Chuck Larsen

Jeremiah 1:9 tells us something astounding: Jeremiah did not simply speak for God—he spoke as God’s messenger, carrying His very words. When Jeremiah spoke, heaven echoed. That means when we read Jeremiah today, we are not studying ancient philosophy or national history; we are hearing God’s Word to us. In verse 10, God gives Jeremiah his unique “job description”: “See, I have set you this day over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” Six verbs describe Jeremiah’s work—four that demolish and two that rebuild. He was to uproot the nations, tear down corrupt systems, destroy idols, and overthrow rebellion. Then, only after the rubble was cleared, he was to build and plant anew. As Mrs. T. M. Constance wrote, Jeremiah’s task was “to declare God’s purposes concerning the overthrow or restoration of kingdoms and nations based on their persistence in or their repentance of sins.” Jeremiah’s words shook the earth before they healed it.

It is hard not to notice that Jeremiah’s message sounds a lot like God’s work in our own lives. Sometimes He has to uproot before He can plant. He tears down what we have built on shaky foundations so that He can rebuild on solid ground. Ryken notes that although Jeremiah’s calling sounds grim, “grace will have the last word.” That is good news for all of us who have ever been through a season of demolition. God does not destroy for destruction’s sake; He removes what hinders His renewal. When He plows up our pride, it is only so He can plant humility. When He breaks down our idols, it is only so He can rebuild our hearts. We all deserve judgment, but God’s purpose is always restoration. The painful process of spiritual “uprooting” is often how He prepares the soil for grace. And just like a home renovation, it usually takes longer and costs more than we thought—but the end result is far better than before.

Jeremiah’s prophetic mission finds its perfect fulfillment in Jesus Christ. Jesus came into a world that had built itself on self-righteousness and corruption, and He tore it all down—not with fire and sword, but with truth and love. Then He began to build something eternal. Paul wrote, “For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). Like Jeremiah, Jesus came to uproot sin and to plant righteousness. His cross was demolition day for our guilt, and His resurrection was groundbreaking for new life. Grace always has the last word—and His name is Jesus.

Jeremiah had a whole list of reasons why he was the wrong man for God’s mission. Too young. Too inexperienced. Too afraid. God was not having it. He told Jeremiah to stop making excuses, not to fear, and to trust that He would be with him. Then came the remarkable moment: “Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth. And the LORD said to me, ‘Behold, I have put my words in your mouth’” (Jeremiah 1:9). Now, that was a real encounter—divine, direct, and authoritative. Jeremiah’s words became God’s words, written for all time. It is on this basis that we believe the Scriptures to be inspired and inerrant. But it raises a modern question: does God still speak to people today in that same way? And if He does, why do so many who claim to speak for Him seem to get it wrong?

I once had a local pastor burst into my office uninvited to deliver a “message from God.” He declared that unless I repented, God would close my church. I did not realize I was living in the Old Testament! Ironically, a few months later, it was his church that closed—after he was caught in an affair with a parishioner’s wife. The issue is not whether God can speak—He can do anything—but whether He does speak to us today with the same kind of authority. I believe He has already said everything He intends to say in His Word. As Paul wrote, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16). The Bible is complete, sufficient, and reliable. When people start claiming new divine revelations, we should reach for our Bibles, not our wallets. As Philip Ryken put it, “Be careful how you talk about getting messages from the Lord.” Saying “God told me” can be a form of spiritual blackmail. It shuts down dialogue and elevates opinion to revelation.

In the New Testament, Jesus is called “the Word made flesh” (John 1:14). God speaks to us now through Him—clearly, completely, and compassionately. The writer of Hebrews said it best: “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets… but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son” (Hebrews 1:1–2). We do not need new prophets; we need to listen to the One already sent. When Jesus speaks through Scripture, He does not need to say, “God told me.” He simply says, “Truly, truly, I say to you.” That is enough.

Jeremiah was given a mission that seemed doomed from the start. God sent him to preach repentance to a nation that had no interest in repenting. He served under five kings of Judah, watching the nation’s moral fabric unravel like an old sweater. As one commentary puts it, “Judah was spiritually too far gone, and Jeremiah would not succeed in leading the nation to revival.” Over forty long years, he watched the slow collapse of everything he loved. The temple burned, Jerusalem crumbled, and the people were carried away in chains. It was like watching a fire die out, one glowing ember at a time, until all that remained was ash and smoke. If ever there was a prophet who could have said, “I told you so,” it was Jeremiah. But instead of bitterness, he spoke about hope. Instead of despair, he pointed to God’s promise of restoration. His world fell apart, yet his faith held firm.

