Jeremiah, a prophet of God, ministered to the people of the southern kingdom of Judah at the end of the 7th century BCE and into the 6th century. The kings that followed Saul, David, and Solomon by and large had not led the people well, and because of the nations’ idolatry, exploitation of the poor, and oppression of people on the margins, their kingdoms have crumbled under outside pressure.

The reading we will hear today is from a letter Jeremiah wrote to some of the people of Judah who have been taken into exile when the natural consequence of the nation’s sin led to their conquer by Babylon. It’s not totally clear how long they have been in exile, anywhere from 1 to 2 years to 10. It’s long enough for them to wonder how they are supposed to live in this strange time in a strange land, and long enough for false prophets to pop up, those who predict a speedy end to this momentary unpleasantness.

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-14

By the rivers of Babylon—
   there we sat down and there we wept
   when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
   we hung up our harps.
For there our captors
   asked us for songs,
and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,
   ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ 

How could we sing the Lord’s song
   in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
   let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth,
   if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
   above my highest joy. 

This is the song of those who are in exile.  These are the words of people who are grieving what is lost – the familiar, their homeland, their family, their autonomy. These are the words of people who are in utter despair that the life they knew is gone and they are sitting in a foreign land not knowing what in the world they are supposed to do here. These words, the words of Psalm 137, are the words of a people who are feeling lost and hopeless and who can’t see the end of their loss and hopelessness. They don’t know what to do in Babylon. Can they even sing their favorite songs in the very different land? Will they have meaning? Will they bring joy? Should they pick up and work as if nothing has happened or should they sit and wait for things to get better? Should the put down roots or get ready to fly? Is it worth spending time adapting or is this all going to be over soon?

We’re about 20 months into this pandemic and it’s become pretty common to hear people say things like, “It was just supposed to be for 2 or 3 weeks.” And you know what, maybe that could have been true. Or maybe people who were using the best information about what they knew made the best hypotheses they could and even still those were wrong. But now we’re 20 months into this and baking bread, binging Netflix, working out in the basement, watching movies on a small screen, wondering about paychecks, worrying about the economy, fighting about the way forward, waiting for “real life” to start up again – – it’s all getting old.  It got old some time again. And despair is not uncommon. We’re asking the same kinds of questions that the exiles were asking. “When will this be over?” “When are things going to get back to normal?”

God answers the questions of those who are exiled in a way that gives us insight into the way forward for us too. God does not say, “You’re right.  This has gotten old. Head on back to Zion.” God doesn’t say that. Through Jeremiah, God says, “This is pretty much how it’s going to be for awhile, but I’m here with you. Look for me! You’ll find me!! You’re dreaming of what used to be, but I have an even better future in store for you and for all people.” 

Despair is what they feel, and hope is what God promises, what God speaks into their confusion and grief and longing for what used to be. Hope that the future will be different – that yes, fortunes will be restored, but that this time, because of what they have learned, God’s people will know how to use those fortunes for divine purposes, care for others with what they have, so that concern for all people, justice, and peace are how God’s people order their lives. God wants something so much better for the exiles than what they had before; And the exiles are invited to be a part of building it.

The antidote to their paralyzing despair and longing for the past is engagement in the present that builds the future God desires. The first part is fairly basic stuff – do what you need to do to live. Make shelter.  Live in it. Grow food. Eat it. Build families. Settle down. Settle in for a little while.

But it doesn’t stop there.  The exiles aren’t just to take care of themselves! God’s future isn’t that inward-looking, in fact, it’s that kind of inward-looking that got the people of God into trouble in the first place.  No, the foundation of this new future, the way to get back to the land, but to live in it even better is to take care of the people around you – not just in your home, not just in your ethnic community, but in the city, in the country around you.  Work for the welfare of all people, and then we’ll be living into God’s future with hope.

The antidote to the paralysis of despair over the lost past is present engagement that builds a the future God desires.  A future with hope.

