Lost Sabbaths

All this was to fulfill the word of the Lord spoken by the prophet Jeremiah: Until the land has retrieved its lost sabbaths, during all the time it lies waste it shall have rest while seventy years are fulfilled. (2 Chronicles 36:21)

Okay. Let me begin by saying that this is not a post about apocalyptic literature like I promised. I do intend to write another one, but I felt inspired to compose this first. I have been ruminating over this verse from Scripture for the last week or so and thought I would share a reflection on it.

In a short span of time schools, colleges, businesses, restaurants, theme parks, and even churches have all closed. Sports, concerts, and other large events have all been cancelled. Air travel is almost unthinkable at this point, and the cruise industry is practically kaput. People are encouraged to stay home as much as they can, and not just from work but from... well, everything. It seems like the whole world is being drawn into a massive, communal Lenten observance. You thought you were going to just give up chocolate and soda pop this Lent... Little did you know.

Occasionally, like in times of crisis such as this, we might ask ourselves, "What does this all mean? Is God trying to tell us something?" I believe our ancestors in faith, the people of Israel, contemplated these questions very intensely. They interpreted their history from a religious perspective, and this is what informed their sacred writings. The so-called "Historical Books" of the Hebrew Scriptures were more theological than historical annals. They were oftentimes (though not always) rooted in actual events that had taken place, yet the meaning they ascribed to their social and political experience was influenced by how they viewed their relationship with God.

For much of the Old Testament, a national disaster was usually interpreted as the result of Israel and Judah's infidelity to God and God's commandments. That was certainly the case for the Bablylonian Exile in 586 B.C.E. Why did the Babylonians conquer Judah, sack Jerusalem, destroy the Temple, and send us into exile? Because we had broken the covenant. The historical tradition of 1 & 2 Samuel and 1 & 2 Kings, tends to place the blame largely on Judah's faithless and corrupt rulers, especially king Manasseh. However, the Chronicler (as the author of 1 & 2 Chronicles is often called), retells their history a little differently. He was writing later than most of the Hebrew Scripture tradition, and his audience had already returned from exile and rebuilt a Temple. His was a community that was striving to move forward in faithfulness to the Law and the Prophets. Perhaps as a warning to them all, he extended responsibility for the exile to the sins of the whole people in his account of history (2 Chr. 36:14-16).¹ He and his audience weren't expecting a restored monarchy anytime soon, but they could at least keep the law and promote the ritual cult of the Temple.

The quotation from 2 Chronicles at the beginning of this post adds another layer of interpretation for the exile. The duration of the exile was seen as reparation for not keeping the sabbatical and jubilee years (see also Leviticus 26:34-35). Every seventh and fiftieth year the land itself was supposed to have rest from agricultural labor (as described in Leviticus 25:1-13). These were also years that debts were to be forgiven and slaves too were supposed to have rest from their labors. The Torah lists all sorts of punishments that would befall the people if they did not keep the commands of God, and losing the land was one of them. For the Chronicler, however, the removal from the land was not a permanent loss, like the end of the monarchy appeared to be. The exile was a hiatus in order to repay the land for the rest it was denied.² Throughout the time that it is desolate, it shall observe the rest that it did not observe in your sabbath years while you were dwelling upon it. (Lev. 26:25 JPS).

As I've said before, I am not a biblical fundamentalist or literalist, and I don't presume that the Bible foretells current events. More importantly, I'm not bringing up Israel's punitive interpretations of the exile in an attempt to suggest that Covid-19 is divine punishment for breaking a covenant with God or any other sort of social sin. That all being said, I believe the Word of God is living and active and that it resonates with the human experience across time and space. Wars, famines, plagues, economic breakdowns, natural disasters, and crises of all manner are perennial problems we face as people on this earth, so of course these things make their way into our sacred texts. One of the reasons why I love the Scriptures is because they're as much about the human condition as they are about God. Not surprisingly, there is a lot of practical wisdom in Scripture that should inform our conscience.

I imagine that the Chronicler looked back on his people's experience of the exile and, having prayed  with the Torah and the oracles of Jeremiah, gave it a meaning beyond the sheer devastation and humiliation that it appeared to be. Recognizing his ancestors' past failings, he gave his community of Jews a way forward from their apathy and an invigoration to heed the Law and Prophets.³ Among the commandments, sabbath rest was so central to who they were as a people. This was something they needed to be reminded of, but I'm sure it also just made good practical sense.

