"Disciples Make the Most of Babylon" (October 12, 2025 Sermon)

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Text: Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7

So, friends, it's really impossible to fully understand this passage without first understanding the context in which this letter was written. It was written during a time of great trauma in the life of the Israelites, what we know as the Babylonian captivity or exile. Around 587 BC, the Babylonians, under the leadership of their king Nebuchadnezzar, conquered the Israelites. They entered Jerusalem, ransacked the city, destroyed the temple, and most of the Israelites—though not all—were taken into captivity as slaves and dispersed throughout the Babylonian territory. I say most of the Israelites, because Jeremiah, a prophet, stayed behind in Jerusalem. When the Babylonians conquered Jerusalem, they deported those Israelites who possessed skills that could help fund the Babylonian Empire—such as farmers or merchants—and sent them away, but prophets were not considered to be valuable in economic terms. Therefore, Jeremiah remained in Jerusalem with the remaining people. He then sent this letter to his fellow Israelites who had been taken from their homes and were living in a foreign land. You may recall the words of Psalm 137, "By the waters of Babylon we wept." This story captures the lament of those who had been forcibly removed from their homeland. Back in Jerusalem, Jeremiah sent this letter to the Israelites.

And what the Israelites wanted to hear and what they actually heard were two very different things. This week, I was thinking about the great movie, Miss Doubtfire. Have y'all ever seen it? Toward the end of the movie, there's a really funny scene where Miss Doubtfire is in a restaurant. Her family, or Miss Doubtfire's family, doesn't know it, but they're sitting on the other end of the restaurant. Pierce Brosnan's character begins choking on something, and Miss Doubtfire, at the other end, sees that he is choking. Miss Doubtfire then runs across the restaurant in her British accent and says, "Don't worry, dear, help is on the way." I guess that's probably the message the Israelites wanted to hear from Jeremiah—"Help is on the way. Don't worry, help is coming." But that's not the message Jeremiah delivers. Instead, in our southern vernacular, it might very well have been, "Hunker down. It's going to be a while." None of us in that situation ever wants to hear that kind of message.

But Jeremiah offers them some very practical advice while in captivity. Build houses, live in them, plant gardens, and enjoy what they produce. Build families, seek the well-being of your city, and through that, in this foreign land, in the city's welfare, you will also find your own well-being. So today, my curiosity is about what this message says to us. I believe that most of us in this room haven’t experienced the trauma of being physically displaced from our homes and forced elsewhere. There are others among us who know what that feels like. Tomorrow is Columbus Day, or as many now celebrate, Indigenous People's Day. So some of us, including our Native American friends, know all too well what it feels like to be displaced from your home. I think that, thankfully, most of us don't know that pain firsthand. But we can view Babylon as a metaphor for any place where we feel lost, abandoned, or far from what we consider home. I believe that this metaphor can apply to many different circumstances.

So I want us to be very clear about what this passage says and what it doesn't say. I don't think this passage is telling us to “give up.” I don't believe it’s saying “if you can't beat them, join them.” What I do think this passage is communicating is that the moral arc of the universe is very long, but it bends toward justice. My hope is that what you take from this passage today is that, no matter what kind of chaos or Babylon you feel you're in right now, you should know that we do have some control over certain things. I believe what Jeremiah was telling God's people, or what God was saying through Jeremiah, is that during times of disorientation, anxiety, fear, and violence, we are called as disciples to have a conversation within ourselves to ask, “okay, what is it that I don't have control over? And what is it that I do have control over?” Jeremiah was telling God's people, “look, you can't make this terrible, traumatic experience end immediately. But you can choose to seek the welfare of yourselves and your enemies.” It's a tricky but important message—build gardens, plant gardens, eat what they produce, build families, and pursue the well-being of both yourselves and your enemies.

