Baruch’s Book

“The Lord, the God of Israel, says this to you, Baruch,” Jeremiah told him. “You said, ‘How miserable I am! The Lord has added sorrow to my pain. I am weary from groaning, and I find no rest.’”

And the Lord told Jeremiah to say to him: “The Lord says, ‘What I have built, I will break down, and what I have planted, I will pull up. I will do this across the whole land. Are you looking for great things for yourself? Don’t look for them. I will bring harm on all people,’ says the Lord, ‘but I will let you escape with your life wherever you go.’”

Baruch read it aloud to Jehoiachin son of Jehoiakim, king of Judah, and to everyone who came to hear it: the powerful men, the kings’ sons, the elders and all the people living in Babylon by the river Sud, from the least to the greatest.

Then they wept, they fasted, and they prayed in the Lord’s presence.

They took up a collection of money, each giving as much as he could, and sent it to Jerusalem: to Joakim the high priest, the son of Helkias son of Salom, and to the priests and all the people there with him.

At the same time, the vessels of the Lord’s house that had been carried out of the temple were being taken back to the land of Judah, on the tenth day of Sivan. Zedekiah son of Josiah, king of Judah, had made these silver vessels after Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon took Jehoiachin away to Babylon, with the princes, the captives, the powerful men and the people of the land.

With the money they sent a message: “We are sending you money. Use it to buy burnt offerings, sin offerings and incense. Prepare an offering, and offer it all on the altar of the Lord our God.

“Pray for the life of Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon, and for the life of Belshazzar his son. Pray that they may live as long as heaven is above the earth. The Lord will give us strength and light to our eyes. We will live under their protection, serve them for many days, and find favor with them.

“Pray to the Lord our God for us too, because we have sinned against him, and to this day his anger and fury have not turned away from us. Read this book we are sending you, and make your confession with it in the Lord’s house on the feast day and on the days when the people gather for worship.”

It goes on: ever since the Lord brought their ancestors out of Egypt, they have disobeyed him. So disasters have clung to them, and so has the curse he announced through his servant Moses when he brought them out to give them a land flowing with milk and honey. They did not listen to the prophets he sent, but each followed his own wicked heart, served foreign gods, and did evil in the Lord’s sight.

So the Lord did what he had said he would do to them and to their judges, their kings and their princes. The disasters he brought on Jerusalem were like nothing that had ever happened anywhere under heaven. Just as the law of Moses had said, people there ate their own sons and daughters. He put them under the rule of the kingdoms around them. They were scattered, scorned and brought low, because they sinned. Righteousness belongs to the Lord, the confession says again, and shame belongs to them. Yet they did not plead for his favor, turn from their wicked hearts, or listen to his voice.

They don’t plead by pointing to how righteous their ancestors or their kings were. Through the prophets the Lord had told them to bow their shoulders, serve the king of Babylon and stay in their land. If they didn’t, he would silence the voices of joy and gladness, the voices of the bridegroom and the bride, and leave the land empty. They would not listen. So the bones of their kings and ancestors were taken from where they lay and thrown out into the heat of the day and the frost of the night. They died in great misery, from famine, the sword and disease. Because of the wickedness of Israel and Judah, the Lord has made the house called by his name what it is today.

Yet the Lord has dealt with them in kindness and great mercy, as he said through Moses. He had said that if they would not listen, they would shrink to a few among the nations. He knew they would not listen, because they were a stubborn people. But in their captivity they would take it to heart and know he is the Lord their God. He would give them a heart and ears to hear. Then they would praise him, think about his name, and turn from their stubborn, wicked ways, because they would remember how their ancestors sinned. He would bring them back to rule the land he promised Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and make them grow in number. “I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will be their God, and they will be my people. Never again will I remove my people Israel from the land I have given them.”

They ask him to hear the prayer of the dead of Israel and of the children of those who sinned against him. They ask him not to remember their ancestors’ wrongs, but to remember his own power and his name. He has put the fear of him in their hearts so that they would call on him. They will praise him in their captivity, where even now they are a disgrace and a curse. They are paying for the wrongs of ancestors who turned away from the Lord their God.

The rulers of the nations ruled the animals and piled up silver and gold without end. Where are they now? They have vanished and gone down to Hades. Younger men and their children have not known the way of knowledge either. No one has heard of it in Canaan or seen it in Teman. None of those who seek understanding have known the way of wisdom: not the sons of Agar, not the merchants of Merran and Teman, not the makers of fables.

“Israel, how great is the house of God!” the book says: vast, endless, too high to measure. Long ago famous giants were born, very tall and expert in war. But God didn’t choose them or give them the way of knowledge. So they perished because they had no wisdom; their own foolishness destroyed them.

“Don’t give your glory to another,” it says, “or give what is good for you to a foreign nation. Israel, how happy we are! What pleases God has been made known to us.”

Jerusalem saw the anger that came on them from God, and she said, “Listen, you who live near Zion. God has brought great mourning on me. I have seen the captivity the Everlasting has brought on my sons and daughters. I raised them with joy, but I sent them away with weeping and mourning.

“Let no one rejoice over me, a widow, abandoned by many. I am left all alone because of my children’s sins. They turned away from God’s law, paid no attention to his rules, and did not walk in the ways of his commandments or the paths of his discipline. Let those who live near Zion come and remember my children’s captivity. God brought a nation against them from far away, a shameless nation with a strange language. It had no respect for old men and no pity for children. They carried off the widow’s dear sons and left her alone, without her daughters.”