God's law and the prophets' warnings were not arbitrary rules to follow. Any farmer will tell you the importance of rest for the land and the need for crop rotation. A just economy, as dictated in the Law, protected the most vulnerable, like widows, orphans, slaves, and foreigners. Even the dietary restrictions and ritual washings had practical implications. With the Chronicler's hindsight, he could see that infidelity to the Law and the Prophets had consequences, and whether the calamities that befell them were divine punishment or not, it was clear that there was a reason why God wanted them to keep his commandments. Social sin is as real today as it was in the time of our biblical ancestors. It would be the fundamentalist's stance to suggest that God is punishing us with this virus, but it would not be impractical to see how our economic systems and self-indulgence have exacerbated the crisis at hand.

I cannot say if there is some objective meaning from on high for this global crisis. Frankly, I don't pay much thought to the possibility, and for now it's a philosophical position I'm unwilling to entertain. I do, however, believe that we can observe our experience and listen for the echoes from Sacred Scripture that resonate with it. Even when our lives are upended and everything seems irrational, we can imbue this period of time with meaning. I think about all of the closures and cancellations, the abrupt halt of the normal flow of daily life, the images of empty streets and vacant businesses. One biblical commandment that seems to haunt me in all this is that of sabbath rest.

I am not insinuating that Covid-19 is an act of God intended to impose upon us an involuntary sabbatical. I'm not suggesting that this period of crisis is even all that restful. For a lot of people its been an anxious, stressful time as they try to figure out how to work from home, or find daytime child-care, or take classes on-line. Some parents are thrust into home-schooling their kids. Many people are without jobs and are wondering where their next meal is coming from. Those in the medical field or who are working at grocery stores or for delivery services are experiencing anything but respite. The number of cases and deaths are rising around the world. These are extremely difficult times, and, as was the exile for the people of Judah, this is not a favorable event. In fact, quite the contrary.

But at the risk of sounding as if I'm seeking a silver lining, I do believe that, for those of us who are forced into self-quarantine, we can give this time a sacred meaning. Is God calling us to retrieve once again the rest and the silence, which has been denied us by obligations or superficial distractions of our own making? This can be an opportunity to explore our relationship with God, to break open the Word and commune with the Lord, especially since many of us cannot receive communion in the Eucharist. It's a chance to rediscover the value of relationships we've taken for granted, as we are compelled to be apart from friends or together with our families. This is a time in which our common humanity is felt most strongly as all across the globe we share in the same feelings of loss, fear, and isolation but also in the hope and desire for salvation. We are one human family, and we are in solidarity now more than ever with those who are isolated in prisons and hospitals, with those who are vulnerable, and those who long daily for the dignity of work.

Even the earth itself is finding rest from the pressures we have put on it from our consumerism. It seems that already the atmosphere can breathe just a little easier as we fast from carbon emissions. Apparently, the absence of boat traffic in Venice has made their usually opaque canals clearer as well.⁴ Who knows what other positive environmental impacts may be possible? It may be a good time to take a walk if you are able (or open up a window) just to listen to the sounds of nature that we have become immune to in the hustle of our busy lives.

But I believe there's something deeper and more solemn to be gleaned from all this. For the Chronicler, just because the exile would give back to the land the sabbaths it was denied did not mitigate the tragedy of Judah's destruction. It was not a "bright side." Rather, his interpretation gave his community reason to have remorse for their sins. Perhaps this is also time for us to have compunction for the good we've failed to do as we've gone about business as usual, noses pressed to the grindstone - or to our phones. It's a time of reckoning for the whole human race as we come face-to-face not just with our individual selves but with our global systems and social structures that fail us and crush the lives of the most vulnerable when a crisis strikes.

Without minimizing or disdaining the severity of this pandemic - all the deaths, confirmed diagnoses, loss of jobs - the biblical commandment for sabbath rest hovers over my view of some of what's happening. I feel a faint connection with the people of Judah who were sent into exile so that, as the Chronicler would say, the land would experience the lost sabbaths. There's cause for individual and communal reevaluation to see what we've ignored or failed to appreciate. If you are compelled into self-quarantine at this time, this recess from our daily activities can be a sobering period - a chance to examine our lives. When everything else around us is shutting down, what becomes truly important? When we're forced into social-distancing and limitations, what have we, individually or collectively, taken for granted? Have we turned futile things into idols? Have I failed to take the time to recognize God's presence? Have I appreciated God's creation, my family, my friends, my neighbors? Have I paused to even hear my own self think up until now? Have I taken time to rest and just be?

