Jr 45
26 September 2004
“Pity Party”
Has anyone ever heard the term that I’m using for my sermon title? “Pity party” is yet another of the verbal nuggets that my mom implanted in my brain as a child. It was one of her favorite responses when I was pouting—when I was sulking—about something. “You want to have a pity party?” Not that she was dismissive of her son’s concerns, you understand, but sometimes…one must adopt certain perspectives.
Our Old Testament reading, Jeremiah 45, sounds almost like a divine refusal to host a pity party. Our person of interest is Baruch. From what’s revealed in the Bible, he’s one of Jeremiah’s few true friends. His name means “blessed.”
The date we’re given, the fourth year of King Jehoiakim’s reign (about 605 B.C.E.), links this with chapter 36, in which Baruch becomes Jeremiah’s scribe, his secretary. If the date is accurate, that would be about twenty years earlier than the previous chapter, 44. If you read straight through the book of Jeremiah, you’ll notice that it is not arranged in strict chronological order!
When verse 1 mentions that Baruch has written what it calls “these words in a scroll at the dictation of Jeremiah,” it’s no doubt the scroll of chapter 36 that’s intended. This scroll, which contains Jeremiah’s prophecies, is read aloud by Baruch in the temple. Stay with me now—there’s some real drama going on here!
Hearing these words and understanding their seriousness—their gravity—the king’s officials bring the scroll to him. That is, not before they warn Baruch that he and the prophet need to go into hiding somewhere. They know that these are dangerous words. When the scroll is read to Jehoiakim, he simply takes it, shreds it, and throws it into the fire where he’s been warming himself. While security officers look to arrest them, Jeremiah dictates another scroll to Baruch.
Today’s reading shows God responding to some complaining that Baruch has done. Along with everything else, the scribe seems to have learned from the prophet the art of lamentation. What is it that prompts Baruch to consider his life to be one of “woe,” “sorrow [added] to…pain,” and in which he finds “no rest” (v. 3)?
Well, here’s a wild guess, just a shot in the dark. Maybe the prospect of his country being invaded by a brutal Babylonian army has him down in the dumps! You know, there’s nothing like the expectation of seeing your home town go up in flames to really mess up your day!
But there is more. Verse 5 clues us in that Baruch would “seek great things for [himself].” We might understand if he felt entitled to do so. He’s had to share the heat that’s been directed at his friend, Jeremiah. I wonder if there weren’t times when he thought to himself, “Maybe I should just cut my ties to this guy. Is this relationship worth the trouble?” (Probably not!)
Baruch is even accused of treason in chapter 43 (and if that’s in the future, he will be accused). Whatever the case, there’s little question that hanging out with Jeremiah hasn’t been especially beneficial to his career, or to his social standing, or to his health. Maybe we can understand why he feels that sorrow and pain have been his lot in life.
John Calvin would have us believe that Baruch is a selfish opportunist. The historian John Bright suggests that Baruch, obviously being a well-educated man, fears a dramatic loss of position in this uncertain political climate.
I have an idea. It’s probably not original with me, but this is my suggestion: Baruch is every one of us when faced with the prospect of a painful, and possibly violent, future.
I don’t know if any of you here have ever had this question posed to you, but sometimes people ask, “Are you willing to suffer for Jesus Christ?” Some folks immediately say “yes!” I’m a little more reluctant to answer that question. I haven’t spent time in the prison of a corrupt government that considers proclaiming the gospel of Christ to be a crime against the state. I haven’t even had to face the ridicule of others because of my faith (at least, not to a great extent). I haven’t been put to those kinds of tests. I’d like to say that I could calmly, even joyfully, endure. But I’d probably be like Baruch, griping about my fate.
Who am I kidding? I get upset over stupid, trivial things. I can’t imagine being faced with the stuff that Jeremiah and Baruch are looking at. I’d be demanding the mother of all pity parties!
Still, despite all that, the message from the prophet to his friend is that God “will give [him his] life as a prize of war in every place to which [he] may go” (v. 5). That’s appropriate imagery for a country being occupied by a foreign army. It’s also quite a promise. It’s a sign of God’s unending grace. Even though Baruch’s suffering has been, and will be, seemingly unbearable, he will endure. When those all around have fallen, he will stand.
Something else I wonder about is how the message Jeremiah gives to Baruch affects their relationship. Even though the whole thing is prefaced with, “Thus says the Lord,” it’s still Jeremiah talking to his friend. And even though the discussion ends on an upbeat note, there’s some pretty strong stuff here.
What kind of friend is it who’s willing to confront in this way? “Believe me, I understand things have been hard for you. I’ve been there! But this is about more than just you—or me! The whole country’s going down the toilet, so why should you get any special treatment?” One might say, with friends like that, who needs enemies?
One might also say, that’s the best kind of friend to have. This is a friend who’s willing to tell you the truth. Apparently, this isn’t the end of their friendship. As I’ve said, this event probably comes many years before the stuff in the chapters right before this—when Baruch and Jeremiah still very much associate with each other.
Jeremiah’s message isn’t meant to be nasty; he isn’t getting in Baruch’s face. (At least, that’s my assumption. Unfortunately, the videotape of this conversation was destroyed during the Babylonian invasion.) Jeremiah is doing what the apostle Paul would encourage six and a half centuries later: he’s “speaking the truth in love” (Ep 4:15).
The prophet helps his friend see where he’s going wrong. At this key moment in Baruch’s life and in the nation’s life, he wants him to clearly see his choices. It takes courage to do this—to offer correction, not with shaming or chastising, but with maturity and wisdom.
A true friend wants to see you delivered from whatever has you in its clutches. Baruch wants a pity party. Jeremiah says no, let’s have a real celebration.
Does God indulge us in our desire for pity parties? Sometimes, I think the answer is yes—but not for long. God is very patient with us. Still, we are called to let go of whatever’s holding us back, whatever keeps us in a state of spiritual immaturity. As we do that, we find that the puny pleasures of the pity party in no way match the joys of the banquet of the kingdom.