Saturday, November 22, 2025

Live; Jeremiah 29:4-14

 

Rev. George Miller

Nov 23, 2025

Jeremiah 29:4-14

 

Last Sunday, I stated “St. Lucas is going to “St. Lucas.”  After last week, ya’ll can say “Pastor George is going to ‘Pastor George.’ 

 

What was I doing by coming in knowing I was nowhere near 100%, or even 25%?  Some of it was the “show must go on” mentality of a theater kid.  Some of it was being a Miller- we simply don’t call in sick, we push through.

 

Last week I could not push

through or stand, but ya’ll stood by me. 

 

St. Lucas showed love by bringing water, encouragement to sit, and adapting to an unexpected service. 

 

You were Big Mamas and Big Papas who said “You need to go the hospital,” when I thought it could be slept off on the couch.

 

I apologize for the worry that was caused last Sunday.  At the same time, if it did not happen, I would not have known there was an issue that needed treatment.

 

I am proud of you- on the spot, St. Lucas embodied what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ, as well as to be the wisdom and chariot of the King.

 

Some may think Christianity is about having the right things memorized, or showing up every Sunday, but often it is about how you show up in the everyday things, how you interact with others, the kindness shared.

 

Viktor’s Mom in Colombia sent me this message “Everyone offers what they have.  Here I leave you a coffee, a hug, and a happy day.”

 

A coffee.  A hug.  A happy day.  I think Christ would agree and embrace the simplicity. 

 

Coffee- Fellowship/Communion.

A hug- Compassion.

A happy day- Heaven, right here. 

 

Today we celebrate Christ The King; not the kind of King we saw in Amos who accepts bribes nor the cowardly King in Isaiah.

 

Christ is the King who embodies things like fellowship, compassion, and God’s will be done here, on Earth.  Today’s reading offers a hint of what “Thy will be done, on Earth,” looks like.

 

160 years ago, Amos the shepherd told the Kings of the North and South that God wasn’t pleased with their behavior  or impressed with their fake piety.

 

140 years ago Isaiah told the Southern King- “Stay; wait; trust that God will work this out.”

 

But none of the kings listened, their ingrained dysfunctions has made the whole body weak. Now the worst thing has happened.

 

Babylon, seeing just how disunited Judah is, attacks.  They demolish local businesses, burn the fields, and destroy the Temple.

 

Then, they take the who’s who of Judah away into Exile.  The King and Queen, the royal court and Temple personnel.  The soldiers, artisans, engineers and architects.

 

If you had a skill, if you could add to the economy, if you could build, make, fix, fight, create, you were taken 900 miles away to Babylon.

 

If you were not seen as “good enough” or able to bolster the economy, if you were too old, too arthritic, you were left in Judah, to face the burnt fields, barren businesses, and broken temple.

 

What a conundrum created by the kings who could have simply kept the Commandments and Covenant. 

 

Now the nation is torn asunder; some citizens live in ruins, others in a strange new land.  It is to the exiles that Jeremiah writes too. 

 

He knows they are there for the long haul, a situation that could mark the end of their existence.

 

Speaking on behalf of God, Jeremiah gives them this advice- LIVE.

 

To this group of folk who have experienced severe trauma, Jeremiah says “Live.  Build houses; turn them into homes.  Connect with the earth and eat what you plant.  Get married.  Have babies and grandbabies.”

 

To fractured folk 900 miles away from familiar faces, God says “Plant seeds, grow, be part of the community, pray for it’s welfare.”

 

If you want to know why the enslaved people of Africa were able to endure; if you’ve wondered how your ancestors were able to cross an ocean and thrive, know it’s because of scripture like this that speaks to the sojourners, the immigrants, to anyone who’s ever had to go from “here” to “there.”

 

This idea of acceptance that says “Even when the situation is not ideal, you can establish a sense of home, a sense of purpose, a sense of continuity and community.”

 

Not to say that any of this would be easy for the exiles.  They went from stone homes built in the hills to mudbrick houses on flat land.

 

They went from growing olives, grapes, and wheat, to cucumbers, dates, and barley.  

 

They went from having the best vineyards and wine in the world to malt liquor and expensive imports.

 

For people in which oil and wine were instrumental in their worship,  without olives and grapes they faced a liturgical loss, like how COVID reshaped Communion.

 

Jeremiah addresses this in a way similar to Viktor’s Mom- “Do what you can, offer what you have: coffee, a hug, and a happy day.”

 

When reading Jeremiah’s words about homes, gardens, fellowship, it sounds like heaven.

 

Jeremiah is saying “Find a way to make heaven here on earth.  When you build, grow, seek the city’s welfare, God is there.”

 

In some ways, that’s what Christ is King is all about.  Christ is the King who is right there to seek the welfare of all, who finds ways to make heaven here on earth.

 

When saying Christ is King we’re not saying Christ dominates or subordinates, is easily bribed or conquers cities. 

 

We mean Christ is a King who joins us at a wedding and when the wine runs out, says “Trust me- there’s more” and invites the inbreaking of heaven.

 

Christ is the King who engages with a foreign woman of differing faith and does not humiliate her.

 

Christ is the King who offers health care to an official’s son and a man laying by the gate.

 

Christ is the King who says “Come and inherit the kingdom for you fed me when I was hungry, gave me something to drink when I was thirsty, you cared for me when I was sick and welcomed me when I was a stranger.”

 

Christ is the King who wants us to have a happy home, be able to provide, eat, fall in love, and have a family.

 

Christ is the King who wants us to pray for the well-being of the community, and benefit from the community’s well-being.

 

What an empowering way to think of Jesus; a fabulous way to embody our faith.

 

Not separate; but part of.  Not as victims, but survivors. Not alone, but together.  Not detached, but connected.

 

This is the King we celebrate today; the King we travel back to Bethlehem to greet.

 

Christ is the King whose hands and feet we are invited to every week, and every day, no matter where we are.                     Amen.

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