Commentary on Jeremiah 14:17-22

This passage was written during a period of death and famine in Jerusalem preceding the Babylonian captivity in 587 BC. It is also a response to Yahweh’s anger against false prophets who are raising expectations among the people that they are not going to experience “sword and famine”. In fact, they are going to experience that and more. Jeremiah, as a true prophet, will not raise such expectations but, however unpopular his words, will warn them of what is coming, and why. This won’t make him very popular; real prophets seldom are.

As written, however, today’s passage is another lovely reading full of compassion and tenderness. There is no anger in God’s words today against his people. Rather he is presented as deeply upset over their sufferings. Through the prophet, God says:

Let my eyes run down with tears night and day…for the virgin daughter of my people is struck down with a crushing blow…

The ‘daughter’ is Jerusalem. Everywhere God sees people in the countryside killed by the sword, and in the city sick with hunger. Even the prophets and priests, who would normally be supported by the people, are reduced to foraging for food “throughout the land [about which they] have no knowledge”. All are at their wits’ end.

Jeremiah then expresses his own distress at what is happening and wonders what the Lord is doing about it. He asks:

Have you completely rejected Judah?
Does your heart loathe Zion?
Why have you struck us down
so that there is no healing for us?

It is the cry of a people deep in despair at their never-ending sufferings and who lament:

We look for peace but find no good,
for a time of healing, but there is terror instead.

At the same time, the prophet acknowledges that his people are in no way innocent. They have brought their own tribulations on themselves:

We acknowledge our wickedness, O Lord…
for we have sinned against you.

But the prophet reminds the Lord that they are his own people and, for his own Name’s sake, he prays that they not be rejected:

…remember and do not break your covenant with us.

Their suffering and shame somehow reduces the glory of their God, especially in the eyes of Gentiles. Who could honour a God who allows his people to suffer in this way?

But it takes two to make a covenant, and its observance depends on both sides keeping their promise. He is their God, but they are his people and must show it by their behaviour. This they have miserably failed to do.

The prophet concludes by appealing to the unique power of their God:

Can any idols of the nations bring rain,
or can the heavens give showers?

We remember the challenge that Elijah made to the priests of Baal about breaking a drought (see Exod 18:25-29). Only Yahweh can bring the longed-for rain:

Is it not you, O Lord our God?
We set our hope on you,
for it is you who do all this.

We see here, on the one side, the picture of the tender God who cares so deeply for his people. This was all so graphically illustrated by the life of Jesus, our God incarnate. We must never forget it.

On the other side, during times of tragedy, pain, loss or distress it is easy for us to wonder if our God really does care, when he allows such terrible things to happen to us or to our loved ones. But it is precisely at such times we need to be aware of the closeness of God’s love to us. His love for us was most clearly shown as Jesus hung dying in terribly agony and shame on the Cross. Paul writing to the Romans said:

He who did not withhold his own Son but gave him up for all of us… (Rom 8:32)

And Jesus himself cried out:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mark 15:34)

The words died on his lips and were followed by total acceptance when he said:

It is finished. (John 19:30)

And he surrendered his life into his Father’s hands. That was the moment of supreme love, the moment of new life and glory.