The Praise of a Broken Man

 

Praise 18

 

Jeremiah Lamenting
Rembrandt, c 1630

          Jeremiah seems like an odd choice for our final example in this series on praising God. For good reason, history terms him "The Weeping Prophet," and the moniker had less to do with his compassion as much as his never-ending sorrow. With the exception of Noah, perhaps, no other Bible character was called to a life of such long, fruitless, despairing ministry.

          In his youth, he was intimidated by the stern faces that met his first attempts at preaching. His mature message of repentance toward God, which included surrender to Babylon, was wholly rejected. Deeply discouraged at one point, he sought to quit, only to find himself unable to do so. Toward the end of the crisis with Babylon, he was dropped into a partially empty well and left to rot. Even when Nebuzar-adan, after Israel's collapse, rewarded Jeremiah, it did him no favors. On the Mount of Olives, he wept as he watched Jerusalem burn, and the resulting work is well-titled Lamentations. Finally, to add insult to injury, the Lord told him to stay with the still rebellious remnant of Israel as they decamped against God’s advice to Egypt. There, surrounded by an alien culture and far from the destroyed home of his people, he died a friendless exile.

          The last thing we would expect to find in such a tragic figure is a heart of praise lifted toward God. Yet we do, in a profoundly personal passage that reads like something lifted directly out of Psalms.

Jeremiah 17.13–17

13 O LORD, the hope of Israel, all that forsake thee shall be ashamed, and they that depart from me shall be written in the earth, because they have forsaken the LORD, the fountain of living waters.

14 Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise.

15 Behold, they say unto me, Where is the word of the LORD? let it come now.

16 As for me, I have not hastened from being a pastor to follow thee: neither have I desired the woeful day; thou knowest: that which came out of my lips was right before thee.

17 Be not a terror unto me: thou art my hope in the day of evil.

          One of the most challenging things to endure is to offer yourself to serve people in obedience to God and to have them reject it. You will recall that our Saviour Himself suffered the same pain. While we could perhaps understand why the heathen might reject a message from God's prophet, we should expect to find better from God’s chosen people, Israel. Yet we do not. Nor was this an isolated incident. It continued for the entirety of Jeremiah’s ministry. Where did he find the motivation to go on?

          In God. In the passage referenced above we find two phrases brokenly whispered to Heaven through tears, thou art my praise and thou art my hope. We find no record of Jeremiah being encouraged by his wife, his children, his friends, his congregation, his boss, his peers, or his pen pals. On the contrary, he experienced rejection, scorn, mocking, ignoring, resentment, abuse, epithets, opposition, attack, and legal trouble. Yet somehow, in the Lord alone, he found the strength to go on.

          One of the things I have learned in my first fifty years is that when you praise God, it strengthens you. Countless times, I have walked alone with Him somewhere, puzzled and hurting, and lifted my voice brokenly toward Heaven, not in pleading but in praise. And every single time, I have left those encounters with fresh strength.

          Contrary to what your flesh is murmuring, you do not need appreciation, acceptance, adoration, admiration, or affirmation; you need to praise God. You do not need beautification, commendation, compensation, or mollification; you need to praise God. You do not need reconciliation, rejuvenation, relaxation, revalidation, or recreation; you need to praise God. You do not even need a vacation; you need to praise God.

          You remember, undoubtedly, the account of Paul and Silas told in Acts 16. The city fathers, under borderline riotous pressure from an unruly mob, commanded them to be beaten and cast into prison. Confined in the stocks, what do we find them doing in the wee hours of the morning? And at midnight, Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them. (Acts 16.25) Our problem is we are waiting for something good to happen to praise Him. But the truth is, if we would praise Him when everything is going wrong, we would find continuing to serve Him well within our capability no matter what we presently endure.

          In addition to the fact that praising God strengthens us, I find one other fascinating thought here in Jeremiah’s story. It is this: when you cannot praise God for what He is doing, you can still praise Him for Who He is.

          We all get there eventually, for it is our lot in this vale of tears. Everything good in your life sours, all that you have sought to build crumbles, and you are left sitting amongst the detritus of the shattered fragments of your dreams. Do we praise Him there? There is something priceless about a Christianity that can still praise Him in the dust. How is such a thing possible? By praising God for being Himself.

Who He is does not change based on how badly the circumstances of my life are going at the moment. God is still God. He is still just. He is still righteous. He is still wise. He is still understanding. He is still all-knowing. He is still all-powerful. He is still eternal. He is still infinite. He is still merciful. He is still gracious. He is still caring. He is still holy. He is still loving. He is still faithful. He is still sovereign. He is still there.

Scripture is powerful. For many years, Mandy and I have sought to place some as decoration in every room in our home. When I arrived in Dubuque a few years ago and redid my office to suit, I wanted to do the same thing. I knew I could have any verse I wanted crafted on Etsy. I reserved the wall space directly over my desk and thought long and hard about what to put there. I wanted it to speak to me no matter what I was doing, whether administrating, counseling, studying, mentoring, or resting. In time, the Lord led me to two words in Hebrews 1.11. If you walk into my office and look directly above my desk, you will find them there, silhouetted softly in the indirect light: Thou remainest. 

When everything I have sought to do as a pastor, a husband, a father, a

friend, or a writer has gone wrong, is going wrong, or looks as if it will go wrong perpetually, God still is. As I write this, just yesterday, I walked amongst the dripping leaves of a rain-soaked oak savannah. I told Him, "When every worry I have is gone, and every fear I have is forgotten, and every sermon I have preached is consigned to oblivion, and every word I have penned vanished away, when the memory of everything about my life has turned to story, and story to legend, and legend to myth, and myth to dust, You will still be here."

          When you can praise Him for nothing else, let Him be your praise.

          Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise. (Jeremiah 17.14)