A Future & A Hope
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”—Jeremiah 29:11
Israel was guilty of idolatry and God decreed judgment through the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar. He laid siege to the city of Jerusalem overthrowing it and sending thousands of Jews into captivity in the land of Babylon in 597 B.C. As they were languishing in Babylon, Jeremiah sent a letter from Jerusalem to the exiles with instructions how they were to conduct themselves during the time of their exile.
God wanted them to understand that their captivity was going to last 70 years and they wouldn’t be getting out of Babylon before then. They were to build houses, plant gardens, give their children in marriage (v. 5) and seek the welfare of the city, because tied up in the city’s welfare was their own (v. 7). However, at the end of 70 years, God would fulfill His promise by bringing them out of captivity returning them to their homeland of Israel. It was after promising to return them to their homeland that God declared, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
God’s desire was to bless His people Israel—even in the midst of His judgment He was giving them hope. He wanted them to understand that He was with them even as they were experiencing the consequences of their sin. He wanted their restoration, not their condemnation.
The same can be said for us as well. Whenever we sin, God is grieved. He doesn’t delight in destroying us, or inflicting judgment on us. His desire isn’t for our condemnation, but our restoration. Consider the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. The prodigal demands his father for his inheritance while he is still alive (which is basically like saying he wished his father were dead), gets it and then goes off to a foreign land and wastes it all. Broke and desperate, a famine breaks out across the land, necessitating him getting a job feeding pigs slop (a despicable job to a Jew). Still hungry, he finds himself longing for the food the pigs were eating. He finally came to his senses and realized that his father had treated him far better than he ever realized. Knowing that he had shamed his father publicly and squandered his wealth, he comes up with a plan to return home and ask his father for a job as one of his servants, knowing he was unworthy to be called his son.
When he nears home, his father notices him along way off. One can almost feel the tension in the air as the old man runs to him. It’s interesting to note that when this parable was translated in the Arab world, Middle East translators did everything in their power to translate the word, “run” differently. For them it was an absolutely shameful act for a man of the father’s stature to take up his garments and run to the disobedient, reckless son. Nevertheless, he did so because of his great love. The father had the full right to condemn him, to prolong his son’s humiliation after all the son had done to him. The son had shamed his father publicly, brought ridicule to his house, squandered his wealth, and wished him good as dead. But he didn’t. Instead he clothed him with his best robe, put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet. Each item an indication that the son had not only been reconciled to the family, but restored to full sonship in the father’s house.
Like the prodigal, we deserve condemnation, but like the father in the story, God desires our reconciliation and restoration. He wants to give us a future and a hope, just like He did ancient Israel, but He will only do so when we come to Him as repentant sinners in need of a Savior. I pray that we may come as the prodigal son did—repentant and ready to do whatever the father tells us to do. Because it is only as coming as repentant sinners in need of a Savior that God will save us, establish us and give us a future and a hope through the honor and glory of His great and glorious name, Amen.
Israel was guilty of idolatry and God decreed judgment through the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar. He laid siege to the city of Jerusalem overthrowing it and sending thousands of Jews into captivity in the land of Babylon in 597 B.C. As they were languishing in Babylon, Jeremiah sent a letter from Jerusalem to the exiles with instructions how they were to conduct themselves during the time of their exile.
God wanted them to understand that their captivity was going to last 70 years and they wouldn’t be getting out of Babylon before then. They were to build houses, plant gardens, give their children in marriage (v. 5) and seek the welfare of the city, because tied up in the city’s welfare was their own (v. 7). However, at the end of 70 years, God would fulfill His promise by bringing them out of captivity returning them to their homeland of Israel. It was after promising to return them to their homeland that God declared, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
God’s desire was to bless His people Israel—even in the midst of His judgment He was giving them hope. He wanted them to understand that He was with them even as they were experiencing the consequences of their sin. He wanted their restoration, not their condemnation.
The same can be said for us as well. Whenever we sin, God is grieved. He doesn’t delight in destroying us, or inflicting judgment on us. His desire isn’t for our condemnation, but our restoration. Consider the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. The prodigal demands his father for his inheritance while he is still alive (which is basically like saying he wished his father were dead), gets it and then goes off to a foreign land and wastes it all. Broke and desperate, a famine breaks out across the land, necessitating him getting a job feeding pigs slop (a despicable job to a Jew). Still hungry, he finds himself longing for the food the pigs were eating. He finally came to his senses and realized that his father had treated him far better than he ever realized. Knowing that he had shamed his father publicly and squandered his wealth, he comes up with a plan to return home and ask his father for a job as one of his servants, knowing he was unworthy to be called his son.
When he nears home, his father notices him along way off. One can almost feel the tension in the air as the old man runs to him. It’s interesting to note that when this parable was translated in the Arab world, Middle East translators did everything in their power to translate the word, “run” differently. For them it was an absolutely shameful act for a man of the father’s stature to take up his garments and run to the disobedient, reckless son. Nevertheless, he did so because of his great love. The father had the full right to condemn him, to prolong his son’s humiliation after all the son had done to him. The son had shamed his father publicly, brought ridicule to his house, squandered his wealth, and wished him good as dead. But he didn’t. Instead he clothed him with his best robe, put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet. Each item an indication that the son had not only been reconciled to the family, but restored to full sonship in the father’s house.
Like the prodigal, we deserve condemnation, but like the father in the story, God desires our reconciliation and restoration. He wants to give us a future and a hope, just like He did ancient Israel, but He will only do so when we come to Him as repentant sinners in need of a Savior. I pray that we may come as the prodigal son did—repentant and ready to do whatever the father tells us to do. Because it is only as coming as repentant sinners in need of a Savior that God will save us, establish us and give us a future and a hope through the honor and glory of His great and glorious name, Amen.
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