By Catherine Clark Kroeger

There had not yet been the first glimmer of dawn in the Jerusalem sky when the drowsy guard thought he detected movement at the entrance leading from the royal palace to the Temple. Who could be trying to gain entrance so early while the portals were still locked?

As he roused himself, the guard recognized the shadowy figure of the king. Well, that was not surprising. King Zedekiah did a lot of pacing around at night. He had plenty of reason to worry with the threat of another Babylonian invasion imminent. That mighty war machine had rolled into Jerusalem once already, and the military takeover had left Zedekiah on the throne in place of the rebellious Jehoiachin.  The deposed king and many others were marched away into exile, but for the rest life still went on in Jerusalem.

In 588 b.c. Zedekiah too had rebelled against the obnoxious overlords, only to become a target of swift retribution. Now all the land of Judah lay within the grip of Babylon, except for the cities of Azekah, Lachish, and Jerusalem. The king had good reason to come to the Temple to pray.

But the guard could detect another figure moving toward the king—recognizable as that of the arch traitor Jeremiah. The would-be prophet was forever preaching a demoralizing message of Babylonian conquest and the need to negotiate a diplomatic surrender.

Take your choice of life or death! Everyone who stays in Jerusalem will die from war, famine, or disease, but those who go out and surrender to the Babylonians will live. (Jer. 21:8–9)

His defeatist attitude was absolutely insupportable! A more unpopular man could not be found in all of Jerusalem. In order to silence him, it had been necessary to put him under arrest and consign him to a dungeon. Undeterred by his first prison term, he had continued to damage morale with his preaching until right-minded folk had him placed in the bottom of a cistern. How senseless to have released him again!

There were other prophets who were far more popular in Jerusalem. They spoke of God’s sure deliverance of the beloved city, of peace that was soon to come, and of the power of the Temple’s sanctity to preserve things as they had always been. These were the voices that brought sorely needed encouragement to a beleaguered people.

Fully awake now and incensed that the king would consult this wretched doomsayer, the guard left his sentry station and crept forward to overhear the conversation. What sort of treachery or treason were the two of them hatching? But the king had chosen the location well, in an open space so that no one could hear what was said between the two.

In point of fact, this encounter was the continuation of an earlier discussion between Zedekiah and Jeremiah. They had met once before privately at the palace. Jeremiah’s message, though gloomy, was not unrealistic. Judah had lost its way long before, and God would no longer protect her from invasion. The approach of the Babylonians, he warned, was now inevitable. But there was still a way to preserve the city, the Temple and the continued reign of her king. The solution lay in suing for peace rather than offering armed resistance.

The Lord God Almighty, the God of Israel says: If you but surrender to Babylon, you and your family will live. And the city will not be burned. But if you refuse to surrender, you will not escape! The city will be handed over to the Babylonians, and they will burn it to the ground. (Jer. 38:17–18)

In point of fact, Jeremiah’s politically astute advice was filled with realism. The rebellion had been a bad mistake. Capitulation would allow Judah’s continued existence as a vassal state, under the people’s own law, their own religious and public health system, their own language and culture.

This prospect was not nearly as rosy as that offered by Jerusalem’s other prophets. They promised an independent state, safety from war, and Jewish sovereignty in their land. “Don’t worry!  The Lord says you will have peace… No harm will come your way” (Jer. 23:17).

But who was to be believed?  Was it not more spiritual to trust solely in God’s provision and protection? How could the nation’s king seek refuge away from the Temple’s protective shadow, among aliens with no knowledge of God? Should not trust be reposed in those who promised God’s miraculous deliverance despite a seemingly impossible situation—rather than in the craggy old prophet who advocated a compromise that could bring safety?

Jeremiah insisted that it was essential to come to terms with the reality of human sin, and to recognize the obstinacy of those who refused to change their sinful conduct. The rival prophets were quite right that God had promised peace and security for his obedient people, but they failed to call for changed conduct where there had been spiritual and moral failure. Jeremiah countered:

Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord!” If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then will I let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers forever and ever. But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless. Will you steal and murder and commit adultery and perjury, burn incense to Baal and follow other gods you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which bears my Name and say, “We are safe”—safe to do all these detestable things? Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching! Declares the Lord. (7:3–11)

Thus Jeremiah insisted that the Lord would no longer provide protection to a city and a temple that disobeyed and dishonored God at every turn. The Babylonian conquest was inevitable, but those who would listen could still find safety.

How often we talk with victims of domestic abuse who must face the same sort of decision. What are they to do in the face of rising danger? There will be some advisors who tell them simply to trust the Lord, to pray harder, to be a more submissive, and all will be well. Is not this the voice of God, and are not those who give this advice speaking from the Scriptures? Would it not be lack of faith to leave an unsafe situation?

There are others who encourage a more realistic view. Human sin may have made the home a very unsafe place in which to live. Is there a consistent pattern of abuse? Is there any evidence of repentance in the life of the offender? Even though abusers often promise to change, this is seldom the case without a lot of very hard work. God gives us free will and often abusers do not wish to change. How hard it is to recognize that!

Other voices may encourage a woman to seek counseling from a community shelter where thousands are guided into patterns of safety. Some view this as worldly wisdom, but it can save lives. It is not lack of faith to acknowledge the devastation that abuse can create in a marriage and to seek positive solutions.

God does indeed work miracles, but faithful believers must also do their part. There are many tragic instances in which a wife returns to a dangerous situation, having been given assurance that God will protect her. Often she brings her family and thereby increases the danger to all of them. There are options that can bring safety and help for a troubled relationship.

King Zedekiah too wrestled between the options that had been offered him. One path seemed more gloriously patriotic, more confident in God’s power to give victory, more worthy of the leadership of a king. How could he engage in a compromise that would concede the overpowering might of the invading enemy?

The other option was more pragmatic: it required acknowledging the results of apostasy and sin. In the case of Judah, it meant understanding the consequences of her unfaithfulness to God and taking appropriate steps to avoid destruction.

Human sin does not leave us with a rosy picture, but we can make wiser choices when we acknowledge its presence. When a victim of abuse is confronted with a need to make a choice, can she look at her circumstances realistically and assess the danger? Is she willing to seek help and shelter from those who do not share her faith? Can she understand that a facility outside her own faith community may be best equipped to provide her with safety, help for her basic needs, care for her children and experienced counseling? Is not this too a provision of God? She may need to decide between believing against all odds—or recognizing the effects of human sin and prayerfully taking appropriate precautions.

Tragically, King Zedekiah decided not to surrender out of fear of his own countrymen. Yet the lives and well-being of so many others hung upon his decision. The refusal to capitulate ended as prophesied, with the burning of the city and the Temple and the deportation into exile of a large part of the population. The message of Jeremiah had been rejected and with it the path to safety.