Message“I will abandon the House of Israel, walk away from my beloved people. I will turn over those I most love to those who are her enemies. She’s been, this one I held dear, like a snarling lion in the jungle, Growling and baring her teeth at me— and I can’t take it anymore. Has this one I hold dear become a preening peacock? But isn’t she under attack by vultures? Then invite all the hungry animals at large, invite them in for a free meal! Foreign, scavenging shepherds will loot and trample my fields, Turn my beautiful, well-cared-for fields into vacant lots of tin cans and thistles. They leave them littered with junk— a ruined land, a land in lament. The whole countryside is a wasteland, and no one will really care. * * * See the chapter |
23 Cross References
God, you’ve walked out on your family Jacob because their world is full of hokey religion, Philistine witchcraft, and pagan hocus-pocus, a world rolling in wealth, Stuffed with things, no end to its machines and gadgets, And gods—gods of all sorts and sizes. These people make their own gods and worship what they make. A degenerate race, facedown in the gutter. Don’t bother with them! They’re not worth forgiving!
“What business do the ones I love have figuring out how to get off the hook? And right in the house of worship! Do you think making promises and devising pious programs will save you from doom? Do you think you can get out of this by becoming more religious? A mighty oak tree, majestic and glorious— that’s how I once described you. But it will only take a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning to leave you a shattered wreck.
God, have you said your final No to Judah? Can you simply not stand Zion any longer? If not, why have you treated us like this, beaten us nearly to death? We hoped for peace— nothing good came from it; We looked for healing— and got kicked in the stomach. We admit, O God, how badly we’ve lived, and our ancestors, how bad they were. We’ve sinned, they’ve sinned, we’ve all sinned against you! Your reputation is at stake! Don’t quit on us! Don’t walk out and abandon your glorious Temple! Remember your covenant. Don’t break faith with us! Can the no-gods of the godless nations cause rain? Can the sky water the earth by itself? You’re the one, O God, who does this. So you’re the one for whom we wait. You made it all, you do it all.
“When Israel was only a child, I loved him. I called out, ‘My son!’—called him out of Egypt. But when others called him, he ran off and left me. He worshiped the popular sex gods, he played at religion with toy gods. Still, I stuck with him. I led Ephraim. I rescued him from human bondage, But he never acknowledged my help, never admitted that I was the one pulling his wagon, That I lifted him, like a baby, to my cheek, that I bent down to feed him. Now he wants to go back to Egypt or go over to Assyria— anything but return to me! That’s why his cities are unsafe—the murder rate skyrockets and every plan to improve things falls to pieces. My people are hell-bent on leaving me. They pray to god Baal for help. He doesn’t lift a finger to help them. But how can I give up on you, Ephraim? How can I turn you loose, Israel? How can I leave you to be ruined like Admah, devastated like luckless Zeboim? I can’t bear to even think such thoughts. My insides churn in protest. And so I’m not going to act on my anger. I’m not going to destroy Ephraim. And why? Because I am God and not a human. I’m The Holy One and I’m here—in your very midst.
“All their evil came out into the open at the pagan shrine at Gilgal. Oh, how I hated them there! Because of their evil practices, I’ll kick them off my land. I’m wasting no more love on them. Their leaders are a bunch of rebellious adolescents. Ephraim is hit hard— roots withered, no more fruit. Even if by some miracle they had children, the dear babies wouldn’t live—I’d make sure of that!”
Blow the ram’s horn trumpet in Zion! Declare a day of repentance, a holy fast day. Call a public meeting. Get everyone there. Consecrate the congregation. Make sure the elders come, but bring in the children, too, even the nursing babies, Even men and women on their honeymoon— interrupt them and get them there. Between Sanctuary entrance and altar, let the priests, God’s servants, weep tears of repentance. Let them intercede: “Have mercy, God, on your people! Don’t abandon your heritage to contempt. Don’t let the pagans take over and rule them and sneer, ‘And so where is this God of theirs?’” * * *
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