My teacher, James Muilenburg, repeatedly insisted to us that the first, very important task of exegesis was to determine the extent of the textual unit, where it began and where it ended. This is often clear and self-evident in scripture; but sometimes it is not. This lesson from Muilenburg came to mind for me on a recent Sunday when our senior pastor, Linda, preached a zinger of a sermon on Jeremiah 18:1-11. She observed that she had begun her thinking with 18:1-12, but then concluded that the textual unit ended with verse 11 and did not include verse 12. In this judgment she was in good company, including the usage in the Common Lectionary for Pentecost in year C. (Of course the Common Lectionary is well known for its propensity to “cherry pick” in order to omit the “hard parts” of scripture). The decision of our pastor (made in good company) that the textual unit ended with verse 11 let me ponder verse 12 and its function in the text of Jeremiah. (It is always interesting and most often productive to consider the parts of the biblical text that are left silent in the reading of the church).

It is entirely credible that our pastor decided that our reading should end at verse 11. Taken in this way, the text is an open invitation to Israel (and Jerusalem) to choose its own future by deciding afresh about its attitude, conduct and policy concerning public issues. Israel can choose whether to have YHWH’s announced verdict of “pluck up and tear down” go into effect, or whether to live differently so that YHWH may alternatively “build and plant.” The effect of such a reading is to affirm that the historical process is kept open, and the future will be determined by Israel’s choices. Such a reading vests Israel with great freedom and places great responsibility in Israel’s hands. Conversely, it presents YHWH as a God who is generous and patient, who will allow Israel such a decisive say in the historical process. YHWH’s governance is open to Israel’s decision-making, quite unlike the “law of the Medes and Persians which cannot be revoked” (Daniel 6:12).

When the text is read toward contemporeneity, as it surely must be in a sermon, the force of the text is to summon the listening congregation to great freedom and great responsibility. As our pastor tilted the text toward issues of racism (and particularly racism toward Native Americans), the congregation was called to accept its God-given freedom in relationship to Native Americans and to embrace its God-given responsibility for relationship to Native Americans. Jeremiah watched the potter turn the clay and noticed that the clay has considerable say in the outcome of the work of the potter. Thus we might expect, in a Methodist congregation, that the accent would be on human effort, human freedom, and human responsibility.

But then I reflected on verse 12 that we did not read that Sunday in church:

But they say, “It is no use! We will follow our own plans, and each of us will act according to the stubbornness of our evil will (v. 12).

It is plausible even to imagine that this verse was subsequently added to the text, even as it might have been “original” to the prophetic utterance. It might have been added belatedly by Jeremiah to an earlier utterance of the prophet. Either way, the inclusion of verse 12 decisively changes the import of the text. If we begin with verse 12, then the prophetic utterance looks back to a time when Israel had options for its future. But it has now in its foolish recalcitrance forfeited those options.  It has closed off its freedom and reneged on its responsibility. It has now reached a point of no return. Now, belatedly in Jerusalem, it is too late for choosing a future. By its active choices Israel has rejected the intent of God and has acted in accordance with the “stubbornness of our evil will.” Such a conclusion is more likely to be drawn in a Calvinist trajectory, my own inherited habitat with its high view of divine sovereignty that will not be mocked.

When the text runs toward contemporaneity in the sermon, as it surely must, this is a declaration that Israel has passed a point of no return, and must receive the inescapable outcomes of its stubborn evil choices. It could be that such a truth now needs to be uttered concerning our climate crisis. While the crisis of racism can perhaps be overcome through policies of restoration and reparation, it is much more difficult to imagine such a redress concerning the environment.

Thus it occurs to me, the preacher might, given consideration of various issues and crises that are before the congregation, might speak out differently, sometimes with verse 12 and sometimes without that verse. I conclude that the inclusion or exclusion of verse 12 in the textual unit will yield different outcomes and preaching options. Partly the decision about verse 12 is an exegetical judgment. But then one must decide if the prophet Jeremiah is issuing a summons to repent, or a declaration of an irreversible loss. Partly this is a matter of the personal inclination of the preacher, and most preachers will almost always opt for the “softer landing” that would exclude verse 12; most preachers don’t want to say hard things in the sermon, anymore than the congregation wants to hear hard things in the sermon.

