'And it came to pass, that when the army of the Chaldeans was broken up
from Jerusalem for fear of Pharaoh's arm, 12. Then Jeremiah went forth
out of Jerusalem to go into the land of Benjamin, to separate himself
thence in the midst of the people. 13. And when he was in the gate of
Benjamin, a captain of the ward was there, whose name was Irijah, the
son of Shelemiah, the son of Hananiah; and he took Jeremiah the
prophet, saying, Thou fallest away to the Chaldeans. 14. Then said
Jeremiah, It is false; I fall not away to the Chaldeans. But he
hearkened not to him: so Irijah took Jeremiah, and brought him to the
princes. 15. Wherefore the princes were wroth with Jeremiah, and smote
him, and put him in prison in the house of Jonathan the scribe: for
they had made that the prison. 16. When Jeremiah was entered into the
dungeon, and into the cabins, and Jeremiah had remained there many
days; 17. Then Zedekiah the king sent, and took him out: and the king
asked him secretly in his house, and said, Is there any word from the
Lord? And Jeremiah said, There is: for, said he, thou shalt be
delivered into the hand of the king of Babylon. 18. Moreover, Jeremiah
said unto king Zedekiah, What have I offended against thee, or against
thy servants, or against this people, that ye have put me in prison?
19. Where are now your prophets which prophesied unto you, saying, The
king of Babylon shall not come against you, nor against this land? 20.
Therefore hear now, I pray thee, O my lord the king: let my
supplication, I pray thee, be accepted before thee; that thou cause me
not to return to the house of Jonathan the scribe, lest I die there.
21. Then Zedekiah the king commanded that they should commit Jeremiah
into the court of the prison, and that they should give him daily a
piece of bread out of the bakers' street, until all the bread in the
city were spent. Thus Jeremiah remained in the court of the
prison.'--JER. xxxvii. 11-21.
SOME sixteen years had passed since Jehoiakim had burned the roll,
during all of which the slow gathering of the storm, which was to break
over the devoted city, had been going on, and Jeremiah had been vainly
calling on the people to return to Jehovah. The last agony was now not
far off. But there came a momentary pause in the siege, produced by the
necessity of an advance against a relieving army from Egypt, which
created fallacious hopes in the doomed city. It was only a pause. Back
came the investing force, and again the terrible, lingering process of
starving into surrender was resumed. Our text begins with the raising
of the siege, and extends to some point after its resumption. It needs
little elucidation, so clearly is the story told, and so natural are
the incidents; but perhaps we shall best gather its instruction if we
look at the three sets of actors separately, and note the hostile
authorities, the patient prophet and prisoner, and the feeble king. The
play of these strongly contrasted characters is full of vividness and
instruction.
I. We have that rough 'captain of the ward,' who laid hands on the
prophet at the gate on the north side of the city, leading to the road
to the territory of Benjamin. No doubt there was a considerable exodus
from Jerusalem when the Assyrian lines were deserted, and common
prudence would have facilitated it, as reducing the number of mouths to
be fed, in case the siege were renewed; but malice is not prudent, and,
instead of letting the hated Jeremiah slip quietly away home to
Anathoth, and so getting rid of his prophecies and him, Irijah ('the
Lord is a beholder') arrested him on a charge of meditating desertion
to the enemy. It was a colourable accusation, for Jeremiah's constant
exhortation had been to 'go out to the Chaldeans,' and so secure life
and mild treatment. But it was clearly false, for the Chaldeans were
for the moment gone, and the time was the very worst that could have
been chosen for a contemplated flight to their camp.
The real reason for the prophet's wish to leave the city was only too
simple. It was to see if he could get 'a portion'--some of his
property, or perhaps rather some little store of food--to take back to
the famine-scourged city, which, he knew, would soon be again at
starvation-point. There appears to have been a little company of
fellow-villagers with him, for 'in the midst of the people' (v. 12) is
to be construed with 'to go into the land of Benjamin.' The others seem
to have been let pass, and only Jeremiah detained, which makes the
charge more evidently a trumped-up excuse for laying hands on him.
Jeremiah calls it in plain words what it was--'a lie'--and protests his
innocence of any such design. But the officious Irijah knew too well
how much of a feather in his cap his getting hold of the prophet would
be, to heed his denials, and dragged him off to the princes.
Sixteen years ago 'the princes' round Jehoiakim had been the prophet's
friends; but either a new generation had come with a new king, or else
the tempers of the men had changed with the growing misery. Their
behaviour was more lawless than the soldiers' had been. They did not
even pretend to examine the prisoner, but blazed up at once in anger.
They had him in their power now, and did their worst, lawlessly
scourging him first, and then thrusting him into 'the house of the
pit'--some dark, underground hole, below the house of an official,
where there were a number of 'cells'--filthy and stifling, no doubt;
and there they left him. What for?
The charge of intended desertion was a mere excuse for wreaking their
malice on him. They hated Jeremiah because he had steadily opposed the
popular determination to fight, and had foretold disaster. Add to this
that he had held up a high standard of religion and morality to a
corrupt and idolatrous people, and his 'unpopularity' is sufficiently
explained.
Would that the same causes did not produce the same effects now!
