Study Desk

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride. Leave Lebanon behind, and come. Leave your high mountain hideaway. Abandon your wilderness seclusion, Where you keep company with lions and panthers guard your safety. You've captured my heart, dear friend. You looked at me, and I fell in love. One look my way and I was hopelessly in love! How beautiful your love, dear, dear friend— far more pleasing than a fine, rare wine, your fragrance more exotic than select spices. The kisses of your lips are honey, my love, every syllable you speak a delicacy to savor. Your clothes smell like the wild outdoors, the ozone scent of high mountains. Dear lover and friend, you're a secret garden, a private and pure fountain. Body and soul, you are paradise, a whole orchard of succulent fruits— Ripe apricots and peaches, oranges and pears; Nut trees and cinnamon, and all scented woods; Mint and lavender, and all herbs aromatic; A garden fountain, sparkling and splashing, fed by spring waters from the Lebanon mountains.

At that time, God -of-the-Angel-Armies will be the beautiful crown on the head of what's left of his people: Energy and insights of justice to those who guide and decide, strength and prowess to those who guard and protect.

Out of here! Out of here! Leave this place! Don't look back. Don't contaminate yourselves with plunder. Just leave, but leave clean. Purify yourselves in the process of worship, carrying the holy vessels of God . But you don't have to be in a hurry. You're not running from anybody! God is leading you out of here, and the God of Israel is also your rear guard.

When the Chaldean army pulled back from Jerusalem, Jeremiah left Jerusalem to go over to the territory of Benjamin to take care of some personal business. When he got to the Benjamin Gate, the officer on guard there, Irijah son of Shelemiah, son of Hananiah, grabbed Jeremiah the prophet, accusing him, "You're deserting to the Chaldeans!"

So they took Jeremiah and threw him into the cistern of Malkijah the king's son that was in the courtyard of the palace guard. They lowered him down with ropes. There wasn't any water in the cistern, only mud. Jeremiah sank into the mud.

And so they pulled Jeremiah up out of the cistern by the ropes. But he was still confined in the courtyard of the palace guard.

"The Levites who walked off and left me, along with everyone else—all Israel—who took up with all the no-god idols, will pay for everything they did wrong. From now on they'll do only the menial work in the Sanctuary: guard the gates and help out with the Temple chores—and also kill the sacrificial animals for the people and serve them. Because they acted as priests to the no-god idols and made my people Israel stumble and fall, I've taken an oath to punish them. Decree of God , the Master. Yes, they'll pay for what they've done. They're fired from the priesthood. No longer will they come into my presence and take care of my holy things. No more access to The Holy Place! They'll have to live with what they've done, carry the shame of their vile and obscene lives. From now on, their job is to sweep up and run errands. That's it.

Do you think you're superior to Egyptian Thebes, proudly invincible on the River Nile, Protected by the great River, walled in by the River, secure? Ethiopia stood guard to the south, Egypt to the north. Put and Libya, strong friends, were ready to step in and help. But you know what happened to her: The whole city was marched off to a refugee camp, Her babies smashed to death in public view on the streets, Her prize leaders auctioned off, her celebrities put in chain gangs. Expect the same treatment, Nineveh. You'll soon be staggering like a bunch of drunks, Wondering what hit you, looking for a place to sleep it off. All your forts are like peach trees, the lush peaches ripe, ready for the picking. One shake of the tree and they fall straight into hungry mouths. Face it: Your warriors are wimps. You're sitting ducks. Your borders are gaping doors, inviting your enemies in. And who's to stop them?

