18 th September: 15 th Sunday after Pentecost: Jeremiah 8.18–9.1

A troubled night

A sleepless night

Something on your conscience.

Something or someone you were worried about.

Whatever it was, you kept going over it, round and round in your head, your mind refusing to settle.

And it kept you awake all night long.

If a sleepless night is something we all experience from time to time, a night spent tossing and turning, listen to the poet describe it much better than me

There are nights that are so still

That I can hear the small owl

Calling far off

And a fox barking

Miles away. It is then that I lie in the lean hours awake listening

To the swell born somewhere in

The Atlantic

Rising and falling, rising and

Falling

Wave on wave on the long shore

By the village that is without light

And companionless.

And the

Thought comes

Of that other being who is

Awake, too,

Letting our prayers break on him,

Not like this for a few hours,

But for days, years, for eternity ¹

So what was it that kept the poet awake, tossing and turning all night long?

The poet doesn’t say.

Whatever it was, did you notice that as he lay in bed through the long, slow hours, he became aware of different sounds—the calling of a small owl, the barking of a fox, and the sound of the waves rising and falling on a nearby shore.

And as the minutes drifted slowly past, he also became aware of something else, not a sound but a thought, the thought that he was not alone and companionless as he had at first imagined.

Beyond the cry of the owl and the fox, beyond the shore and the sound of the waves, there was another being, a heavenly being, God, who was also awake, the One who neither slumbers nor sleeps, and who let the poet’s prayers break upon Him, and not just for a few hours, but for days, years, for eternity.

Entitled The Other, R S Thomas’ poem is the first in a little booklet of readings and poems gathered together by one of my colleagues, the Reverend Peter Millar.

Retired, widowed some years ago, and now suffering from an incurable cancer, Peter Millar has gathered various readings and poems from sources around the world because they lighten my path and help me to see my life in a greater frame of meaning.

Convinced of our common humanity, that we all share a common heart-beat whoever we are and wherever we live, Peter is persuaded that if we remember the many ways in which we are connected to one another, and connected to this fragile spinning earth which is our home, even in through uncertain times we can have fresh dreams and renewed vision for the future.

Urgent, reflective, raw and yet profoundly insightful; if you want to know what living with faith looks like in uncertain times, I think it looks something like this.

Yet whether or not anything in Peter Millar’s story, or the Thomas poem, resonates with you and your life experience, whatever else we can say about the times through which we are living, we can at least say they are uncertain.

Internationally the conflict in Ukraine has changed the face of Europe and will do so for many years to come.

Nationally we are still coming to terms with the outcome of Brexit, the opportunities some think it has created, the problems others think it has caused

Environmentally the issues of global warming, rising sea levels, extreme weather patterns, melting polar ice caps, and carbon emissions are as urgent as ever.

We hear the earth’s alarm bells ringing but we seem far from agreed on how best to respond, not least, on the question of energy supplies, oil, gas, nuclear or renewable wind and wave, and how best to heat our homes.

And to all these big picture uncertainties, you can add the challenges and uncertainties of your home and work and family life.

In other words, there is more than enough to give each of us a sleepless night.

So as we gather to worship, a people of faith, let me ask about faith, its point and its purpose, especially in uncertain times.

And to help me explore the question is the troubled and troubling Hebrew prophet Jeremiah.

Having preached a controversial sermon in the Jerusalem’s temple, ² a sermon in which he warned people their worship of idols was as worthless as their pursuit of material wealth and riches at the expense of justice and truth, his urgent and repeated warning that unless they changed their ways the people of God would face the wrath of God, Jeremiah takes no pleasure when his preaching is vindicated.

At the mercy of their more powerful neighbours, God’s people are in despair as many of them are taken into exile.

Is the Lord not in Zion, they wail, is her King no longer there?

Is there no balm in Gilead, they ask, no healing for the wounds of the people?

Although it is not always an easy read—the searing condemnation and message of judgement can be quite overwhelming at times—what I want you to notice is that although Jeremiah lost faith in the people of Israel, Jeremiah never lost faith in God.

And because he never lost faith in God, Jeremiah was quite certain, even during uncertain times, God’s judgment on God’s people would not be the last word and final outcome.

Restoration and renewal would come—why—because God could be trusted to remain faithful to God’s promises.

And because God could be trusted to remain faithful to God’s promises, a new day would dawn, people would again buy houses and vineyards in the land, and God would write God’s laws in their hearts.

God could be trusted—God can be trusted

Whatever the challenges we face nationally or internationally, whatever the uncertainties swirling around us personally or environmentally or politically, at the heart of our faith stands a cross and an empty tomb, the sign and seal not just of God’s judgment on us and upon the world—it is most certainly that—but the sign and seal of God’s continuing concern, God’s continuing compassion, God’s continuing love for us and for the world.

God can be trusted and the apostle Paul surely put it best when he wrote that our present sufferings bear no comparison to the glory as yet unrevealed.

All of which is not to underplay or deny the uncertainties of these days, or to diminish the challenges and difficulties they present.

As the poet knew, as we all know, a sleepless night is no fun.

But it is to draw strength and hope from the promise of our faith that even as we lie in bed, tossing and turning, there is another who neither slumbers nor sleeps, and who lets our prayers break on Him, not like this for a few hours, but for days, years, for eternity.