I hurt with the hurt of my people. I mourn and am overcome with grief. Is there no medicine in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why is there no healing for the wounds of my people?
If only my head were a pool of water and my eyes a fountain of tears, I would weep day and night for all my people who have been slaughtered. Oh, that I could go away and forget my people and live in a travelers’ shack in the desert. For they are all adulterers—a pack of treacherous liars. -- Jeremiah 8:21-9:2
This oracle reflects one of the qualities of Jeremiah that most impresses, and shames, me. Somehow, he was able to face and boldly state the ugly truth about his people (i.e., "They're all liars.") without losing his ability to love them. These were not people who were particularly kind to Jeremiah. He was ignored, imprisoned, and left for dead by them. Yet he was still able to weep for them. Despite his own confessed desire to be able to just abandon them to their fate and not care (9:2) Jeremiah had been so touched, so imprinted with the character of his God, that it was impossible for him to stop loving his people. Indeed, Jeremiah's capacity for compassion on the seemingly unforgivable has earned him the nickname "The Weeping Prophet."
I wish to be more like Jeremiah. Usually, when people reject my advice or instruction, I want to see them fail. I want to see them hurt. I want to see them punished. The fact of the matter, is that I'm often far more like Jonah than I am like Jeremiah.
Did You Know?
The classic hymn, There is a Balm in Gilead was inspired by Jeremiah's anguished cry in 8:22, "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why is there no healing for the wounds of my people?"
The hymn answers Jeremiah with the promise that Christ is that long-awaited balm who can soften the hardest heart, bring the dead to life again, and heal the deepest scars of sin.
