Sent With A Hope
SENT WITH A HOPE
Jeremiah 29:1-11
Called Clergy Session of the Michigan Area
Lansing, Michigan
Bishop Jonathan D. Keaton
October 21, 2007
By letter, my office issued a call for this clergy session. It was sent with the hope that God’s vision for the church and the world is your utmost priority. Obviously, it was sent with a hope that you would come. And you have come-to worship and pray-to learn and listen-to fellowship and rest. You have come to hear a word from the Rev. Grace Imathiu and the bishop. All of us have come to receive guidance and strength from the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley, the Bright and the Morning Star, the Fairest of Ten Thousands and the Bridge over Troubled Waters. Thanks be to God.
I believe the inspired words of the prophet Jeremiah in 29:11 speaks to us, personally and corporately. “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (NIV) In the NRSV, it reads; “For surely I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”
Two versions, same message; God has some good stuff planned for us in the land of the living, not the least of which are health and wholeness. When I think about the plans that God makes for God’s people, Sent with a Hope comes to mind in three movements: sent into exile, hope in exile, and a future beyond exile.
Sent Into Exile
To learned clergy, it’s not much about the Babylonian exile that you don’t already know. Three times, King Nebuchadnezzar invaded the kingdom of Judah. The second time, Nebuchadnezzar seized the brightest and the best from Judah, along with the king and queen mother and sent them to captivity in Babylon. Their loss of freedom, loss of a homeland and life among their captors gave way to a melancholy and depression not totally captured by the salient words of the psalmist. “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion! “How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? they said.” Geographically speaking, disheartened Judean exiles took up residence in ancient Mesopotamia, between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Now, it is known as Iraq. Niceties aside, the might and brutal power of Nebuchadnezzar II (The Great) sent the people of God into exile.
Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles begs to differ. Boldly standing in the prophetic tradition, Jeremiah claims that God is responsible for their exile although Nebuchadnezzar does the work. Parts of verse 4 read “to all the exiles I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon; verse 7 …I have sent you into exile: and verse 14 …I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.” of chapter 29 bear me out. What’s the message? Apparently, God sends Judah into exile for two reasons: 1. to get them back on track, i.e., to repair their fractured relationship and 2. to open the way for a future with hope.
In a real sense, God is a sending God. Divine catalysts have no barrier. God uses anything and everything to accomplish his will. God sends a person bear the son of God, to nurture John the Baptist, to raise Moses, to be the first herald of the resurrection. God sends others to reform the nation and spread scriptural holiness across the land, to be a drum major for justice, to grow the church in Korea, Cuba, Africa and Iron Mountain, Michigan. God uses ancient and modern Jonah’s and Joann’s for cross-cultural preaching assignments. Reluctant though they may be, the saving grace of Jesus Christ can be heard, and followed.
And God sends where wrong seems to prevail. Remember Joseph. Joseph’s brothers commit a rap sheet of crime against him. Jealousy and anger lead to the threat of death mitigated at the last moment by selling him as a slave. That opens the door to undeserved suffering. Joseph goes to prison on trumped up charges by Potiphar’s wife. He faces the ire of the jailer for requesting meals that are kosher. If his interpretation of King’s dreams is faulty, Joseph risks execution. Even his role as a non-Egyptian leader is hazardous to his health. Failure to succeed could mean jail or death. But, when the brothers seek forgiveness for putting Joseph through a living Hades, his response coincides with Jeremiah. ”It was not you who sent me here, but God…for God sent me before you to preserve life.” Later on, Joseph opined, “you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” Whether we are good or bad, God can accomplish God’s work through us.
Jeremiah’s understanding of the sending function of God has implications for those of us of us who are appointed by the bishop or assigned to an Area by the Jurisdictional Committee on the Episcopacy. God uses the appointment process as a vehicle to show and tell the world about Jesus through the life and witness of persons equipped to lead others to Christ. God uses the appointment process to send the called of Christ to local congregations, mission stations, to urban, rural and suburban areas for transformation work knowing all things are possible with God.
Some pastors may beg to differ. Appointment making does result in some pastors being sent to places emulating the fate of God’s people in Babylon. Certain appointments feel like exile, punishment, resume misread, a lack of care and/or falling behind a colleague who started the ministerial journey at the same time. Nothing, absolutely nothing, stops a sending God, “not death, life, principalities or powers, not things present, nor things to come.” Because of our covenant community, the bishop and the Cabinet are one small cog in the sending process.