My only scripture recommendation this week is that one verse, 2 Chr. 36:21, but feel free to click on the links to those other passages from Leviticus. If anything I've written resonates with you or your experience of going into self-quarantine, ponder those things. I should add, though, that it doesn't all have to be navel-gazing. There are certainly people in desperate need right now. Are you able to run an errand for an elderly neighbor? Do you need to check in with your co-workers to see if they need anything while they are home-bound too? Can you donate food or money to a soup kitchen or food pantry. And of course, this is also a wide open door to pray. Pray for our world, for the medical professionals, for those looking for a vaccine, for the elderly and at risk, for the infirmed, dying, and deceased, for their families, for those who have lost employment, and for an end to the global health crisis. If this be a time of sabbath rest for you - because it definitely isn't for everyone - make it mean something.

Until next time, be safe!

Peace and all good,
Bro. Ian

---

1 Stephen L. Harris and Robert L. Platzner, The Old Testament: An Introduction to the Hebrew Bible, (Boston: McGraw Hill, 2003), 328.^↩
2 Jewish Publication Society, study note on 2 Chronicles 36:21, in The Jewish Study Bible: Tanakh Translation, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 1825.^↩
3 Harris and Platzner, 328.^↩
4 Denise Chow, "Coronavirus Shutdowns Have Unintended Benefits: Cleaner Air, Clearer Water," NBC News Science 19 March, 2020, NBC News, Web, 20 March, 2020. ^↩

Taking the Knee... Jeremiah Style

Perusing the library of Sacred Scriptures this summer, I decided to read through the book of the prophet Jeremiah. One of the most tragic and unnerving figures in Old Testament literature, I have found Jeremiah to be particularly relevant for our world today. In exposing sin and injustice, he confounded the comfortable and perturbed the presumptuous. He prophesied national defeat when others believed Jerusalem could never fall. They thought he was a blasphemous traitor, when, far from desiring Judah’s destruction, he hoped his country would be repentant and become a holier, more just kingdom. A recent message thread with my sisters about Megan Rapinoe got me thinking the other day about actions at sporting events that protest the status quo. I couldn’t help but think of Jeremiah and his own controversial signs he had performed. And I thought, might Jeremiah be a lens for interpreting and appreciating sporting arena protests? No doubt an unsettling (perhaps touchy) topic, so first, let’s take a look at our prophet from Scripture.

I don’t want to belabor you with too much about what a prophet is. One of my earliest, longest, and (not surprisingly) least viewed posts is all about the prophets. If you want, you can check that out by clicking here. I will, however, recycle a quote from scholar Victor Matthews. The prophet’s “role was to challenge the establishment and the social order, to remind the leadership and the people of their obligation to the covenant with Yahweh, and to warn the people of the punishment that would surely ensue if they violated this covenantal agreement.”[1] It’s no wonder prophets, like Jeremiah, were so unpopular.

Now there’s a lot of historical and political intrigue going on in Judah during Jeremiah’s career, but I’ll be honest, it gets really convoluted. Kings are killed in battle. Puppet kings are put on the throne. Egypt’s in control. Babylon’s in control. Judah’s allegiances flip-flop. There’s a smaller exile in 597 BCE, and then the really bad one happens twenty years later when Jerusalem and the temple are destroyed. And up until then, the people still thought that they couldn’t be defeated. Yeah. Little ol’ Judah… against Babylon. Really?

But “the temple of the LORD! The temple of the LORD! The temple of the LORD” – so the people thought to put their trust (Jeremiah 7:4). Indeed, Jerusalem, seemed to have miraculously survived a devastating siege by the Assyrians over a century earlier. But Jeremiah condemns the presumption that they would be safe because of the temple.

