Study Desk

"Attention! I'm bringing a far-off nation against you, O house of Israel." God 's Decree. "A solid nation, an ancient nation, A nation that speaks another language. You won't understand a word they say. When they aim their arrows, you're as good as dead. They're a nation of real fighters! They'll clean you out of house and home, rob you of crops and children alike. They'll feast on your sheep and cattle, strip your vines and fig trees. And the fortresses that made you feel so safe— leveled with a stroke of the sword!

"My people are infiltrated by wicked men, unscrupulous men on the hunt. They set traps for the unsuspecting. Their victims are innocent men and women. Their houses are stuffed with ill-gotten gain, like a hunter's bag full of birds. Pretentious and powerful and rich, hugely obese, oily with rolls of fat. Worse, they have no conscience. Right and wrong mean nothing to them. They stand for nothing, stand up for no one, throw orphans to the wolves, exploit the poor. Do you think I'll stand by and do nothing about this?" God 's Decree. "Don't you think I'll take serious measures against a people like this?

"Unspeakable! Sickening! What's happened in this country? Prophets preach lies and priests hire on as their assistants. And my people love it. They eat it up! But what will you do when it's time to pick up the pieces?"

"I've got something to say. Is anybody listening? I've a warning to post. Will anyone notice? It's hopeless! Their ears are stuffed with wax— deaf as a post, blind as a bat. It's hopeless! They've tuned out God . They don't want to hear from me. But I'm bursting with the wrath of God . I can't hold it in much longer. "So dump it on the children in the streets. Let it loose on the gangs of youth. For no one's exempt: Husbands and wives will be taken, the old and those ready to die; Their homes will be given away— all they own, even their loved ones— When I give the signal against all who live in this country." God 's Decree. "Everyone's after the dishonest dollar, little people and big people alike. Prophets and priests and everyone in between twist words and doctor truth. My people are broken—shattered!— and they put on Band-Aids, Saying, ‘It's not so bad. You'll be just fine.' But things are not ‘just fine'! Do you suppose they are embarrassed over this outrage? No, they have no shame. They don't even know how to blush. There's no hope for them. They've hit bottom and there's no getting up. As far as I'm concerned, they're finished." God has spoken. God 's Message yet again: "Go stand at the crossroads and look around. Ask for directions to the old road, The tried-and-true road. Then take it. Discover the right route for your souls. But they said, ‘Nothing doing. We aren't going that way.' I even provided watchmen for them to warn them, to set off the alarm. But the people said, ‘It's a false alarm. It doesn't concern us.' And so I'm calling in the nations as witnesses: ‘Watch, witnesses, what happens to them!' And, ‘Pay attention, Earth! Don't miss these bulletins.' I'm visiting catastrophe on this people, the end result of the games they've been playing with me. They've ignored everything I've said, had nothing but contempt for my teaching. What would I want with incense brought in from Sheba, rare spices from exotic places? Your burnt sacrifices in worship give me no pleasure. Your religious rituals mean nothing to me." So listen to this. Here's God 's verdict on your way of life: "Watch out! I'm putting roadblocks and barriers on the road you're taking. They'll send you sprawling, parents and children, neighbors and friends— and that will be the end of the lot of you." And listen to this verdict from God : "Look out! An invasion from the north, a mighty power on the move from a faraway place: Armed to the teeth, vicious and pitiless, Booming like sea storm and thunder—tramp, tramp, tramp— riding hard on war horses, In battle formation against you, dear Daughter Zion!" We've heard the news, and we're as limp as wet dishrags. We're paralyzed with fear. Terror has a death grip on our throats. Don't dare go outdoors! Don't leave the house! Death is on the prowl. Danger everywhere! "Dear Daughter Zion: Dress in black. Blacken your face with ashes. Weep most bitterly, as for an only child. The countdown has begun... six, five, four, three... The Terror is on us!" God gave me this task: "I have made you the examiner of my people, to examine and weigh their lives. They're a thickheaded, hard-nosed bunch, rotten to the core, the lot of them. Refining fires are cranked up to white heat, but the ore stays a lump, unchanged. It's useless to keep trying any longer. Nothing can refine evil out of them. Men will give up and call them ‘slag,' thrown on the slag heap by me, their God ."