Retiring ceremonies during Annual Conference offer great testimony of this truth. Looking back on their appointments, retirees consistently cite God’s directing hand, guidance and care in the places of ministry including the tough appointments. Time and circumstance, intuition and introspection bring forth a God not a bishop who has sent and sustained them on their way.
Clearly, Jeremiah heard God speak a word to him: “for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak, for I will deliver you.” In those salutary words emerge the drumbeat of Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”
Hope in Exile
In a Book entitled A Wesley Family Book of Days edited by Susan Pellowe, John Wesley’s father Samuel writes to the Archbishop of York. Samuel is behind bars at Lincoln Castle for not paying his bills. This is the kind of debt that embarrasses. Though he writes his Episcopal Leader out of sheer frustration, Samuel maintains his hope while incarcerated. Samuel Wesley describes the meanness his congregation in graphic detail. Someone stabs his cows. Others break the lock on the door but do not enter. Because the house dog warns the missus, part of the dog’s leg is chopped off the next day. Without a hint of derision, this pastor in his ninth year of service responds. “Most of my friends advise me to leave Epworth; if e’er I should get from hence. I confess I am not of that mind, because I may yet do good there; and ‘tis like a coward to desert my post because the enemy fire thick upon me. They have only wounded me yet, and, I believe, can’t kill me; I hope to be home by Xmas (sic). God help my poor family!”
Some hearers in the congregation might quip, “What part of leave does he not understand?” Obviously, Samuel accessed a hope and faith in God that sustained and kept him with a fruitful ministry at Epworth till the day he died 30 years later. Samuel possessed a hope in exile.
As a bishop, I receive letters from pastors and laity about the diminution of hope or its loss. A number of persons in this covenant community are struggling. Smiling on the outside, crying on the inside, they face each day of ministry with little inspiration, stilted joy and hope deferred. Some are lonely, depressed, impoverished of things if not of soul. Some are considering the efficacy of their call to ministry long since passed. Many of you know these colleagues. Maybe, it is you. As members of this covenant community, it is our sworn and bounden duty to care for them with compassion. In the words of the Negro Spiritual, sometimes I feel discouraged and think my words in vain, but then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.” If you know your colleague is hurting and struggling, minister to them. Samuel Wesley writes the bishop. You may have to call or go by. Should there be an opportunity for advice, “advise rightly,” nothing more.
Advise rightly is foundational to understanding Jeremiah’s letter to his people in exile. Why? There is a dilemma. Hananiah predicts the end of their suffering and total restoration of the community in two years. It is a lie. Alas, Hananiah is a false prophet. But those who believe him have their hopes dashed unnecessarily. On the other hand, Jeremiah counters Hananiah’s prediction with advice designed to produce hope in exile. “Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters in marriage; multiply there, do not increase. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord of hosts on its behalf, for in its welfare, you will find your welfare”(29:5-7). The prophet’s request has the feel of “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all things shall be added unto you.” (Matthew 6:33 KJV) Nevertheless, helping one’s enemies is an unprecedented request. Yet, Jeremiah argues it is the path for hope in the Babylonian exile. In passing, I cannot help but transpose this community to modern Iraq asking the hypothetical question, would they or any other divinely inspired community seek the welfare of present day Baghdad believing that in turn they would be blessed as well. As in some Judicial Council decisions, that question is moot and hypothetical. Not moot nor hypothetical are the implications of such a methodology for the church and the world.
For instance, by placing her name in consideration for the episcopacy in 1980, Michigander Marjorie Swank Matthews sought the welfare of The United Methodist Church. Swank was the first woman elected a Bishop in a mainline denomination. As a result, the church became more inclusive and representative. During her active episcopacy, Bishop Matthews endured her exile with hope that other women would join her. Wrote Bishop Craig, “Matthews recounted the isolation she felt at mealtimes and in social times. She was single and female. And the Council didn’t know how to deal with her. Four years later, a brighter day came when Bishops Kelly and Craig were elected.
When I think of the efficacy of Jeremiah’s paradigm shift for appointment making, his prophetic word excites me even more. At bottom, hope in exile emerges when the exiles get their minds off themselves; get involved in the lives of other by working at a common task. When what they do together benefits those they serve and the whole family, hope becomes a reality.