On top of Judah’s tumultuous political crisis, the religious reform begun by King Josiah never really came to fruition after his untimely death in battle - not long before the call of Jeremiah. So not only is Judah politically weak, they’re also morally bankrupt. They’re still worshipping false gods, their worship of the LORD is empty and insincere, and they do not keep the covenant commands of justice and love of neighbor. They have not protected the widow, orphan, and immigrant. In the midst of all this, Jeremiah is called by God to preach repentance and eventually to prophesy Jerusalem’s destruction and, with it, the temple as well.

 Only if you thoroughly reform your ways and your deeds; if each of you deals justly with your neighbor; if you no longer oppress the alien [sic], the orphan, and the widow; if you no longer shed innocent blood in this place or follow after other gods to your own harm, only then will I let you continue to dwell in this place…

But look at you! You put your trust in deceptive words to your own loss! Do you think you can steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury, sacrifice to Baal, follow other gods that you do not know, and then come and stand in my presence in this house, which bears my name, and say: “We are safe! We can commit all these abominations again!”?...

And now, because you have committed all these deeds—oracle of the Lord—because you did not listen…I will do to this house, which bears my name, in which you trust, and to the place which I gave you and your ancestors, exactly what I did to Shiloh. I will cast you out of my sight… (7:5-7a, 8-10, 13a, 14-15a)

What had become of Jerusalem and its temple? What had become of our ancestors in faith at this time in history? Had not the temple, a good and holy thing, become an idol? In their eyes, this edifice was an emblem that seemed to say, “God is on our side (whether we live justly or not) and therefore we can’t be beat.” And to them, Jeremiah’s denunciation of the temple was both blasphemy and treason. How dare he say that in the name of the LORD!

As with other prophets, Jeremiah did not just preach the message. He also performed prophetic actions to convey God’s Word. For example, in chapter 27 the LORD commands Jeremiah to place a yoke on his shoulders to signify that the people should submit to the yoke of Babylon or perish. One of my favorite passages in all of Scripture is chapter 13, when God orders the prophet to bury an unwashed loincloth near a river. After a while, Jeremiah is told to fetch the cloth, only to discover that it is rotted and good for nothing. And then God says, “So also I will allow the pride of Judah to rot, the great pride of Jerusalem” (v. 9). Not the most charming of stories, but I love how in verse 11 God says to Jeremiah, “So close as the loincloth clings to a man’s loins, so had I made the whole house of Israel and the whole house of Judah cling to me, says the LORD; to be my people, my renown, my praise, my beauty.”

What a profoundly intimate image of God toward his people! To think, this is how close we are to God! I mean, don’t overthink it, folks. This is poetry in action. But the point is that this is not a god who is distant and indifferent; this is the God who deeply cares for us and wants to be in union with us. And so you can hear the sigh of heartbreak when God then says: “But they did not listen.”

It’s prophetic signs like these that bring to mind certain actions of athletes at sporting events. Although there are many other kinds of symbols used in protests, there’s something about kneeling during the national anthem before a game or raising a fist on the medalist stand at the Olympics that strikes a powerful chord - whether people like it or not. For one, these are high-profile people on a vastly public stage. But I also think it has so much to do with the startling juxtaposition of criticism and dearly held national symbols. Consider the British suffragette, Emily Davison (not an athlete herself), who, it would seem, tried to pin a women’s suffrage emblem to, not just any horse, but the king’s horse! In any case, it was the king’s horse who crashed into her and killed her, and if that wasn’t a high-profile protest colliding with a national symbol, I don’t know what is.

Sit-ins and marches send a message, no doubt, but mess with people’s symbols, and you strike a well of emotions that runs inordinately deep. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a sports fan, but even I couldn’t escape the tidal wave of opinions in the news and social media about Colin Kaepernick kneeling during the national anthem. I hardly watched a lick of the Women’s World Cup, but I still heard about Megan Rapinoe’s public activism. And I was far from even being born when this photo of Tommie Smith and John Carlos was taken,

but the image still reverberates today. Symbolic actions like these send some people into tailspins, but honestly… they ain’t got nothing on Jeremiah.

One of Jeremiah’s most shocking prophetic signs is when he takes the elders and priests out to Jerusalem’s city dump (Ben-hinnom) and shatters before them an earthen vessel, saying “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Thus will I smash this people and this city, as one smashes a clay pot so that it cannot be repaired” (19:11). What makes this act so provocative is that when a king was installed, he was presented with pottery inscribed with the names of enemy nations, and the newly anointed king would break them with a rod, symbolizing his power over them. An echo of this is referenced in Psalm 2, a coronation hymn: “With an iron rod you will shepherd them, like a potter’s vessel you will shatter them” (Ps 2:9). To put Jeremiah’s action into context, imagine someone gathering congress at a garbage dump, burning the American flag, and saying “This is what will become of the United States!”

