Preke - Sermons - 2025

Jeremiah 20,7-11a

Following requires a radical decision. Followers must know that they are choosing a completely insecure existence. "Following" can be so serious that, if necessary, "leaving father and mother" may be necessary, or that there isn't even time to bury one's deceased father. "Follow me and let the dead bury their dead!" Following requires a radical decision for God. Ultimately, "following" means "taking up one's cross," suffering with Jesus. We heard that earlier in the Gospel reading.

Why do we repeatedly find ourselves in situations in life that we have half-actively chosen and half-passively surrendered to? Why is life sometimes so difficult and ambiguous?

Today's Old Testament sermon text speaks to everyone who has ever taken on a great task entrusted to them, and to everyone who has tried unsuccessfully to free themselves from a special obligation.

7 You deceived me, Lord, and I was deceived[2]; you overpowered me and prevailed. I am ridiculed all day long; everyone mocks me.

8 Whenever I speak, I cry out proclaiming violence and destruction. So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long.

9 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.

10 I hear many whispering, ‘Terror on every side! Denounce him! Let’s denounce him!’ All my friends are waiting for me to slip, saying, ‘Perhaps he will be deceived; then we will prevail over him and take our revenge on him.’

11 But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail. They will fail and be thoroughly disgraced; their dishonour will never be forgotten.

Jeremiah speaks of his own experiences with God. With the message he received from God. Here, he doesn't talk about how wonderful it is to belong to God, but rather how terrible it can be when God seizes a person and calls them into His service, into His discipleship.

Especially those who know they are called by God can become confused by Him when they are led into suffering for God's sake. And yet they cannot escape Him.

This passage from the book of Jeremiah is not just for prophets and pastors. Its message applies to all Christians—to all who follow the Lord as disciples. Ultimately, I myself am nothing other than a disciple of the Lord—that is, someone who seeks to obediently accept his life's task from God. This should be the case for every Christian. You, too, will realize that you are called, burdened, and protected. You are called through holy baptism. God has taken possession of you, whether you wanted it or not. Perhaps you sometimes feel this calling as a burden. Perhaps you would much rather sleep in on Sunday mornings than go to church. Perhaps you secretly envy those who don't have such a narrow conscience, but who cheerfully and confidently disregard many divine commandments. They often even seem to fare better for it. Perhaps you have already encountered incomprehension with your testimony of faith. Perhaps you suffer because people consider you unworldly or pious. Perhaps you regret that, for reasons of conscience, you cannot participate in some of the things you are invited to. Perhaps it torments you that, as Christians, you cannot live a more joyful and carefree life than other people, which should actually be possible through the gospel. Perhaps you have the impression that you are burdened more and worry more than others. Just think of the worry about the salvation of other people's souls—how tormenting that can be! Those who do not believe do not have this worry and do not need to worry about the errors of others.

I'm reading some parts of a sermon suggestion, written for today by Pastor Elisabeth Wedding.

You persuaded me, God, and I let myself be persuaded. And now we sit here, neither happy nor satisfied. The world curses and rants. They're targeting me. I've become a laughing stock because I say what's on my mind, what needs to be said. That doesn't suit them. They prefer to hear beautiful stories. But life isn't always beautiful. Not right now, anyway.

Creation is feverish and groaning. Children have trouble concentrating because life is too busy. People seem to be forgetting you. They don't need church, and they don't really miss you either.

Do you notice that they're not just mocking and ridiculing me, but you too? Yes, they laugh at you, find you weak. They see and feel nothing of you.

They're targeting both of us, because we belong together. You persuaded me, and I let myself be persuaded. And now I'm talking about you, about life, about salvation and disaster, about our world and the conditions it's in. I can't help it! And now we're both sitting here, getting a lot of headwind.

You wanted it this way, God. – Didn't you? You saw it coming, right? You knew what would happen when the truth was spoken and exposed. Later, your Son went to the cross for it. And so did many thousands of other people, in their own way, to this day.

Is this your plan for us if we are faithful to you? Is this your plan for your children?? I would like to hold you responsible, God. After all, you wanted it this way. You knew how things were for your people. You knew that times weren't easy or peaceful. And you sensed the situation you were putting me in.

