Gospel for the Ground
Jeremiah 33:14-18
14 The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 15 In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 16 In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The Lord is our righteousness." 17 For thus says the Lord: David shall never lack a man to sit on the throne of the house of Israel, 18 and the levitical priests shall never lack a man in my presence to offer burnt offerings, to make grain offerings, and to make sacrifices for all time.
The prophet Jeremiah proclaims God’s promise as one of justice and righteousness, salvation and safety, endurance and praise. It paints a beautiful hopeful picture before our eyes. My heart leaps at the sight of it, even at the thought of it. But the backdrop it’s painted on…is far from pristine. That’s because promise doesn’t come from our perfection.
Lest we think that these promises are the equivalent of rose-colored glasses, we just have to take a look at Jeremiah’s world when he spoke these powerful words. Our scene is set in the city of Jerusalem which is trapped and suffering under a siege. The people are hungry and sick. Currently Jeremiah is locked up in prison (Jeremiah 32:1-3) because he ticked off the king by speaking God’s truth that power didn’t want to hear (Jeremiah 32:3-5). So Jeremiah has been lamenting, crying out to the Lord that the city is going to fall, and that God will do nothing to help.
And God responds to all this mess with a promise of redemption and healing for Israel. So clearly…promise doesn’t come from our perfection.
And you know what? It doesn’t land on perfect people either. Which…SPOILER: there are no perfect people. But because of our experiences of brokenness and betrayal, it’s hard to hear a word a promise from God and not think of every other broken promise we’ve ever been given. It’s hard to trust that this promise is true or that it will stick around when things get tough, or uncomfortable, or real.
It seems as if God must know our reluctance. It’s as if God has seen and known all that keeps us from throwing ourselves into hope. Because in the midst of uncertainty, Jeremiah relays the confidence of God. “The days are surely coming say the Lord.” This promise is sure. It is not naïve and it is not conditional. It is not probable. It is inevitable.
And it’s big. God promises the future restoration of the community. God promises to raise up a good ruler, but it is one whose purpose includes a wide vision. “In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” The ultimate actions of this king are justice and righteousness for the whole land, not just the people. The land itself is ALSO the beneficiary of this promise of redemption. When things “spring up,” it speaks to life that comes out of the dark of deep earth, out of what looks barren from the side above ground, but is actually lush and growing below. “In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The Lord is our righteousness.” Here the city, the place, the geography, the dirt - gets the title, not the king.
The land itself is in need of redemption as the sin of the Judean elites, their unethical economic practices, violating the Sabbath, and sacrificing young children to idols…hurt not only God’s people, but the land they inhabited. Some texts describe it as polluting God’s land (see Numbers 35). The prophet Ezekiel even suggests that at least part of the reason for the people’s exile is so that the land might recover and heal (see also Ezekiel 36). The Justice and righteousness that God promises, that is on the way, isn’t just for one people but for all people and indeed the whole of creation. It is for bodies and land. This redemptive hope is to include all of creation, and not just humanity.
This land, where we sit is a subtropical coastal swamp, it’s murky and muggy but fertile land.. teeming with palms and ferns, and oaks that have been here since the dinosaurs. This land is also where unbridled development combined with more extreme weather patterns resulting from climate change are causing devastatingly destructive floods - where help is conspicuously slow, limited, or non-existent in the poorer and non-white neighborhoods. This is the land where I-45 expansion is proposed to take precedence over people and nature, again primarily affecting communities of color. This is the land where many still live without stable housing or even shelter, and are treated as a blemish to be hidden rather than trauma to understand. By the way, early voting for runoff elections is open all this week, including voting for our mayor and many city council positions who make decisions that impact this land.
This is the land of the Camp Logan Mutiny also known as The Houston Riot of 1917 – a fateful night where US soldiers stood up against local police who were viciously harassing residents. But the residents were black and the soldiers were from an all-black battalion and so this defense was called a riot and a mutiny that left 5 police dead but also 11 civilians, 4 soldiers, and resulted in another 19 soldiers executed and another 41 sentenced to life imprisonment.
This is the land of the native Sana, Karankawa, and Atakapa tribes, whose communities and culture cultivated this place long before this city was “founded.” (See what native land maps for where you are).
This land has born witness to and endured the weight of generations. It too has wounds and scars. But this land was also created by God and declared good. It too is included in the promise of being made whole and new. After all, this land is a swamp, a place where water and land, things often portrayed as opposites are impossibly intermingled to flourish together.
This land and this people are a multitude of things. Perhaps this is why our redemption also comes in multiple forms. The saving work of God is promised through both the line of David, and a line of priests. The Hebrew word for saved is “yasha'. Five hundred years after God saved the Judeans from their Babylonian exile, a child would be born to descendents of David, and his parents would name him “Yeshua,” or “Jesus,” meaning “God saves.” The Christian tradition recognizes Christ Jesus as the fulfillment of this promise. But this promise is also tied to another, that “there shall also be no end to the line of Levitical priests before [God].” While we might claim the Messiah in our tradition, we can never lay claim to the Levitical birthright or Priestly office that this verse lifts up. And if we accept one as fulfilled prophecy, should we not also accept the other (verse 18)? These verses speak distinctly and yet are woven together. They are held side by side and tip us toward a sense of kinship, a promise of God which is fulfilled in multiple ways and which includes ever more than we could possibly imagine.
This sure and certain promise, which certainly does not require our perfection and extends into the earth itself and beyond binaries…this promise for redemption and wholeness… It is forever. God doesn’t placate or patchwork. God doesn’t promise temporary fixes, but ultimate and enduring life that begets life. God says that these promises are “for all time.” This truth will prevail through the ups and downs of our day by day. Justice and righteousness will win out and are already making headway. The days are surely coming, says the Lord. The days are surely coming. Amen.