Jeremiah 18:12 – Pride's Paralyzing Poison
And they said, “That is hopeless! So we will walk according to our own plans, and we will every one obey the dictates of his evil heart.” Jeremiah 18:12, New King James Version
Brandon Heath in "Sore Eyes" diagnoses that being "full of regret" can be "sweet and bitter."
This is evident in Jeremiah 18:12. It's a phenomenon called secondary gain. We suffer from something, in this case, the rightful conviction of what we are doing wrong. The voice of the culture lamenting in the verse is correct that the heart of evil courses through the decisions that have become conventional wisdom.
But, what then? Collectively, and strangely, they find this state sweet and bitter. Rather than resolve to demonstrate repentant choices, they tip over and wallow in condemning themselves where God has not, pointedly, rendered a final verdict.
Now that the culture has heard Jeremiah at all, it has zeroed in on the worst consequences. Its members have missed that, through him, God has been holding out if-then hypotheticals, luring toward trusting in His enduring mercy, enticing toward trusting in the righteousness of His ways.
It's strange how, once we begin to perceive the macabre pull of the bad news, we have difficulty allowing that there CAN be good news on the other side. Brandon Heath notes it, rejoicing that God's outside intervention can bring "light back in our eyes to stay."
In the abstract, we want that. We certainly want it for our neighbors or our spouses who have ought against us. We want them to see the world, and especially to see us through new eyes. But accepting that transplant ourselves seems more complicated.
We have to soberly consider how sweet, really, is the sweetness of regret? How good, really, has it been in bondage, as the Israelites tended to look back on Egypt through gauzy nostalgia?
Where have we allowed our overall sorrow, at once condemning and yet dissipated to meaninglessness in terms of specific application, to give us the appearance of holiness without the resolve to get up and do differently?
THIS is faith. This is what God insisted on to Joshua as His man lay prostrate, realizing the cost of his sin. Get up, God said, and still says. His call if we accept His verdict on our past is to accept His capacity to renew our future to His glory and our good.
Brandon Heath in "Sore Eyes" diagnoses that being "full of regret" can be "sweet and bitter."
This is evident in Jeremiah 18:12. It's a phenomenon called secondary gain. We suffer from something, in this case, the rightful conviction of what we are doing wrong. The voice of the culture lamenting in the verse is correct that the heart of evil courses through the decisions that have become conventional wisdom.
But, what then? Collectively, and strangely, they find this state sweet and bitter. Rather than resolve to demonstrate repentant choices, they tip over and wallow in condemning themselves where God has not, pointedly, rendered a final verdict.
Now that the culture has heard Jeremiah at all, it has zeroed in on the worst consequences. Its members have missed that, through him, God has been holding out if-then hypotheticals, luring toward trusting in His enduring mercy, enticing toward trusting in the righteousness of His ways.
It's strange how, once we begin to perceive the macabre pull of the bad news, we have difficulty allowing that there CAN be good news on the other side. Brandon Heath notes it, rejoicing that God's outside intervention can bring "light back in our eyes to stay."
In the abstract, we want that. We certainly want it for our neighbors or our spouses who have ought against us. We want them to see the world, and especially to see us through new eyes. But accepting that transplant ourselves seems more complicated.
We have to soberly consider how sweet, really, is the sweetness of regret? How good, really, has it been in bondage, as the Israelites tended to look back on Egypt through gauzy nostalgia?
Where have we allowed our overall sorrow, at once condemning and yet dissipated to meaninglessness in terms of specific application, to give us the appearance of holiness without the resolve to get up and do differently?
THIS is faith. This is what God insisted on to Joshua as His man lay prostrate, realizing the cost of his sin. Get up, God said, and still says. His call if we accept His verdict on our past is to accept His capacity to renew our future to His glory and our good.
I have met numerous people who seem at home in loathsomeness and regret. It is not that they particularly love and adore such a state but that it is all they know, it is like an old shirt that is torn and tattered yet known and worn-in. This self-abuse is a Protestant form of penance, a flagellation of the soul. This is, as you say, how we can appear holy while still hanging out with the pigs in a far off land. Paul hints at this in Colossians 2:23 when he says that super-religious looking people appear wise, but all that they do is useless with regard to their heart's struggle against sin.
ReplyDeleteIt is an exercise of faith to move on from regret and sorrow and to receive God's grace over our past as well as our present and future. We cling to these things because we feel that in them we are receiving a due punishment and in some way we are reconciling our past actions with God's standards. I am thankful that my Savior has greater plans for me than my regret and sorrow.
Regret is a Protestant form of penance. Well said! I'm stealing it.
DeleteAs I mull over the next verses for tomorrow, I'm considering how the new start in itself can be an idol. They got this past track record of a relationship with God. Yes, they've entirely abused it, but He has been so faithful. They would rather flagellate themselves then go back to that real and renewing relationship. The nations marvel.