“My children, patiently bear the anger that has come on you from God. Your enemy has hounded you, but soon you will see his ruin and put your feet on their necks. My delicate ones have traveled rough roads, carried off like a flock by enemies. Take courage and call to God; the one who brought this on you will remember you. You once chose to wander from God; now turn back and seek him ten times as hard. The one who brought these troubles on you will save you and bring you everlasting joy again.”

Then the words turn to the city herself: “Take courage, Jerusalem! The one who called you by name will comfort you. Miserable are those who hurt you and were glad when you fell. Miserable are the cities your children served, and miserable is the city that took in your sons. Just as she was glad at your fall, she will grieve at her own ruin. I will take away her pride in her crowds, and her boasting will turn to mourning. Fire will come on her from the Everlasting for many days, and demons will live in her for a long time.”

“Get up, Jerusalem, stand on the heights and look east. See your children gathered from where the sun sets to where it rises, at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that God has remembered them. They went from you on foot, led away by enemies, but God brings them back to you, carried high with glory, on a royal throne. God has given orders for the high mountains and the everlasting hills to be made low, and for the valleys to be filled in, so that Israel can walk safely in his glory. At his command the woods and every sweet-smelling tree have shaded Israel. God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with his mercy and righteousness.”

There they would see gods of silver, gold and wood carried on people’s shoulders, gods that make the nations afraid. “Don’t become like these foreigners in any way,” the letter says, “and don’t let fear take hold of you when you see crowds worshiping them. Say in your hearts, ‘Lord, we must worship you.’ My angel is with you, and I myself care for your souls.”

A workman polished these gods’ tongues, but they are fakes and can’t speak. They are covered with gold and silver. People make gold crowns for their heads, as if for a girl who loves to be happy, and dress them like people, in purple. Yet they can’t save themselves from rust and moths, and the temple’s dust must be wiped off their faces. Sometimes the priests spend the gods’ gold and silver on themselves, and even give some to prostitutes. One of them holds a scepter, as if he were a judge, and a dagger and an axe too. But he can’t put to death anyone who offends him, or save himself from war and robbers. “This shows they are not gods. So don’t be afraid of them.”

They are as worthless as a broken pot. Dust from people’s feet fills their eyes. The priests lock up their temples so robbers won’t carry the gods off. They light more candles for the gods than for themselves, though the gods can’t see a single one. The gods are like the temple’s beams. People say that creeping things from the ground eat out their hearts and eat their clothes too. They don’t feel it, and they don’t feel the smoke that blackens their faces. Bats, swallows and birds land on their bodies and heads, and so do cats. “This is how you can know they are not gods. So don’t be afraid of them.”

Their gold won’t shine unless someone wipes off the tarnish. They felt nothing even when they were melted. People pay any price for these things that have no breath in them. They have no feet, so they must be carried. If one falls, it can’t get up by itself, and those who serve them are ashamed. Offerings are set in front of them as if they were dead. The priests sell the sacrifices, their wives store some away in salt, and the poor get none. Women during their monthly period or just after giving birth touch the sacrifices. “These things show you they are not gods, so don’t be afraid of them.”

How can they be called gods? Women set food in front of them. The priests sit in front of them in torn clothes, with their heads and beards shaved, roaring and crying as people do at a funeral feast. They take the gods’ clothes and dress their own wives and children in them. Whether someone does them harm or good, they can’t pay it back. They can’t set up a king or remove one, or give riches. If someone makes a vow to them and doesn’t keep it, they can’t make him keep it. They can’t save anyone from death. They can’t rescue the weak from the mighty. They can’t give a blind man his sight, help anyone in trouble, or show mercy to a widow or an orphan. These gods of wood, gold and silver are like stones cut out of the mountain. Those who serve them will be put to shame.

Carpenters and goldsmiths make them, and they can be nothing but what the workmen make them. Their makers don’t live long, so how could the things they make last? The makers leave lies and disgrace to those who come after. When war or plague comes, the priests look for somewhere to hide with the gods. The gods are only wood covered with gold and silver. They can’t save themselves, set up a king, give rain, judge their own case or right a wrong, because they are like crows between heaven and earth. Even when fire falls on their temple, the priests escape, and the gods burn to pieces like the beams. They can’t stand against a king or an enemy, or keep thieves from stripping off their gold, silver and clothes. All nations and kings will see they are false, made by people’s hands, with no work of God in them. Each of these is better than such false gods: a king who shows he is a man, a useful pot, a door that keeps a house’s things safe, a pillar of wood in a palace.

The sun, the moon and the stars obey when they are sent. The lightning is beautiful when it flashes. The wind blows in every country. When God commands the clouds to go over the whole world, they go. And the fire sent from above to burn up mountains and woods does as it is told. These gods are nothing like them in looks or power. They can’t judge cases or do people good. They can’t curse kings or bless them. They can’t show signs in the sky among the nations, shine as the sun does or give light as the moon does. Animals are better than they are, because animals can find shelter and help themselves. “You can see, then, that they are not gods. So don’t be afraid of them.”

Their gods of wood covered with gold and silver are like a scarecrow in a cucumber patch, which keeps nothing safe. They are like a white thornbush in an orchard that every bird lands on, and like a dead body thrown out into the dark. The bright purple rotting on them shows they are not gods. In the end they themselves will be destroyed, and they will be a disgrace in the land.

It is better, then, to be a righteous man who has no idols. He will be far from disgrace.