Jeremiah’s prophetic signs were intended to draw his people’s attention to God’s message of conversion. Likewise, the actions of athletes who take the knee during the national anthem, enter the field with heads bowed and arms raised, wear jerseys that say “Los Spurs” or “Los Suns” or shirts emblazoned with “I CAN’T BREATE” are calling us to examine our conscience about a message we’re not hearing with mere words – a message we perhaps don’t want to hear. Far from disrespecting the flag or country, and farther still from symbolic acts of treason as Jeremiah teetered on, these prophetic actions in our day are rather signifying injustice in our midst. That there are systems in our country that are broken. That racial prejudices have fueled police brutality against minorities. That our immigration laws and attitudes are unjust. Etc.

The leaders of Judah were outraged by the words and actions of Jeremiah. They denounced him as a liar and a traitor and they tried to kill him. Yet for all of the religious and social critique that he preached and all the devastation he prophesied, Jeremiah did not despise his nation nor his fellow countrymen. On the contrary, it tore him up inside that he was called upon to proclaim such a demoralizing message and that his people would suffer so much. He wished he could remain silent, but alas, he felt compelled to utter his warning (cf. 8:18-23, 20:7-9).

Moreover, he prophesied God’s judgment and Jerusalem’s fall not out of spite, but in sorrow for a people who could do better. There is hope in Jeremiah, and in chapter 31 he speaks of the new covenant God will make with Israel: “I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people” (v. 33). Although he vehemently condemned their sins and foretold the dire consequences of their actions, ultimately Jeremiah believed that, by God’s grace and mercy, they can be a holier, more just nation. This, I believe, is what motivates prophetic actions in today’s world, not spite or contempt.

Jesus of Nazareth faced a similar experience as Jeremiah. He criticized the religious and social corruption of his time. He, too, challenged the authorities’ presumptions about the temple and was thought to be a blasphemer and a traitor. His words and actions defied the nationalism of his day (e.g. conversing with a Samaritan woman and pagan officials). Even his teachings regarding the family as those “who do the will of God”, or his pithy response of “Let the dead bury the dead” to the man who was going to have a funeral for his father were ways in which Jesus broke with the prevailing tribalism in favor of a far more encompassing kingdom than that built on bloodline or citizenship. But this does not mean Jesus hated his country or fellow Jews either. He wanted them truly to be a light to all the nations as they were called to be (cf. Is 42:6, 49:6, 60:3, and Mt. 5:14-16). Disappointment, criticism, or even anger toward the status quo are not reprehensible; they are catalysts for change toward the better.

By the time I write another post you can probably read the entire book of Jeremiah from beginning to end, but for this week I recommend 7:1-15, 13:1-11, and 19:1-15. These are not necessarily comforting passages, but then, the Word of God is not always meant to console. Oftentimes it calls us to task and cuts us to the quick. Jeremiah’s protests and signs disturbed and infuriated his audience, as sometimes the prophetic actions of athletes do today. Nevertheless, we are called to recognize that things are not right in the world. Things are not right in this country, where racial prejudice threatens the lives of black Americans. Where minorities and the economically poor are inhibited from advancing in society. Where bigoted remarks from the nation’s leaders are dismissed or, worse, defended. Where women do not receive equal pay for equal work. Where even a viable yet unborn infant is unprotected. Where the cries of our brothers and sisters seeking refuge from the violence in their homelands are being ignored. Families are torn apart; children are caged in detention centers; walls are raised, and tear gas is hurled.

Read these or other passages from Jeremiah and ask yourself: do we listen? Or do we let pride obstruct us from hearing the message to reform. Have good and honorable symbols become idols, as the temple had? Does a piece of cloth or a song mean more than a human life? Do we persecute the prophets among us because they look, speak, think, or believe differently than we do? Has nationalism turned our hearts into stone? And what future do we face if these things are so?

Until next time, 

Peace and all good,

Bro. Ian

---

[1] Victor H. Matthews, The Hebrew Prophets and their Social World, 2^nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012), 19.