What a holiday treat! It’s like standing at a Christmas buffet spread with goodies and strategizing the self-inflicted stuffing of my fruitcake hole. For my second helping do I go for a heaping mound of steaming predestination or do I gorge on the sticky, calorie-rich, sweetness of weeping prophet pie?
I’m Going for the Pie!
I have to admit, I’m a sucker for holiday chestnuts with happy endings. But Jeremiah’s turn-about is a bit much even for me. How did he go from Mr. Gloom and Doom to this! Today’s text is heavily laden with sugar and spice and everything Christmasy. I hate to admit that I’m kind of good with all that, really I am. In fact I’d so far as to say that I have a holiday craving for some of that “great company.” I'm all for stumble-free pathways (OK, so I need to shovel my walk). As for delectable combinations of grain, oil and wine and the end of ordinary time languishing? Yum! But then I read verses 13 and 14:
The young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. . . . I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow. I will give the priests their fill of fatness, and my people shall be satisfied with my bounty, says the LORD.
Filled with Fatness
The dancing girls and merry gentleman are fine by me. Pile some more of that joy and gladness onto my holiday plate. But what's up with the priests being “filled with fatness” part? Upon reading that I get this wretching urge to push away from the Christmas table with some self-directed disgust.
I know that in leaner days, when calorie-rich foods were at premium, loading up on the “fat portions” was a considered to be the epitome of epicurean extravangance. Old Testament folks loved the metaphor of God making their hearts and bones fat. Leviticus 3:16 reminds us that even God enjoys chowing down on blubbery fare.
But seriously, aren’t we fat enough? Sorry, maybe I should speak for myself – am I not fat enough?
Jack’s Not Showing Up
All kinds of ethical questions come to mind here from personal habits (which I’d rather not get into), to gorging consumerism, to the tragic way boomer Christianity is turning off souls. Along with artery clogging helpings of platitudes and schtick, we’ve been dishing out gobs of indebtedness. Jack Sprat (would-be-worshipper) can’t/won't ingest all the fat. Given the Bride of Christ’s waste-line, Jack’s opting out of our ceremonies.
The Hardest Question
The counter intuitive message of this text, however, is “more please!” Fatter is better! Are you trying to kill us, Jeremiah? I’m already feeling like the obese parent who's intent on filling up the plates of my family with more and more and more. This begs The Hardest Question for me. What IS the fatness you're talking about, Jeremiah, and why the hell would I want any more of it? Is there still something about Jeremiah’s “fatness” we should stick a fork into?
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Christian Walther - now there's a name. What can I say? Christian? Why, yes, I am. Thank you very much. No one has made a better offer[ing] than Jesus, the Christ, as far as I’m concerned . . . least of all nihilistic atheism. As for the Walther heritage? You’ve got to love a guy who says of the Word and Sacraments: “Whoever does not go to these places to lift the treasure will not fetch any gold. What he gets may look like gold, but it is mere tinsel” ( C.F.W. Walther, The Proper Distinction between Law and Gospel, Sixteenth Evening Lecture).