Let the Nations Get Their Fill of the Ugly Truth Doom to Murder City— full of lies, bursting with loot, addicted to violence! Horns blaring, wheels clattering, horses rearing, chariots lurching, Horsemen galloping, brandishing swords and spears, Dead bodies rotting in the street, corpses stacked like cordwood, Bodies in every gutter and alley, clogging every intersection! And whores! Whores without end! Whore City, Fatally seductive, you're the Witch of Seduction, luring nations to their ruin with your evil spells. "I'm your enemy, Whore Nineveh— I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! I'll strip you of your seductive silk robes and expose you on the world stage. I'll let the nations get their fill of the ugly truth of who you really are and have been all along. I'll pelt you with dog dung and place you on a pedestal: ‘Slut on Exhibit.' Everyone who sees you will gag and say, ‘Nineveh's a pigsty: What on earth did we ever see in her? Who would give her a second look? Ugh!'" Do you think you're superior to Egyptian Thebes, proudly invincible on the River Nile, Protected by the great River, walled in by the River, secure? Ethiopia stood guard to the south, Egypt to the north. Put and Libya, strong friends, were ready to step in and help. But you know what happened to her: The whole city was marched off to a refugee camp, Her babies smashed to death in public view on the streets, Her prize leaders auctioned off, her celebrities put in chain gangs. Expect the same treatment, Nineveh. You'll soon be staggering like a bunch of drunks, Wondering what hit you, looking for a place to sleep it off. All your forts are like peach trees, the lush peaches ripe, ready for the picking. One shake of the tree and they fall straight into hungry mouths. Face it: Your warriors are wimps. You're sitting ducks. Your borders are gaping doors, inviting your enemies in. And who's to stop them? Store up water for the siege. Shore up your defenses. Get down to basics: Work the clay and make bricks. Sorry. Too late. Enemy fire will burn you up. Swords will cut you to pieces. You'll be chewed up as if by locusts. Yes, as if by locusts—a fitting fate, for you yourselves are a locust plague. You've multiplied shops and shopkeepers— more buyers and sellers than stars in the sky! A plague of locusts, cleaning out the neighborhood and then flying off. Your bureaucrats are locusts, your brokers and bankers are locusts. Early on, they're all at your service, full of smiles and promises, But later when you return with questions or complaints, you'll find they've flown off and are nowhere to be found. King of Assyria! Your shepherd-leaders, in charge of caring for your people, Are busy doing everything else but. They're not doing their job, And your people are scattered and lost. There's no one to look after them. You're past the point of no return. Your wound is fatal. When the story of your fate gets out, the whole world will applaud and cry "Encore!" Your cruel evil has seeped into every nook and cranny of the world. Everyone has felt it and suffered.

Let the Nations Get Their Fill of the Ugly Truth Doom to Murder City— full of lies, bursting with loot, addicted to violence! Horns blaring, wheels clattering, horses rearing, chariots lurching, Horsemen galloping, brandishing swords and spears, Dead bodies rotting in the street, corpses stacked like cordwood, Bodies in every gutter and alley, clogging every intersection! And whores! Whores without end! Whore City, Fatally seductive, you're the Witch of Seduction, luring nations to their ruin with your evil spells. "I'm your enemy, Whore Nineveh— I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! I'll strip you of your seductive silk robes and expose you on the world stage. I'll let the nations get their fill of the ugly truth of who you really are and have been all along. I'll pelt you with dog dung and place you on a pedestal: ‘Slut on Exhibit.' Everyone who sees you will gag and say, ‘Nineveh's a pigsty: What on earth did we ever see in her? Who would give her a second look? Ugh!'" Do you think you're superior to Egyptian Thebes, proudly invincible on the River Nile, Protected by the great River, walled in by the River, secure? Ethiopia stood guard to the south, Egypt to the north. Put and Libya, strong friends, were ready to step in and help. But you know what happened to her: The whole city was marched off to a refugee camp, Her babies smashed to death in public view on the streets, Her prize leaders auctioned off, her celebrities put in chain gangs. Expect the same treatment, Nineveh. You'll soon be staggering like a bunch of drunks, Wondering what hit you, looking for a place to sleep it off. All your forts are like peach trees, the lush peaches ripe, ready for the picking. One shake of the tree and they fall straight into hungry mouths. Face it: Your warriors are wimps. You're sitting ducks. Your borders are gaping doors, inviting your enemies in. And who's to stop them? Store up water for the siege. Shore up your defenses. Get down to basics: Work the clay and make bricks. Sorry. Too late. Enemy fire will burn you up. Swords will cut you to pieces. You'll be chewed up as if by locusts. Yes, as if by locusts—a fitting fate, for you yourselves are a locust plague. You've multiplied shops and shopkeepers— more buyers and sellers than stars in the sky! A plague of locusts, cleaning out the neighborhood and then flying off. Your bureaucrats are locusts, your brokers and bankers are locusts. Early on, they're all at your service, full of smiles and promises, But later when you return with questions or complaints, you'll find they've flown off and are nowhere to be found.

