But if I say, “I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name,” his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.
— Jeremiah 20:9
Each time Jehudi finished reading three or four columns, the king took a knife and cut off that section of the scroll. He then threw it into the fire, section by section until the whole scroll was burned up.
— Jeremiah 36:23
Years ago, I went with a church member to his house. It was an odd mixture of sadness, regret, gratefulness and hope.
He had put the ash from a fire they had more than 24 hours earlier into a metal can and put in the garage.
Sadly, the coals were still hot enough to flame up and catch nearby combustibles on fire.
Amazingly, the cars didn’t explode, the family escaped without harm and the talented firefighters were able to keep the house from becoming a complete loss.
As we looked at the charred sections of the house, we both stood there lost in our own thoughts.
Jeremiah, the prophet of God, spent years warning the people to stop with the idols, turn and obey God.
Or else.
It wasn’t a fun job. He never won any popularity contests. He even tried in vain to stop speaking the words God had given him.
They were like fire in his bones. It couldn’t be contained.
The sinful king tried to silence the word, too.
He burned the scroll of Jeremiah’s warnings.
His fire was no match for God’s.
Jeremiah simply had the words rewritten. Their preservation continues to this very day as we read all that God gave him to say.
Paul talks about accurately handling the “word of truth.”
Why? It’s a fire. It’s “alive” and “sharper than any two-edged sword,” Paul would say.
Fire and two-edged swords are not to be trifled with.
Playing with God’s word — by picking and choosing what we like and don’t like, heralding it with our lips but not our lives, or dismissing it all as made-up silliness — is not a wise idea.
King Jehoiakim found out the hard way.
We don’t have to.
To the end
As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have kept the faith.
— 2 Timothy 4
I love reading stories to my grandkids.
They keep bringing me books, and I’ll keep reading them.
At their young ages, it’s very common to go through the books in snippets.
They’ll sit still for only so long. You may get a few pages, or right to the last page, and “boom” — the book gets closed, and off they run.
“Wait,” I say. “I want to see how it ends.”
Occasionally, my daughter will walk by giggling as she sees me sitting there by myself finishing the little children’s book.
Endings matter. It’s what the whole book was leading toward.
We all like a good ending.
In this letter to Timothy, Paul was thinking about endings, too. Specifically, his own.
Imprisoned in Rome, his circumstances were leading him to conclude that his time was up.
It’s very natural to take inventory at such times.
Does my life weigh well in the scales of God’s will?
When push came to shove, did I or did I not stand for Jesus?
He told Timothy what he needed to do.
He told him the cost of doing so.
And finally, he told him the reason why it was all worth it — the ending.
Paul didn’t measure his life by bank accounts and years.
He didn’t keep track of how many standing ovations he received.
He didn’t point to his children’s accomplishments to establish significance.
It was so simple and so profound all at the same time.
His accurate and amazing assessment?
I did what Jesus told me to do.
Period.
End of story.
Wiles is senior minister of Fall Creek Christian Church in Pendleton. He can be reached at 765-778-3166.