But partly the decision about verse 12 is a matter of preaching strategy. It depends on what the preacher intends and what the preacher hopes to accomplish. Sometimes the preacher wants to summon the congregation to fresh awareness and bold action, thus a Methodist sort of accent. But sometimes the preacher wants to let the congregation see itself (and its world) in despair, so that and so driven to God’s grace, a Calvinist sort of accent. Both are possible, and both are indispensable to the practice of a good homiletical repertoire. Beyond that, it may be that Jeremiah himself had something of a double mind about the matter. It is possible that Jeremiah was sometimes a preacher of “repentance,” a theme voiced in chapter 11, an attitude often assigned to his earlier, more hope-filled years. But surely Jeremiah also judged that all was lost for Jerusalem. There was no escape from destruction and deportation that was sure to come. Thus it is possible that both accents are sounded by Jeremiah at different times, though we must judge that finally Jeremiah had no hope-filled word to report to his royal contemporaries, no hope before the crisis of 587 BCE. In the mist of that crisis of displacement and after the prophet begins to voice hope beyond the destruction.

I submit that a generative preaching strategy, beyond the personal inclination of the preacher, must include both accents at different times, a summons to action and an acknowledgement of hopeless despair that can only appeal to the grace of God.

Thus we might imagine two different chances for preaching from this text, one including verse 12 and one without verse 12. But of course, the hard part of all of this is the extent to which Christian preaching should sound “judgment” upon a society that is willfully arraigned against God’s will for mercy, justice, and peace. Such declaration of divine judgment needs to be done reluctantly and soberly, so that it is not simply the anger of the preacher. But such truth-telling is essential to our honest rendering of our world before God. Without such an utterance the church may become “the happiest place in town” that simply colludes in the denial that permeates society. Soon or late the congregation must face the reality that our socio-political economic life is a contradiction of the purposes of God.

It may be with great intentionality that the long editorial process that shaped our present book of Jeremiah soon arrives (after the somber poetry of 18:13-17), at the narrative report of 18:18 of a plot against Jeremiah. The plotters welcome the priest, the wise, and the prophet who offer what they want to hear. But they want to bring Jeremiah into court in order to silence him (on which see 26:1-19). And they resolve:

  Let us bring charges against him, and let us not heed any of his words (18:18).

The report of hostility to the prophet is anticipatory of the reaction such truth-telling is sure to evoke among us. I suspect that in most congregations there are those who fear and resist such truth-telling, but who at the same time want the truth to be told so that it can be honestly faced. It is no wonder that in such a context of refusal and resistance, that Jeremiah had to voice to YHWH his sense of betrayal, even betrayal by God’s own self.

O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed;

you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed.

I have become a laughingstock all day long;

everyone mocks me (20:7).

Nobody ever said the work of preaching was easy. Anyone who imagines it is easy has not understood its proper work. That proper work is done in the presence of God who is tricky enough, even without the wavering presence of the congregation. It is perhaps no wonder that Jesus was taken by some to be Jeremiah returned:

Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets (Matthew 16:14; see Matthew 2:17, 27:9).

Jesus was executed by the state because of his dangerous contradiction of present power arrangements.

A belated thought: it might be possible in a single sermon, with sufficient artistry, to voice both of these readings, with and without verse 12, without confusing the two. At the end of such a sermon, the pastor might say:

We have these two readings before us. One is a summons to action. One is an honest statement of irreversible trouble. We get to choose which one we will take seriously. If we decide for the first, we are summoned to bold action; if we decide on the second, we are led to rely, not on ourselves, but on our faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.

Finally concerning verse 12, it is not the preacher who will decide. It is the congregation that is drawn into the demands of listening and responding.