Could that strategy point the way in every appointment, good or bad. What if all of us would seek the welfare of the local church, extension appointment or area to which we had been sent, whether we liked it or not? Wouldn’t it make a huge difference in our present difficulties? In the words of Adam Hamilton, “What if we did whatever it took to grow the church to which we had been sent? What if we prayed for the welfare of the community entrusted to our care with all its trials and tribulations? What if we really believed in Jeremiah’s concept of divine reciprocity? Would we not pick up our lyres hung on the willows by the waters of Babylon and sing “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm, plans to give you hope and a future.”
A Future Beyond Exile
When Bishop Duecker appointed me as a District Superintendent in 1990, I asked a former District Superintendent and now retired Bishop Charles Jordan for advice. He gave me no books to read. Neither did Jordan suggest spending a few hours to share the highlights of his experience. Instead, Jordan offered a one liner that addressed a major growth area in my life, namely workaholism. “Take your day off,” he said. Jordan saw a present and future state beyond my work and wanted me to grasp it. Off day, mini-Sabbath, downtime, call it what you will, it offered time for restoration, reflection and renewal, i.e., time with family, time with myself and time with God.
In Jeremiah 29:11ff, God promised his people a future beyond exile. One day, the dark night of slavery would be over. One day, they would be allowed to go home. One day, they would pick up their lyres off the willows down by the waters of Babylon and sing marching to Zion the beautiful city of God. That’s what God promised. That’s what God meant. Jeremiah 29:14c is very specific “I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.” It happened. God delivered on God’s promise in less than seventy years. And Israel was restored.
Admittedly, I make that witness from the vantage point of hindsight. As the saying goes, “hindsight is twenty-twenty.” In captivity, Judah has no guarantee that Jeremiah is correct. Home is hundreds of miles away. Knowing who and what to believe is not made any easier by the competing claims of other prophets or the massive power of King Nebuchadnezzar. Couple that with the lack of faith among the people of God and the “not yet” seems as it is “not yet and never.” So, how did they get it together? It’s simple and difficult. They had to believe.
Some years ago, Bruce Wilkinson’s little book The Prayer of Jabez was the rage. A lot of people bought it. For others, buying the text proved unnecessary. They received it as a gift. Wilkinson made an unforgettable point about his popular book I want you to hear again. “…what you know about deliverance won’t deliver you from anything. You can hang the Jabez prayer on the wall of every room in your house/parsonage and nothing will happen. It’s only what you believe will happen and therefore do next that will release God’s power for you and bring about a life change. But when you act, you will step up to God’s best for you.” Then Bruce adds, “I’m living proof.”
In his book Quiet Strength, Tony Dungy, wining football coach of the Indianapolis Colts, raised the same concern. “When I arrived in Tampa, the talent was there. It was the culture that had to change. When I was in Minnesota, we knew that if we could get the Bucs down early, they would give up, and we could win easily…It seemed that the team had cultivated a fragile mind-set that had infected their play for years. They always expected something to go wrong, and it usually did.” (QT, p.113) As the clergy thinketh, so are they.
The word from Jeremiah suggests that every appointment challenges us to walk by faith not by sight, to do the unprecedented. And what is that? Seek the welfare of the city/congregation where you have been sent. And pray unceasingly for them. Do it, be they friendly or unwelcoming. Do it, be they friend or foe. Do it, be the attendance numbers in the hundreds or teens. The path to a new future is God’s way not ours. God’s way, not ours is one formulation of my emphasis for the day, Sent with a Hope.
When this bishop sends clergy into an appointment, he does so with a hope-filled vision and strategy. First, do whatever it takes to realize the Great Commission. “Go and make disciples of all the nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you, and lo I am with you even to end of the age.” Second, do whatever it takes to change the culture of can’t, in you and in the church. Do so in the light of the 40 year members decline in the North American section of the UMC. “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
In conclusion, the people of God were sent into exile with the hope that they would get it together, do thing God’s way thus opening the door for a future with hope. They were reminded that the promised “not yet” was contingent upon and related to the “now.” Would they dare seek the welfare of their captors? Would they dare pray for them? The record says that they did. And I believe you will. How so? By believing and acting on the words of this familiar hymn “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.”