The pledges we will dedicate this morning are one such antidote.  Giving our time, our talent, and our treasure – that in and of itself is a statement of faith and a sign that we believe that a different future is possible and that we people of faith have some calling, some responsibility, some empowerment from God to be a part of that new future – that hope filled future.  Because, let’s be honest, there are all sorts of place we could spend or share our money and our lives. There is no shortage of organizations and people who are looking for what we are dedicating here today – many of them good and worthy of our attention and generosity.

But the pledges we dedicate today – the pledges of our time and energy and talents and interests and the pledges of our money that support what God is going in and through this congregation – these are statements of our faith. Faith that God is in charge.  God has not abandoned us. God is aware of our discomfort, our grief, and our despair. God is with us in this time of pandemic, this time of division, this time of caus-ti-city, and God has a desire for things to be different. More than a desire really – God has a vision for a future where these things are no more.

And our pledges are a commitment that, like the exiles God encourages through Jeremiah, we won’t just sit by and wait for it to happen. We won’t put our heads in the sand and ignore that we are living in a different reality. We will keep moving forward. It doesn’t work to look backwards and attempt to recreate the good old days (because let’s be honest the good old days weren’t good for everyone in the first place). 

We have to build relationships that will sustain us and give us companionship for what is to come. We have to plant gardens that will feed us and our neighbors. We have to seek what is right and good for the people all around us, all the people all around us, not just the ones who look like us and talk like us and believe like us, but even what is good for the people who are quite different from us. And that’s how we will make our way toward what God intends – by investing all that we are and all that we have in actions and relationships and efforts that make a difference now, that bring life now. That’s how we move from our current despair to the promised future with hope.

As a church we have done this before. You have done this. It’s not new. The times may have felt different, and in some ways less overwhelmingly urgent, but you have seen and felt despair, you have evaluated what gifts God has given you to meet needs, and you have taken steps towards different future – a future with hope.  This is not new!

About 12 years ago now people in this church saw neighbors in despair.  Some hungry for nourishing food, some hungry for company and relationships. Some starving for both! You didn’t just sit here and try to wait it out.  You didn’t ignore the crisis.  You put together teams, you gathered recipes, you called for volunteers, and every month for 10 years you met despair with hope.

Similarly with the partnership with the South Shore Drill Team. When a member of the church shared their involvement with an organization that meets despair with hope, you got on board to help build God’s future of life abundant.

What will our next steps be? What will this look like in real life – during a pandemic, during a time of great division, during a time of great education and rising awareness of the pain and despair of others?

What things that bring us despair now, can we address with steps in the present, to build God’s future with hope?

Yesterday was the 22nd observance of the Transgender Day of Remembrance, a day that memorializes transgender people who have been murdered because of transphobia. In addition to despairing these acts of violence, I despair over the reality that trans youth end their own lives at devastatingly high rates. I despair that according to the National LGBTQ Youth Mental Health Survey released last year more than half of transgender and nonbinary youth in the U.S. have “seriously considered” taking their own lives in the past 12 months. Of 40,000 LGBTQ youth in the U.S. 40% have considered suicide in the past 12 months.  

I despair that young people we know are considering ending their lives while adults scratch their heads about grammar or say it’s too hard to change what we’re used to. Because you want to know one of the simplest steps that can be taken to reduce those rates? Respecting the pronouns a transperson tells us are true. The study I mentioned tells us that when more or all people in a transperson’s life use the pronouns they tell us are true, their risk of suicide is cut in half.  In half! Using he and him or she and her or they and them when we are asked to, whether we are used to it or understand it, will save lives. Period.  It will save lives.

Why wouldn’t we meet that despair with a simple action that can bring about a better future? Why wouldn’t we live into that hope filled future? Why wouldn’t the church be a place to learn this and practice it for the sake of life? That’s a hope filled future I want to be a part of – one where lives are saved.

Where do you see despair? Where is there longing in your own heart for a future with hope and what steps can you take to help move with the Spirit in that direction? In just a few moments, as we share our offerings and pledges we will have a chance to share our hopes as an antidote to despair. My all that we offer – in pledges, in gifts, in the hopes of our hearts – be blessed by God to holy purposes that bring about a future with hope.