sermonboy.com

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Jeremiah 18
This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: 2 “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” 3 So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. 4 But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
5 Then the word of the Lord came to me. 6 He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?” declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel. 7 If at any time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be uprooted, torn down and destroyed, 8 and if that nation I warned repents of its evil, then I will relent and not inflict on it the disaster I had planned. 9 And if at another time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be built up and planted, 10 and if it does evil in my sight and does not obey me, then I will reconsider the good I had intended to do for it.
11 “Now therefore say to the people of Judah and those living in Jerusalem, ‘This is what the Lord says: Look! I am preparing a disaster for you and devising a plan against you. So turn from your evil ways, each one of you, and reform your ways and your actions.’


Sometimes things can only go from bad to worse.

Take, for example, the great fire of London. Today is the 350th anniversary of what is considered the worse day of the four-day disaster, the day that saw the destruction of Old St. Paul’s, and the day the fire escaped the “The City” as the walled section is called, and moved further west beyond the River Fleet.

The fire started two days earlier, on Pudding Lane, not far from London Bridge. It began in a bakery, likely the result of an untended fire. And following our theme of bad-to-worse, the fire spread quickly. It had been a dry summer, and as neighbouring houses caught fire, parish constables determined that a firebreak would be needed to save the surrounding area.

The Lord Mayor was summoned, and as the only one with the authority to demolish houses in an emergency, the way forward seemed obvious. Until, that is, various householders objected. Everyone knew that pulling down houses was one of the most effective ways to stop a fire—each parish had fire hooks for this purpose—but the Lord Mayor hesitated. At this moment he famously said that a maiden could put it out herself (I think you can guess the method). So the fire took hold.

On day two the fire spread west, consuming the commercial heart of the city, prompting a chaotic evacuation of the city. It was on day two that the famous diarist Samuel Pepys send his long-suffering wife and his gold out of the city. His diary was also sent away, while other prized possessions (including parmesan cheese) were buried in the yard.

Day three was truly the bad-to-worse day, with the imposing stone cathedral undone by the wooded scaffolding recently erected to allow for repairs. It is said that lead from the roof flowed down the street like a river, and all the goods moved to the seemingly indestructible building were destroyed that day. The fire was over by day four, owing mostly to a drop in the wind. In all, 13,200 houses were destroyed, 87 parish churches and the commercial heart of the capital.

Remarkably, only six deaths were recorded, though some modern historians question this number. And the city was rebuilt. Even as the ruins smouldered, Christoper Wren and others presented a plan to the King that would remake the disorganized city of the Middle Ages into a modern planned city akin to Paris after Haussmann. It was not to be. A recently restored monarchy understood the importance of English property rights and didn’t want to overstep.

Now, scholars of late first temple Judaism (you know who you are) will immediately see the parallel between the great fire of London and the terrible events of 586 BCE. The destruction of Solomon’s temple, at the hands of the Babylonians, had and has the same effect on Judaism and those who follow the prophetic tradition. Like the city of London, the Jerusalem temple was the nation’s centre, and it’s destruction cast a long shadow.

But that would be jumping ahead. Today we remain in that “late first temple” period, the period that belongs to the prophet Jeremiah. And the passage we heard moments ago is an import hinge moment, when we begin to understand what is truly at stake as the story of Judah unfolds.

It starts gently enough. You might say it has an inspirational quality to it, taking a simple image and suggesting that personal transformation is possible. The trip down to the potter’s house, if we ended our reading at verse six, has all the elements of a little therapy.

So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. 4 But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. 5 Then the word of the Lord came to me. 6 He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?” declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.

This kind of renewal, reshaped by a potter-God into something more acceptable, can only be a positive. Even as the scope of the reshaping extends to Israel, it still seems rather benign. We can shape up, the nation can shape up, all guided by the crafty hands of the potter.

But then things begin to turn. The potter-God will announce what may happen to the disobedient nation—“uprooted, torn down and destroyed"—and wait for a response. If the nation turns away from evil, in the sight of the Lord, then God will relent. And, of course, the opposite is true. If a nation is planted, and does evil in the sight of the Lord, then “I will reconsider the good I had intended to do for it.” It sounds bad, and it is, but then comes the worse:

11 “Now therefore say to the people of Judah and those living in Jerusalem, ‘This is what the Lord says: Look! I am preparing a disaster for you and devising a plan against you. So turn from your evil ways, each one of you, and reform your ways and your actions.’

None of this made Jeremiah very popular. Before today’s passage there are already threats against his life, and later he will be beaten. Perhaps worse he considers himself a laughingstock, and an object of public scorn. Yet the burden of prophecy remains, “a fire in his bones” that cannot be suppressed.

Despite this, Jeremiah will live to witness the destruction of the great temple, and the exile that will follow, and the dislocation that becomes a central theme of religious life. The peril of the unheeded warning will become a key theme in the life of Israel, and in our own tradition. It will become the focus of those who make repentance a personal endeavour, and it will continue to animate the common life of believers.

But since our theme is bad to worse, we should talk about the weather. August was the hottest August ever recorded in Toronto, and that’s just here. 2016 is on track to the hottest year ever recorded, with a 1.3 degree increase from pre-industrial times. We are already seeing extreme weather events, with floods and fires becoming our new reality. If there was ever a moment when we need an old-timey “repent or suffer the consequences,” this is it. And it won’t be the work of an angry God, just our continued carelessness.

So now that I’ve taken you on this bad-to-worse journey, where is the hope? We need hope, if only to see a way forward in the midst of disobedience and great peril.

Both London and Jerusalem were rebuilt. Scanning the skyline of London, all the gherkins, shards and walkie-talkies (recent buildings) only serve to underline the triumph of St. Paul’s, the most beautiful church in the world. Rooting around the ruins of old St. Paul’s, Wren identified the spot that would be beneath the great dome. Calling out to a lad nearby, seeking a stone to make the spot, the child returned with a grave stone that said RESURGAM, meaning “I shall rise again.” It is the motto of the cathedral.

In the same manner, Jerusalem was rebuilt. And when the walls were completed, and it came time to rededicate the city to the Lord, it fell to Ezra and his companions to read the word and interpret it for the people. The people cried out when they heard it, but Ezra insisted they stop their crying. Instead, they were instructed to live their lives and remember to care for the needy.

It was the great Walter Brueggemann who said “the text heard and interpreted offers the community a particular identity and vocation in the world.” Just as Jesus promised “resurgam—I shall rise again” (Mt 27.63) and the disciples spread this word to the corners of the earth, the Israelites took Ezra at his word and returned to God. The word heard and interpreted allows us to live new lives, to transform ourselves and turn away from the potential disasters that surround us.

The rebuilt city is the counter-theme to the idea of bad-to-worse. Renewing our confidence in God, turning anew to God’s way, caring for the vulnerable (including the earth itself), these are the hallmarks of the rebuilt city. May God strengthen us for this work, and guide us on the way. Amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 4:34 AM