Individuals still think an honest rebuke of their faults an insult, and
a plain statement of their danger a sign of ill-feeling. Try to warn a
drunkard or a profligate by telling him of the disease and misery which
will dog his sins, or by setting plainly before him God's law of purity
and sobriety, and you will find that the prophet's function still
brings with it, in many cases, the prophet's doom. But still more truly
is this the case with masses, whether nations or cities. A spurious
patriotism resents as unpatriotic the far truer love of country which
sets a trumpet to its mouth to tell the people their sins. In all
democratic communities, whether republican or regal in their form of
government, a crying evil is flattery of the masses, exalting their
virtues and foretelling their prosperity, while hiding their faults and
slurring over the requirements of morality and religion, which are the
foundations of prosperity. What did England do with her prophets? What
did America do with hers? What wages do they get to-day? The men who
dare to tell their countrymen their faults, and to preach temperance,
peace, civic purity, personal morality, are laid hold of by the Irijahs
who preside over the newspapers, and are pilloried as deserters and
half traitors at heart.
II. We see the patient, unmoved prophet. One flash of honest
indignation repels the charge of deserting, and then he is silent. 'As
a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.' It is
useless to plead before lawless violence. A silent martyr eloquently
condemns an unjust judge. So, without opposition or apparent
remonstrance, Jeremiah is cast into the foul den where he lies for
'many days,' patiently bearing his fate, and speaking his complaint to
God only. How long his imprisonment lasted does not appear; but the
context implies that during it the siege was resumed, and that there
was difficulty in procuring bread. Then the king sent for him secretly.
Zedekiah's temper at the time will be considered presently. Here we
have to do with Jeremiah's answer to his question. In it we may note,
as equally prominent and beautifully blended, respect, submission,
consciousness of peril and impending death, and unshaken boldness. He
knew that his life was at the disposal of the capricious, feeble
Zedekiah. He bows before him as his subject, and brings his
'supplication'; but not one jot of his message will he abate, nor
smooth down its terribleness an atom. He repeats as unfalteringly as
ever the assurance that the king of Babylon will take the city. He
asserts his own innocence as regards king and courtiers and people; and
he asks the scornful question what has become of all the smooth-tongued
prophets of prosperity, as if he were bidding the king look over the
city wall and see the tokens of their lies and of Jeremiah's truth in
the investing lines of the all but victorious enemy.
Such a combination of perfect meekness and perfect courage, unstained
loyalty to his king, and supreme obedience to his God, was only
possible to a man who lived in very close communion with Jehovah, and
had learned thereby to fear none less, because he feared Him so well,
and to reverence all else whom He had set in places of reverence. True
courage, of the pattern which befits God's servants, is ever gentle.
Bluster is the sign of weakness. A Christian hero--and no man will be a
Christian as he ought to be, who has not something of the hero in
him--should win by meekness. Does not the King of all such ride
prosperously 'because of truth and meekness,' and must not the armies
which follow Him do the same? Faithful witnessing to men of their sins
need not be rude, harsh, or self-asserting. But we must live much in
fellowship with the Lord of all the meek and the pattern of all patient
sufferers and faithful witnesses, if we are ever to be like Him, or
even like His pale shadow as seen in this meek prophet. The fountains
of strength and of patience spring side by side at the foot of the
cross.
III. We have the weak Zedekiah, with his pitiable vacillation. He had
been Nebuchadnezzar's nominee, and had served him for some years, and
then rebelled. His whole career indicates a feeble nature, taking the
impression of anything which was strongly laid on it. He was a king of
putty, when the times demanded one of iron. He was cowed by the
'princes.' Sometimes he was afraid to disobey Jeremiah, and then afraid
to let his masters know that he was so. Thus he sends for the prophet
stealthily, and his first question opens a depth of conflict in his
soul. He did believe that the prophet spoke the word of Jehovah, and
yet he could not muster up courage to follow his convictions and go
against the princes and the mob. He wanted another 'word' from Jehovah,
by which he meant a word of another sort than the former. He could not
bring his mind to obey the word which he had, and so he weakly hoped
that perhaps God's word might be changed into one that he would be
willing to obey. Many men are, like him, asking, 'Is there any word
from the Lord?' and meaning, 'Is there any change in the condition of
receiving His favour?'
He had interest enough in the prophet to interfere for his comfort, and
to have him put into better quarters in the palace and provided with a
'circle' (a round loaf) of bread out of Baker Street, as long as there
was any in the city--not a very long time. But why did he do so much,
and not do more? He knew that Jeremiah was innocent, and that his word
was God's; and what he should have done was to have shaken off his
masterful 'servants,' followed his conscience, and obeyed God. Why did
he not? Because he was a coward, infirm of purpose, and therefore
'unstable as water.'
He is another of the tragic examples, with which all life as well as
scripture is studded, of how much evil is possible to a weak character.
In this world, where there are so many temptations to be bad, no man
will be good who cannot strongly say 'No.' The virtue of strength of
will may be but like the rough fence round young trees to keep cattle
from browsing on them and east winds from blighting them. But the fence
is needed, if the trees are to grow. 'To be weak is to be miserable,'
and sinful too, generally. 'Whom resist' must be the motto for all
noble, God-like, and God-pleasing life.