That is what makes Jeremiah’s message so remarkable—and so relevant. He did not just predict doom; he preached a future. In Jeremiah 29:11, God declared, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Imagine believing that while standing amid ruins. Jeremiah dared to see beyond the smoke of destruction to the sunrise of renewal. He spoke of a “new covenant” that would not be written on stone but on human hearts. In our world of disappointments, broken systems, and endless news cycles of disaster, Jeremiah’s hope still rings true. God’s plans outlast our failures. His promises outshine our present pain. Like Jeremiah, we can learn to hold on to hope when everything around us is falling apart. As one wit observed, “Optimists invented airplanes; pessimists invented parachutes.” Jeremiah might have added, “God made sure both would land safely.”

The hope Jeremiah preached found its fulfillment in Jesus Christ. The “new covenant” Jeremiah envisioned became reality through the blood of the Savior, who said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:20). Jesus brought light into the ruins of human sin and offered eternal life beyond the captivity of death. The world still burns, but the gospel promises rebuilding. Like Jeremiah, we are called to speak hope into the ashes. Paul wrote, “Christ Jesus is our hope” (1 Timothy 1:1). We cannot save the world, but we can point to the One who already has. And in doing so, we carry Jeremiah’s torch forward—illuminating a hope that even exile cannot extinguish.

Jeremiah was still a teenager when God called him to be a prophet, and his reaction was entirely human. “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth” (Jeremiah 1:6). It was the ancient equivalent of “You’ve got the wrong guy.” Like Moses before him, Jeremiah looked at his own weaknesses instead of God’s power. Isaiah did the same when he said, “Woe is me, for I am undone.” Apparently, God has a habit of choosing reluctant recruits. It reminds me of Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings. When Gandalf told him he must carry the ring of power to Mount Doom, Frodo protested, “I am not made for perilous quests.” Gandalf’s reply sounds like something Jeremiah could have heard from God Himself: “You have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have.” None of us feel ready for the tasks God gives us—but readiness has never been a prerequisite for usefulness.

God’s response to Jeremiah’s hesitation was both a rebuke and a reassurance. He reminded Jeremiah that his qualifications had been settled before his birth: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (Jeremiah 1:5). God then gave him two commands—stop making excuses and stop being afraid. The Lord’s presence, not Jeremiah’s performance, would determine the outcome. A commentator summarized it perfectly: “Where God guides, He provides.” That truth is easy to preach but hard to practice. Most of us feel unqualified for our callings—whether parenting, teaching, serving, or just trying to live faithfully in a noisy world. We live in an instant society that wants quick results, not slow obedience. Jeremiah preached for forty years with almost no visible success, yet he never quit. That kind of faithfulness is rare today, but it is what God values most.

Jeremiah’s courage ultimately foreshadows Jesus, who also faced rejection but fulfilled His calling perfectly. Like Jeremiah, He was set apart before birth, and His ministry was marked by suffering rather than applause. Jesus told His disciples, “Apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). That was Jeremiah’s secret, and it is ours too. When we depend on God’s strength instead of our own, inadequacy becomes opportunity. Paul wrote, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Jeremiah may have felt too young for the job, but God knew exactly what He was doing. He still does.

Jerusalem, God’s chosen city, was meant to be a beacon of righteousness to the nations—a living example of how people blessed by God should live. Instead, it became a mirror image of the nations around it, consumed by greed, selfishness, and deceit. The people of God stopped acting like the people of God. They were supposed to love Him and love one another, but instead they oppressed, cheated, and trampled one another in their race for wealth and power. In Jeremiah 6:6, God issues a chilling command to the Babylonians: “Cut down her trees; cast up a siege mound against Jerusalem. This is the city that must be punished; there is nothing but oppression within her.” God’s people had forgotten their calling, so He sent an army to remind them. It sounds harsh, but a parent who loves his children sometimes has to resort to discipline. In this case, God’s “spanking” came with siege engines.

Human nature has not changed much since the days of Jeremiah. When we stop loving God and start loving things, relationships crumble and communities unravel. History shows that oppression and selfishness always follow the same path. God disciplines His people not because He enjoys punishment, but because He loves them enough to correct them. As the author of Hebrews writes, “For the Lord disciplines the one He loves, and chastises every son whom He receives” (Hebrews 12:6). Of course, our culture has a hard time accepting that truth. In 1977, psychologist John Valusek claimed that spanking children promotes violence, calling it “the first half inch on the yardstick of violence.” By that logic, feeding a child would be the first half inch on the yardstick of gluttony! There is a world of difference between loving discipline and destructive violence. To confuse them is to misunderstand love itself. A God who never disciplines would not be loving—He would be negligent.

The same love that moved God to discipline Israel is the love that moved Him to send Jesus. On the cross, divine justice and mercy met perfectly. “The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6). God’s punishment fell not on His rebellious children but on His obedient Son. Through Jesus, we receive correction without condemnation. Paul wrote, “God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The city that needed a spanking reminds us that sin has consequences, but the Savior who took our punishment proves that grace always has the final word.