A City Full of Lies "Run for your lives, children of Benjamin! Get out of Jerusalem, and now! Give a blast on the ram's horn in Blastville. Send up smoke signals from Smoketown. Doom pours out of the north— massive terror! I have likened my dear daughter Zion to a lovely meadow. Well, now ‘shepherds' from the north have discovered her and brought in their flocks of soldiers. They've pitched camp all around her, and plan where they'll ‘graze.' And then, ‘Prepare to attack! The fight is on! To arms! We'll strike at noon! Oh, it's too late? Day is dying? Evening shadows are upon us? Well, up anyway! We'll attack by night and tear apart her defenses stone by stone.'" God -of-the-Angel-Armies gave the orders: "Chop down her trees. Build a siege ramp against Jerusalem, A city full of brutality, bursting with violence. Just as a well holds a good supply of water, she supplies wickedness nonstop. The streets echo the cries: ‘Violence! Rape!' Victims, bleeding and moaning, lie all over the place. You're in deep trouble, Jerusalem. You've pushed me to the limit. You're on the brink of being wiped out, being turned into a ghost town." More orders from God -of-the-Angel-Armies: "Time's up! Harvest the grapes for judgment. Salvage what's left of Israel. Go back over the vines. Pick them clean, every last grape. "I've got something to say. Is anybody listening? I've a warning to post. Will anyone notice? It's hopeless! Their ears are stuffed with wax— deaf as a post, blind as a bat. It's hopeless! They've tuned out God . They don't want to hear from me. But I'm bursting with the wrath of God . I can't hold it in much longer. "So dump it on the children in the streets. Let it loose on the gangs of youth. For no one's exempt: Husbands and wives will be taken, the old and those ready to die; Their homes will be given away— all they own, even their loved ones— When I give the signal against all who live in this country." God 's Decree.

"Everyone's after the dishonest dollar, little people and big people alike. Prophets and priests and everyone in between twist words and doctor truth. My people are broken—shattered!— and they put on Band-Aids, Saying, ‘It's not so bad. You'll be just fine.' But things are not ‘just fine'! Do you suppose they are embarrassed over this outrage? No, they have no shame. They don't even know how to blush. There's no hope for them. They've hit bottom and there's no getting up. As far as I'm concerned, they're finished." God has spoken.

God 's Message yet again: "Go stand at the crossroads and look around. Ask for directions to the old road, The tried-and-true road. Then take it. Discover the right route for your souls. But they said, ‘Nothing doing. We aren't going that way.' I even provided watchmen for them to warn them, to set off the alarm. But the people said, ‘It's a false alarm. It doesn't concern us.' And so I'm calling in the nations as witnesses: ‘Watch, witnesses, what happens to them!' And, ‘Pay attention, Earth! Don't miss these bulletins.' I'm visiting catastrophe on this people, the end result of the games they've been playing with me. They've ignored everything I've said, had nothing but contempt for my teaching. What would I want with incense brought in from Sheba, rare spices from exotic places? Your burnt sacrifices in worship give me no pleasure. Your religious rituals mean nothing to me."

"And you, Jeremiah, don't waste your time praying for this people. Don't offer to make petitions or intercessions. Don't bother me with them. I'm not listening. Can't you see what they're doing in all the villages of Judah and in the Jerusalem streets? Why, they've got the children gathering wood while the fathers build fires and the mothers make bread to be offered to ‘the Queen of Heaven'! And as if that weren't bad enough, they go around pouring out libations to any other gods they come across, just to hurt me.

"‘But do you think they listened? Not a word of it. They did just what they wanted to do, indulged any and every evil whim and got worse day by day. From the time your ancestors left the land of Egypt until now, I've supplied a steady stream of my servants the prophets, but do you think the people listened? Not once. Stubborn as mules and worse than their ancestors!'

"And when the time comes"— God 's Decree!—"I'll see to it that they dig up the bones of the kings of Judah, the bones of the princes and priests and prophets, and yes, even the bones of the common people. They'll dig them up and spread them out like a congregation at worship before sun, moon, and stars, all those sky gods they've been so infatuated with all these years, following their ‘lucky stars' in doglike devotion. The bones will be left scattered and exposed, to reenter the soil as fertilizer, like manure.