A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "Get a grip on things. Hold tight, you who are listening to what I say through the preaching of the prophets. The Temple of God -of-the-Angel-Armies has been reestablished. The Temple is being rebuilt. We've come through a hard time: You worked for a pittance and were lucky to get that; the streets were dangerous; you could never let down your guard; I had turned the world into an armed camp.

Rebuilding the Temple And then these Messages from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "I am zealous for Zion—I care! I'm angry about Zion—I'm involved!" God 's Message: "I've come back to Zion, I've moved back to Jerusalem. Jerusalem's new names will be Truth City, and Mountain of God -of-the-Angel-Armies, and Mount Holiness." A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "Old men and old women will come back to Jerusalem, sit on benches on the streets and spin tales, move around safely with their canes—a good city to grow old in. And boys and girls will fill the public parks, laughing and playing—a good city to grow up in." A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "Do the problems of returning and rebuilding by just a few survivors seem too much? But is anything too much for me? Not if I have my say." A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "I'll collect my people from countries to the east and countries to the west. I'll bring them back and move them into Jerusalem. They'll be my people and I'll be their God. I'll stick with them and do right by them." A Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "Get a grip on things. Hold tight, you who are listening to what I say through the preaching of the prophets. The Temple of God -of-the-Angel-Armies has been reestablished. The Temple is being rebuilt. We've come through a hard time: You worked for a pittance and were lucky to get that; the streets were dangerous; you could never let down your guard; I had turned the world into an armed camp. "But things have changed. I'm taking the side of my core of surviving people: Sowing and harvesting will resume, Vines will grow grapes, Gardens will flourish, Dew and rain will make everything green. "My core survivors will get everything they need—and more. You've gotten a reputation as a bad-news people, you people of Judah and Israel, but I'm coming to save you. From now on, you're the good-news people. Don't be afraid. Keep a firm grip on what I'm doing."

And here's a second offense: You fill the place of worship with your whining and sniveling because you don't get what you want from God . Do you know why? Simple. Because God was there as a witness when you spoke your marriage vows to your young bride, and now you've broken those vows, broken the faith-bond with your vowed companion, your covenant wife. God , not you, made marriage. His Spirit inhabits even the smallest details of marriage. And what does he want from marriage? Children of God, that's what. So guard the spirit of marriage within you. Don't cheat on your spouse.

"I hate divorce," says the God of Israel. God -of-the-Angel-Armies says, "I hate the violent dismembering of the ‘one flesh' of marriage." So watch yourselves. Don't let your guard down. Don't cheat.

The captain of the guard and those with him, when they saw the earthquake and everything else that was happening, were scared to death. They said, "This has to be the Son of God!"

Pilate told them, "You will have a guard. Go ahead and secure it the best you can." So they went out and secured the tomb, sealing the stone and posting guards.

But Jesus, with a loud cry, gave his last breath. At that moment the Temple curtain ripped right down the middle. When the Roman captain standing guard in front of him saw that he had quit breathing, he said, "This has to be the Son of God!"

They sailed on to the country of the Gerasenes, directly opposite Galilee. As he stepped out onto land, a madman from town met him; he was a victim of demons. He hadn't worn clothes for a long time, nor lived at home; he lived in the cemetery. When he saw Jesus he screamed, fell before him, and bellowed, "What business do you have messing with me? You're Jesus, Son of the High God, but don't give me a hard time!" (The man said this because Jesus had started to order the unclean spirit out of him.) Time after time the demon threw the man into convulsions. He had been placed under constant guard and tied with chains and shackles, but crazed and driven wild by the demon, he would shatter the bonds.

"When a strong man, armed to the teeth, stands guard in his front yard, his property is safe and sound. But what if a stronger man comes along with superior weapons? Then he's beaten at his own game, the arsenal that gave him such confidence hauled off, and his precious possessions plundered.

Jesus commented, "Even more blessed are those who hear God's Word and guard it with their lives!"