Y’all, I struggle with that. And I guess you all do too. In this polarized world we live in, acknowledging that we're all in this together and that oppression affects everyone is really important. Last week, I was reading a book called “The Sum of Us,” which talks about systemic racism and how it harms all of us. Sure, it disproportionately impacts our neighbors of color, but it affects everyone. The metaphor used in the book involves public swimming pools. Back in the 50s and 60s, these pools were the pride of many southern cities like Greensboro, Atlanta, and Birmingham. When the federal government mandated integration, telling these cities they had to open these pools to everyone, many southern cities refused. What do you think they did? They closed them. Some even cemented them over, deciding that rather than integrating, they’d just eliminate the pools altogether. This really highlights how systems of oppression end up hurting all of us.

And I believe that's what Jeremiah was saying to the people: “Acknowledge what you don't have control over and recognize what you do have control over.” Because disciples make the best of Babylon. I hope that all of us together can be curious this week about what you don't control in this messed-up, broken world we live in, and think about what you do control: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly in small ways. I want to close today with this story from “The Lord of the Rings.” When all else fails and I don't know what to say from the pulpit, I ask myself, what would Jesus do and what would Gandalf do? There’s a moment in The Lord of the Rings when Frodo Baggins, that hobbit, feels completely overwhelmed by the brokenness of the world around him. And he says something like, Gandalf, I don't want to be here. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't sign up for the Babylonian captivity. That part isn't in there, but I added it. Gandalf then says something very profound. He says something like, and so do all who find themselves in that position. None of us wish to be in broken systems and broken places, but he does say, what we can decide is what to do with the time given to us. I believe that's the core of Jeremiah's message. Because disciples make the best of Babylon. So, friends, you might feel overwhelmed this week. If you do, guess what? You're in good company—your pastor feels that way too. But remember that we are called to make the best of Babylon, in big and small ways, to follow Christ in word and deed, and to make the best of Babylon. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for that sermon and for that redeeming word for all of us, God's people.

In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say: Amen.

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Stephen Fearing

Stephen was born in 1988 in Cookeville, TN, where his parents met whilst attending Tennessee Tech. Shortly after, they moved to Dalton, Georgia where they put down roots and joined First Presbyterian Church, the faith family that taught Stephen that he was first and foremost a beloved child of God. It was this community that taught Stephen that it was OK to have questions and doubts and that nothing he could do could every possibly separate him from the love of God. In 1995, his sister, Sarah Kate, joined the family and Stephen began his journey as a life-long musician. Since then, he has found a love of music and has found this gift particularly fitting for his call to ministry. Among the instruments that he enjoys are piano, trumpet, guitar, and handbells. Stephen has always had a love of singing and congregation song. An avid member of the marching band, Stephen was the drum major of his high school's marching band. In 2006, Stephen began his tenure at Presbyterian College in Clinton, SC where he majored in Religion and minored in History. While attending PC, Stephen continued to explore his love of music by participating in the Wind Ensemble, Jazz Band, Jazz Combo, Jazz Trio, as well as playing in the PC Handbell ensemble and playing mandolin and banjo PC's very own bluegrass/rock group, Hosegrass, of which Stephen was a founding member (Hosegrass even released their own CD!). In 2010, Stephen moved from Clinton to Atlanta to attend Columbia Theological Seminary to pursue God's call on his life to be a pastor in the PC(USA). During this time, Stephen worked at Trinity Presbyterian Church, Silver Creek Presbyterian Church, Central Presbyterian Church, and Westminster Presbyterian Church. For three years, Stephen served as the Choir Director of Columbia Theological Seminary's choir and also served as the Interim Music Director at Westminster Presbyterian Church. In 2014, Stephen graduated from Columbia with a Masters of Divinity and a Masters of Arts in Practical Theology with an emphasis in liturgy, music, and worship. In July of 2014, Stephen was installed an ordained as Teaching Elder at Shelter Island Presbyterian Church in Shelter Island, NY. Later that year, Stephen married the love of his life, Tricia, and they share their home on Shelter Island with their Golden Doodle, Elsie, and their calico cat, Audrey. In addition to his work with the people who are Shelter Island Presbyterian Church, Stephen currently serves as a commission from Long Island Presbytery to the Synod of the Northeast and, beginning in January of 2016, will moderate the Synod's missions team.