Jeremiah 33:14-16
December 2, 2018
Advent 1C
Dear Saints of Our Savior~
I’m afraid I have some bad news for you this morning. But, I also have some good news for you this morning. Bad news and good news. There you go. Now you know just what to expect from this sermon.
Everyone has expectations. We have expectations for ourselves, and for those around us. Others have expectations for us. You’ve likely got some expectations for the season of Advent and the upcoming holy days. There are expectations at work and at school and at home. A big part of the pastoral care I provide for couples who are engaged to be married is helping them arrive at realistic expectations for
It’s also true that we have expectations for God. We who are baptized and believe—we who are God’s children—we have expectations for God: that He will keep His promises, that He will forgive us, that He will be by our side in times of trouble. Some Christians have the mistaken expectation that being a part of the church means that bad things won’t happen in your life—that you should expect to be healthy, wealthy, and successful. But I’ve gotten to the point where I tell new members to expect trouble, trials, and temptations. For if you’ve got a friend in Jesus, well, that also means that you’ve got an enemy.
Today’s text from Jeremiah takes us back to the Old Testament. You’d better believe that OT Israel had expectations—and rightly so. They were God’s chosen people—His holy nation, selected, protected, and holy. From the Lord Israel received a land, a covenant, a law, a promise. No other nation in the history of nations was quite like OT Israel.
When Israel walked away from all that—when Israel grew faithless and idolatrous and adulterous—God punished His people. God sent the Assyrians to ransack the Northern Kingdom of Israel. And then He raised up the Babylonians to pillage, plunder, and burn the Southern Kingdom, including Jerusalem. The Babylonians destroyed the temple and carted off many of the people into exile.
It was during those grim final years of the Southern Kingdom that God called Jeremiah to be His spokesman. Jeremiah had bad news to proclaim. Destruction and exile were just around the corner. But God’s people ignored him. In fact, they tried to silence him. Jeremiah was depressing—bad for morale—unpatriotic, to be sure. They locked Jeremiah up—threw him in a cistern—because of the bad news about the Babylonians that he proclaimed.
I have bad news, too. And it’s not going to boost your morale or improve your ego. Like OT Israel, you are chosen and holy. You enjoy the peace of God and the promises of God applied to your life. But like Israel of old, you’ve become lazy and complacent. Your conduct is far from holy. And concerning the promises of God, how often do you hear them, read them, and share them with others? With all the words that come out of your mouth each week, what percentage of those words are words of prayer or praise? What percentage of those words are cursing, swearing, or words of anger? You were chosen and claimed by God in the waters of your baptism. But how many people who interact with you would ever guess that about you? Your sin runs death deep. You justly deserve—not God’s praise—but God’s punishment. That’s the bad news.
But you may have noticed that the tiny bit of text from Jeremiah in today’s reading is actually good news. Just like me, Jeremiah had bad news and good news. Behold (that means “pay attention”), the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. God keeps His promises. That’s good news! You can rely on what He says. Even as He permits death and destruction, He keeps His promises. Jeremiah preached that a righteous branch—a sprout from King David’s family tree—would come. He will do justice and righteousness. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will dwell securely.
The Israelites clung to that promise for nearly 600 years. When they lived in exile with the likes of Daniel and Esther, they clung to God’s promise that a descendant of David would save His people from their sin. When they returned to the ruins of Jerusalem they rebuilt the temple under Ezra and Nehemiah—but it wasn’t like the old days. God’s people were ruled first by the Persians, then by the Greeks, they by the Romans. Centuries came and went. But all the while, that faithful remnant of Israel never forgot the words of the Prophet Jeremiah—the promise of a righteous branch, the Son of David, the Messiah whose kingdom would have no end.
And then, finally, came the day when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on top of a borrowed donkey. The crowds hailed Him as a king: Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest! It was true. Everything they said was right on. Jesus was the one to save God’s people.
Those Palm Sunday crowds had the right words, but the wrong expectations. They were likely expecting a holy war—that Jesus would raise an army and drive out the Romans the way King David had driven out the Philistines. But we know the good news. Jesus rode into Jerusalem to suffer and die. He came to make an exchange—your sin for His righteousness. He came to be your substitute under God’s righteous wrath again your sin. The only “holy war” Jesus came to wage was against sin and death and all the powers of darkness that threaten to destroy you. And that, my friends, is good news.
The last lines from Jeremiah in today’s reading need some attention. After declaring that Jerusalem will dwell securely, Jeremiah says: This is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.’” Literally, Jeremiah refers to the name by which SHE will be called. “She,” not “it.” And that “she” isn’t merely Jerusalem. That “she” is “you.” That “she” is the church. That “she” is the bride of Christ. And this bride takes the name of her groom: The Lord is our righteousness. That’s how it is for you and me and all the people of God: The Lord is our righteousness.
His righteousness is yours. It’s His gift to you. It’s not something you do; it’s something He does. It’s not something you earn; it’s something He gives. Nothing illustrates that better than when we bring a little newborn to the waters of Holy Baptism (like we did this morning with little Lydia). What can she do? Nothing. What can she earn? Nothing. What can she pay? Nothing. But now, having received the gift of Baptism, the Lord is HER righteousness and HER salvation. And it’s all the Lord’s doing—all His gift.
This kindness and generosity from the Lord are not what human beings expect. When it comes to salvation, we expect that we have to do it—that we have to earn it and prove ourselves worthy. But those expectations are dead wrong. Jesus won salvation for us; and His love alone makes us worthy to be God’s holy children.
The bad news of our sin—and the good news of our Lord’s great love for sinners—that’s the theme of the whole Bible. That’s the center of our preaching and our life together. But as Jeremiah reminds us, “The Lord is our righteousness.” And He comes here to give you that righteousness of His—through words, water, bread and wine. Wait for it. Hope for it. Expect it.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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