How to Have Hope for a New Year

Aside from midnight church services, family reunions, and Ryan Seacrest parties, a significant number of people will celebrate New Year’s Day from the less festive setting of one of the many Syrian refugee camps, in countries like Greece, Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, or Iraq.

These camps symbolize the narrative of the millions of Syrians who have fled their homeland due to the civil war raging since 2011. Their past is filled with political and financial trauma associated with refugee life. Their future is even more threatening as they struggle to reunite with loved ones, deal with the tragic deaths, and readjust to a new life where their Syrian passports may be their single economic asset. Their future is largely unknown. For these survivors, what is so “happy” about 2016?

Of course, the crisis of socially displaced refugees is not new to human history. The destruction of Jerusalem in 587 B.C. created a wave of refugees. These displaced Judeans lost their land, their livelihood, and they had to forge new identities in their displacement. The violent destruction of Jerusalem did not just target the professional military soldiers, but also children, who shared in the suffering. The book of Jeremiah largely addresses this crisis. The not-too-popular prophet speaks strongly of God’s wrath in Jeremiah chapters 1-29 and 34-52.

But in the midst of the prophetic judgment, Jeremiah 30-33 provides a vastly different perspective on Judah’s social displacement. These chapters speak warmly of promise and restoration. The contrast to the rest of Jeremiah is so striking that scholars distinguish this section of Jeremiah 30-33 as the Book of Comfort.

This week’s reading of Jeremiah 31:7-14 is particularly replete with comfort for the socially displaced. Consider the following

• Even among the refugees, Jeremiah highlights the most socially displaced, calling the “blind and lame, those with child and those in labor” (8).
• The long physical journey is acknowledged, as the refugees remain in “the farthest parts of the earth” (8).
• God will alleviate the physical needs of an arduous return with promise of fresh water sources (9).
• Jeremiah does not ignore their suffering, but validates their “weeping” (9).
• The prophet promises God’s restitution in physical ways with “the grain, the wine, and the oil, and the young flock and the herd” (12).

Significantly, we must remember that Jeremiah was a prophet who chose to stay in Jerusalem. Consequently, this passage addresses not only the refugees scattered throughout the world, but also the non-exiled, who remained in Judah. Today, you can imagine the residents within these camps reading these same words in this Book of Comfort as the many North Americans in churches proclaiming Jeremiah 31:7-14 as part of their weekly lectionary passage. Jeremiah wanted all to read about the promises given to these refugees. He even commands to “Hear the word of the LORD, O nations, and it declare it to the coastlands far away” (10). Jeremiah implores the Judeans of Jerusalem to think about the displaced refugees, to empathize with their plight and to look towards a future hope. Despite the harsh reality of refugee life, Jeremiah prophesies a return to their homeland to live abundantly. The passage culminates with God’s bold promise, “I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow” (13).

Jeremiah clearly states that God is the primary instigator in reversing the fortune of these downtrodden refugees. But I would like to think that Jeremiah invites the “nations” to serve as agents in bringing about relief to the refugees. The intended audience of both exiles and non-exiles brings solidarity to the crisis. Both will mourn in the painful losses, but both can also take refuge in the promising restoration of God.

And although the parallel with the Syrian refugee crisis is particularly apt for Jeremiah 31:7-14, as modern readers, we can expand the refugee situation to all those who face a similarly traumatic crises, whether through poverty, racial aggression, gender discrimination, and the myriad forms of marginalization that plague our world. Jeremiah acknowledges that the world can look dark. Part of the burden of the non-refugees is to share in the weeping, but also in the future hope.

So today, from warm living rooms and churches, perhaps we can read Jeremiah 31:7-14 in full consideration of those facing these burdens. Perhaps our shared reading from a position of privilege may compel us to use said privilege to serve as agents of God’s restoration to the hurting. In this way, we can truly share in the joy for those who literally and figuratively spend New Year’s Day within the fences of a refugee camp. For the Bible is clear that we are our brother’s and sister’s keeper.

This post originally appeared at ON Scripture.