the winner of The Saddest Life Award is...
drum roll please
and the winner is...
just let me open this envelope,
And, the award goes to....
Jeremiah, son of Hilkiah, of the priests of Anathoth in Benjamin, for living the most all around disappointing life ever.
You, Jeremiah, win this award for totaling more depressing message hours than any other prophet, for not being allowed to marry and have children, for wishing your mother's womb had been your grave, for having the worst imprisonment experience, muddy seat at the bottom of a cistern, for being the most ridiculed man of your town, for receiving death threats every time you spoke, for thinking you were lucky to not have been hauled off in captivity, only to find out, from the Lord, that the captives in Babylon were the "good figs", and you were actually left behind to rot with the "bad ones".
Jeremiah, we looked high and low to find all the people who have showed you kindness in your sad, pitiful life. We understand that the king of Babylon treated you kindly, but unfortunately, he was unavailable to come and be here today, (some peculiar explanation about mad cow's disease, or something like that, very strange).
However, we were able to find the one other person in your life that was kind to you. This man, upon hearing that you had been dropped into the cistern, bravely stood up for you before the king, and then, with much ingenuity, took worn out clothes and rags from the king's palace to make a rope long enough to get you out. Jeremiah, here he is, the man who rescued you from the pit, Ebed-melech of Ethiopa.
Unlike the story of Joseph or even Job, Jeremiah's life has no happy ending, no amazing come back. It plays out like a tragic movie with an anti-climactic end.
Jeremiah had messages of hope for the captives in Babylon, but for the ones in Jerusalem, there was very little hope to give. The final few remaining had one chance for good, and that was to stay in Jerusalem. They chose instead to run to Egypt, where they hoped to escape famine and war, despite the Lord's message that both hunger and the sword would find them there. Jeremiah must go with them in their disobedience, and in Egypt, they would die.
Maybe, in a strange way, his tragic life makes him more like a character to whom we can relate. Jeremiah didn't hold back when describing his pain and sorrow, he was real about it, asked the hard questions. I like to think of him as a sort of spokesman for the sufferer.
A prime example:
"Why is my pain unceasing,
my wound incurable,
refusing to be healed?
Will you be to me
like a deceitful brook,
like waters that fail?"
jeremiah15:18 ESV
Can you relate to pain that refuses to heal, whether physical or emotional?
"The thought of my suffering and homelessness
is bitter beyond words.
is bitter beyond words.
I will never forget this awful time,
as I grieve over my loss."
as I grieve over my loss."
lamentations3:19-20 NLT
Remember, remember, remember!
I remember my misery, even when I don't want to. At times, it is all I can think about. I would love to not remember, but it seems impossible to forget pain. And it isn't just the memory that consumes my thoughts, but the anticipation that it will never come to an end clings as tightly as the actual suffering.
Jeremiah forgets nothing, unless it is happiness (3:17).
Is that what we have to look forward to?
"But this I call to my mind, and therefore I have hope.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
therefore I will hope in Him.
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. Let him sit alone in silence when it is laid on him. Let him put his mouth in the dust, there may yet be hope." (3:21-28)
One day, our daughter unwittingly confessed to her dad that she could make herself cry fake tears. “Really, how do you do that?” he asked her. “I just remember things that make me sad,” she said, “like my grandfather dying, or giving away my dog.” I think sometimes we unwittingly use the same technique for the opposite; we try to make ourselves happy be recalling memories from the past that make us feel good. Does our source of joy come from looking back, from earthly experiences?
Jeremiah knew very little of earthly joy, so when he speaks of the Lord's compassion and unfailing love, from what event does he borrow it, from what memory does he know it? Having lived a predominantly sad life; he does not have the luxury of calling to mind "mountain top" experiences of joy. In fact, the few times he even speaks of joy is like a blurb on the screen of mourning that characterizes his life. Like in the case of his perpetual pain mentioned above, the only joy Jeremiah seems to know comes from the words of the Lord, apart from that, his life is sad and lonely. "I did not sit in the company of revelers," he says, "nor did I rejoice; I sat alone, because your hand was upon me, for you had filled me with indignation." He is hyper-sensitive to every nerve of his being, to every memory of pain, every affliction suffered.
If his rare spurts of rejoicing last little more than seconds between his painful memories, does that still count as joy?
What does our "joy" word count have to be in order to say that we have rejoiced?
How many times must we be joyful in our sufferings, in order for it to count?
Does it only count if joy occupies more space in our minds than misery?
Are we disqualified from being joyful, if we let slip anything that describes our pain?
Or can we say what we really feel, really think?
"this life sucks"
If your soul can say "it's a good thing my hope isn't in this life, my hope is in the Lord," then, yeah, go ahead and say it. "This life sucks." You need not apologize if your suffering today feels more like mourning than joy, as long as you know and can say that the Lord is your eternal inheritance. That is what counts. Your joy is in knowing what your future holds, knowing that this pain will end, while the mercies of the Lord never will.
Like David says of the Lord, "For his anger is but for a moment and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning." You have turned my mourning into dancing; You have removed my robes of grieving and clothed me with gladness, that my soul may sing your praise and not be silent. O Lord, I'm going to be thanking you forever. psalm30
Joy expressed, even if it only lasts a second, is joy without limits, an eternal and abundant joy, an every morning, fresh supply joy.
Remember, momentary affliction, eternal glory?
Now remember, failing waters, unfailing love.
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