"Tell them this, God 's Message: "‘Do people fall down and not get up? Or take the wrong road and then just keep going? So why does this people go backward, and just keep on going—backward! They stubbornly hold on to their illusions, refuse to change direction. I listened carefully but heard not so much as a whisper. No one expressed one word of regret. Not a single "I'm sorry" did I hear. They just kept at it, blindly and stupidly banging their heads against a brick wall. Cranes know when it's time to move south for winter. And robins, warblers, and bluebirds know when it's time to come back again. But my people? My people know nothing, not the first thing of God and his rule.

"‘How can you say, "We know the score. We're the proud owners of God 's revelation"? Look where it's gotten you—stuck in illusion. Your religion experts have taken you for a ride! Your know-it-alls will be unmasked, caught and shown up for what they are. Look at them! They know everything but God 's Word. Do you call that "knowing"?

"‘So here's what will happen to the know-it-alls: I'll make them wifeless and homeless. Everyone's after the dishonest dollar, little people and big people alike. Prophets and priests and everyone in between twist words and doctor truth. My dear Daughter—my people—broken, shattered, and yet they put on Band-Aids, Saying, "It's not so bad. You'll be just fine." But things are not "just fine"! Do you suppose they are embarrassed over this outrage? Not really. They have no shame. They don't even know how to blush. There's no hope for them. They've hit bottom and there's no getting up. As far as I'm concerned, they're finished.'" God has spoken.

I drown in grief. I'm heartsick. Oh, listen! Please listen! It's the cry of my dear people reverberating through the country. Is God no longer in Zion? Has the King gone away? Can you tell me why they flaunt their plaything-gods, their silly, imported no-gods before me? The crops are in, the summer is over, but for us nothing's changed. We're still waiting to be rescued. For my dear broken people, I'm heartbroken. I weep, seized by grief. Are there no healing ointments in Gilead? Isn't there a doctor in the house? So why can't something be done to heal and save my dear, dear people?

"Their tongues shoot out lies like a bow shoots arrows— A mighty army of liars, the sworn enemies of truth. They advance from one evil to the next, ignorant of me." God 's Decree. "Be wary of even longtime neighbors. Don't even trust your grandmother! Brother schemes against brother, like old cheating Jacob. Friend against friend spreads malicious gossip. Neighbors gyp neighbors, never telling the truth. They've trained their tongues to tell lies, and now they can't tell the truth. They pile wrong upon wrong, stack lie upon lie, and refuse to know me." God 's Decree.

God 's answer: "Because they abandoned my plain teaching. They wouldn't listen to anything I said, refused to live the way I told them to. Instead they lived any way they wanted and took up with the Baal gods, who they thought would give them what they wanted—following the example of their parents." And this is the consequence. God -of-the-Angel-Armies says so: "I'll feed them with pig slop. "I'll give them poison to drink.

"Then I'll scatter them far and wide among godless peoples that neither they nor their parents have ever heard of, and I'll send Death in pursuit until there's nothing left of them."

Listen to the Message that God is sending your way, House of Israel. Listen most carefully: "Don't take the godless nations as your models. Don't be impressed by their glamour and glitz, no matter how much they're impressed. The religion of these peoples is nothing but smoke. An idol is nothing but a tree chopped down, then shaped by a woodsman's ax. They trim it with tinsel and balls, use hammer and nails to keep it upright. It's like a scarecrow in a cabbage patch—can't talk! Dead wood that has to be carried—can't walk! Don't be impressed by such stuff. It's useless for either good or evil."

All this is nothing compared to you, O God . You're wondrously great, famously great. Who can fail to be impressed by you, King of the nations? It's your very nature to be worshiped! Look far and wide among the elite of the nations. The best they can come up with is nothing compared to you. Stupidly, they line them up—a lineup of sticks, good for nothing but making smoke. Gilded with silver foil from Tarshish, covered with gold from Uphaz, Hung with violet and purple fabrics— no matter how fancy the sticks, they're still sticks.

It's because our leaders are stupid. They never asked God for counsel, And so nothing worked right. The people are scattered all over.