I would like to have a scapegoat for why life is messing me up. I would like to be able to say and think: It's not my fault! It wasn't me! I want to give you some of the crap that's being thrown at me, that I'm torturing myself with here. I would like to hand over the responsibility, give it back to you, God. I'd love to just forget you, ignore you. I'd love to just keep my mouth shut, have some peace and quiet, live in peace. I'd love to go back to my old life. Back then, the world was still in order.

Why, God, why don't you let me go? And why can't I let you go? After all, you persuaded me! You put me in this situation. I didn't choose it, I didn't think it through. Yes, it's true: I said yes when you chose me.

You persuaded me, God. And I let myself be persuaded. I had no idea how quickly it would overwhelm me. I thought I was stronger than I was. I thought I could do it if you wanted me to. I thought I would grow with the tasks you gave me.

But I see: I'm not that strong. It's getting out of hand, beyond my strength. It's more likely I'll break because of it. Everything hurts, God. Can't you let me go, release me from your mission and your expectations?

And I'm not just talking about myself, God. I'm talking about the many others who can't open their mouths because they're even deeper in the dirt than I am. They've become mute. Everything hurts them.

There she sits on her farm, with her family, in her marriage. And it's all too much for her: her three children, her stubborn father-in-law next door, the large garden, and her work on the ward. With the staff shortages today, her husband is rarely there.

And now they're laughing at her because she says, 'It won't work like this. I need help, I can't do it.'

'You wanted it this way!' they say. 'You said yes to your husband and his farm. You chose it this way, your work, the children...'

Yes, she says, you persuaded me, and I let myself be persuaded. You wanted it, and I said yes, and then I wanted it too.

There he sits in the Garden of Gethsemane. His friends, whom he so desperately needed now, have fallen asleep. He knows that crucifixion awaits him.

Did he have to take on the rulers in Jerusalem? Wasn't it foreseeable how this would end?

Couldn't he have just continued on the Sea of Galilee as before? Caring for the sick and those seeking help, being there for people, living God's love?

But he couldn't help it; he had to open his mouth for the mute. He had to take on the priests and scholars. When your heart is full, your mouth overflows. When life has gripped you, you don't stop halfway.

So much suffering on this earth, in so many life stories. So much suffering, and so much passion among your people. They are all your beloved children, God. All of us. – Why so much suffering?

Because life can't be lived from just one side. Because pain is part of it when something is precious. Because what is important also carries weight, is heavy. It can also become too heavy.

There is no one to blame. There are no perpetrators who are responsible. There is a trigger, a stimulus. But just as importantly, the other side is needed, the one who gets involved, the one who says yes.

Because life always has different sides and is always more than a single voice.

Sometimes life demands more from us than what we have chosen. Sometimes God needs us in different places and with different tasks than we would like. Sometimes that rubs us the wrong way and hurts. Then big questions arise: Was it all perhaps a mistake? Was I mistaken about God? Was God mistaken about me?

Yes, God, you persuaded me. You called me, took me into your service. And I let myself be persuaded.

And now—now I can't get away from You. I can't do anything else. Your word has become mine, your passion mine. Your power takes me with you. I am driven, persuaded. Even when it hurts. I can't let You go. Because You won't let me go either.

No, You won't let me go, God. You won't let me go. You won't leave me alone. You won't let me fall. You won't abandon me.

You have persuaded me, you have seduced me. And now I let You lead me. What else could I do?

The term "following" is a central concept of the Christian faith.

Since the resurrection of Christ, "following" has meant "following" the one who can no longer be seen, "only" believed in. In a figurative sense, "following in His footsteps." So, allowing yourself to be led "where you don't want to go."

"Following" then also means "participating in His resurrection," "rising with Him." This certainly doesn't mean that Christians should copy Jesus. Christians should "only" think in his spirit, "only" act in his spirit, and know that consistency in matters of faith can be dangerous, but also—without being able to make any claims—promises resurrection.

There sits Jesus in the garden, not living to see the next evening. And he knows: This is his life, his path with God, and God's path with him. There is no other way, no easier, no harder.

There she sits, the woman on her farm, between children and work and father-in-law, with her exhaustion, with her longing for her husband. And after a quiet moment, she feels: This is life, in all its fullness. This is my life.

For you, God, have persuaded me. And I let myself be persuaded. Amen.