Praising and Cursing

Thankfulness and bitterness

Jeremiah 20:13-14: “Sing to the Lord! Give praise to the Lord! ... Cursed be the day I was born!”

In just two verses, Jeremiah expresses the extremes of thankfulness and bitterness. Unlike the psalmists, he pours out the thankfulness first, then the bitterness.

Isn’t that backwards? Aren’t we supposed to work our way up from pain and doubt to singing and praise? Are we allowed to follow Jeremiah’s example?

Yes! That’s one of the reasons I’m so thankful to the God of the Bible.

He knows who we are. He knows how quickly we can plummet from praising Him to wanting to die. So He gives us the examples and the encouragement in His Word to express ourselves honestly (even when it means venting anger and self-pity) and to keep coming back to Him no matter how low we’ve fallen.

The Christian life is never a smooth and easy road from repentance and conversion to Christlikeness and glory, always walking in perfect faith, with no setbacks and no stumbling. We shouldn’t expect it to be. We shouldn’t expect it in ourselves or in other believers.

And yet, Christians seem to feel a certain pressure to believe that we can defeat our fears and doubts effortlessly, trust God completely in all circumstances, and shun sin every time. Doesn’t God promise us that He’ll enable us to do all that right from the start (1 Corinthians 10:13, 2 Corinthians 5:17, Ephesians 4:22-24)? And if we do slip up, all we have to do is repent and it will never happen again.

When I was participating in a small discussion group at a church several years ago, the pastor leading us defined repentance as a total 180-degree turn-around. Period. Permanent. Anything less isn’t true repentance.

I understand that that’s the literal meaning of the word. I know that God expects and enables me to continue becoming more like Jesus. But I look at real life and wonder if anyone has ever truly repented, if that pastor’s definition is accurate.

How often do my thoughts and behavior turn around completely, never to turn back again? How often does my genuine sorrow and regret for having fallen short of my Lord’s high standards result in never again disappointing Him in that same way? How often does my turning away from doubting His love and provision result in never again facing that same doubt? Not very often. We’re all slow learners.

Jesus seems to take the opposite view from that pastor when He says in Luke 17:3-4, “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him.” Sounds like Jesus expects us to keep repeating our sins, even after truly repenting.

Reality

One of the strengths of Alcoholics Anonymous is the recognition that an alcoholic in recovery usually returns to his old habit at least one more time. Do they kick him out of the group at that point? Do they tell him that he never really repented of his drinking in the first place, since he’s doing it again?

No! They help him get back on his feet. After additional falls, and with the group’s support, he can eventually stop drinking. He can look back and tell you the number of years that he’s been sober. Initially, he could only give you the number of days he’d made it through before starting over at square one again.

The Bible is real. In Jeremiah chapter 20 we have a prophet, chosen and trusted by God to preach His word to the people, saying in one breath, “Praise the Lord!” and in the very next breath, “Cursed be the day I was born!” That’s an example I can follow.

Not because I want to. Not because I don’t really care about pleasing God. But because I’m human.

Jeremiah’s example

Verses 1 through 6 of this chapter describe how Pashhur the priest, “the chief officer in the temple of the Lord,” has Jeremiah beaten and placed in the stocks for the prophecies that he’d declared. As soon as he’s released, Jeremiah pronounces a scathing rebuke against Pashhur and a dire prophecy about Judah.

At this point, I’m filled with admiration. This guy’s got guts. He’s speaking God’s truth to one of the most powerful religious leaders in the country when he’s just been released from a painful and humiliating punishment for his earlier offensive prophecies. Don’t think I could do that.

This is a great man of God. I want to be just like him.

Until I read the next section (vs. 7-10). Depending on the translation, Jeremiah starts out by accusing God of deceiving, persuading, enticing, fooling, tricking, or forcing him to do what he’s been doing. The general sense is that God isn’t playing fair and Jeremiah feels used. How could the same man who stood up so bravely for his Lord suddenly turn on Him and question His very character?

Jeremiah then complains about the life God has called him to. Because his message is one of violence and destruction, he’s ridiculed, mocked, insulted, and reproached. Including by his friends. And yet he can’t help proclaiming that message.

Verses 11-13 express his faith and hope and thankfulness. He knows that the Lord is with him and that justice will prevail in the end. He asks the Almighty God to avenge him for his undeserved suffering. He praises Him in his gratitude. Back to the good-guy, this-is-what-a-prophet-should-be personality.

Until he steps off the cliff and curses the day he was born. He continues along that line for the next four verses. The passage ends on a negative and depressing note.

What are we to think of this waffling prophet? His great courage in facing Pashhur. His bitter complaint as he questions God’s trustworthiness. His praise for the Lord’s faithfulness. His height of brief but intense thankfulness. His plunge into despair.

Should we try to be like him? Yes, when he’s at his best. But I’m not sure that that’s the right question to ask. I should be asking, “Am I like him?” Honestly, I’m more like him when he’s doubting and grumbling than when he’s speaking boldly to the one who has so much power over him.

But even in his complaining, Jeremiah sets a good example for me. He addresses his words to God as a sort of prayer. He doesn’t go to the people around him, badmouthing Pashhur and telling others how the Lord has disappointed him. He works through his confusion and bitterness and weariness in God’s presence. And those moments of strength and conviction follow. Even if they don’t last.

So I’m thankful for this book of Jeremiah. It’s a hard read. There’s so little in it that’s uplifting. Unlike the book of Isaiah, there are few promises of a glorious future. But there’s the example of a great prophet expressing exuberant thankfulness, only to fall into despair in the very next verse. I can relate to that.

And I’m thankful that at this time of year, nearly every year, I can honestly celebrate a day of Thanksgiving without immediately following that thought with cursing the day I was born.