Resuming the Race

"Moreover you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord: “Will they fall and not rise? Will one turn away and not return?"

Jeremiah 8:4, 7 NKJV

These words of the prophet Jeremiah are part of a poetic section with some striking images. Through poetry, he describes the refusal of a people and a city to be faithful to their God, and therefore on the path to death. No one who is aware of their condition would let themselves go. Anyone who falls tries to get up if they have the strength, otherwise they hope for someone's help. In the same way, those who realize they have taken the wrong path do not stubbornly continue, but understand that it is appropriate to turn back. These are precisely the questions posed by the text of verse 4: “Will they fall and not rise?” In reality, they do not encapsulate our hope or our doubts, but are God's sad observation of the foolish attitude of this people. Unlike animals, which know how to recognize the seasons for migration and the time to return (v. 7), the people of Jeremiah's time make no effort to correct their behavior. On the contrary, they live like horses rushing into battle. No horse would do this if it did not have blinders on and was not being ridden by someone. Luther compared human beings to horses, always ridden by someone, either the devil or God. According to him, humans are not capable of living as if they were in a supermarket, choosing, looking, and judging freely. But they are always ridden and, therefore, conditioned by someone for better or for worse.

We should ask ourselves from time to time who is riding us: an ideology, a desire, an ambition, or just the concerns of our time? What race are we running? Perhaps you are one of the many dominated by fear, thrown onto a road with no destination, whose end remains an immense nebula. On this battlefield, the fear of living and distrust of the Author of life inevitably abound. In the text under consideration, this leads to the self-destruction of a people incapable of change. In fact, despite this perspective, man's great fault is that he can convert (rise up, turn back) at any moment, but he does not do so. It would be as simple as birds following their instincts, but he does not do so. The words of the young prophet are imbued with all the pathos of God, whose words are those of Jeremiah. Jeremiah's no is a no that costs, to the point of risking even his life. Why does he fall? Why does he stray? These are the questions of a deeply wounded heart. It may seem excessive, but God suffers. And he suffers because he loves. God loves and therefore suffers, because he cannot stop them because of the freedom he has given them. Unfortunately, the covenant of the Law, an expression of an inner bond, has become formal: a dead letter, religious rituals. This is what many have become: horses with blinders on, with their ears plugged, no longer sensitive, living in the delusional illusion of being better than others. In this way, we lose sight of the things that matter, perhaps leaving the ancient paths, and passing by on the other side if we encounter someone who needs us.

“Everyone resumes their race, like a horse rushing into battle” is the terrible truth that goes against conscience, against God. The obstinacy produced by the conviction of being right. Do you remember Saul with the prophet Samuel after he partially obeyed the order to exterminate the Amalekites? Perhaps we have become apathetic in our frantic search for sensations, and we have not noticed it. The presumption of our decisions closes our ears to the sweet and subdued voice that wants to direct us to the good. If this is our condition, we cannot remain indifferent. Jeremiah did not want to speak, but he could not remain silent: a fire burned in his bones (20:7-9). His suffering was the suffering of the God in whom he believed and whom he served. I look to him, and for this reason I want to free myself from all oppression and everything that prevents me from seeing clearly. Like the prophet, I want to feel God's suffering. How can I do this? By turning my eyes to myself and asking myself in prayer at the end of the day, “What have I done?” It is enough to look at the other person. I am the subject of my concerns, not this person or that person whom I do not even know well. An old hymn recited, “It is I, it is I, Lord, who need to pray.” I want to find the courage to get up if I have fallen, and to find God's way again if I have strayed from it.

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Weekly Bible Reading Plan #47

November 17,  Ezekiel 5-7; Hebrews 12

November 18,  Ezekiel 8-10; Hebrews 13

November 19, Ezekiel 11-13; James 1

November 20, Ezekiel 14-15; James 2

November 21, Ezekiel 16-17; James 3

November 22, Ezekiel 18-19; James 4

November 23, Ezekiel 20-21; James 5