Ropes and Rags

We’re going to read this evening from the Old Testament and from Jeremiah and chapter 38. We’re going to read the first thirteen verses:

“Shephatiah son of Mattan, Gedaliah son of Pashhur, Jehucal [the] son of Shelemiah, and Pashhur son of Malkijah heard what Jeremiah was telling all the people when he said, ‘This is what the Lord says: “Whoever stays in this city will die by the sword, famine or plague, but whoever goes over to the Babylonians will live. He will escape with his life; he will live.” And this is what the Lord says: “This city will certainly be handed over to the army of the king of Babylon, who will capture it.”’

“Then the officials said to the king, ‘This man should be put to death. He is discouraging the soldiers who are left in this city, as well as all the people, by the things he is saying to them. This man is not seeking the good of these people but their ruin.’

“‘He is in your hands,’ King Zedekiah answered. ‘The king can do nothing to oppose you.’

“So they took Jeremiah and put him into the cistern of Malkijah, the king’s son, which was in the courtyard of the guard. They lowered Jeremiah by ropes into the cistern; it had no water in it, only mud, and Jeremiah sank down into the mud.

“But Ebed-Melech, a Cushite, an official in the royal palace, heard that they had put Jeremiah into the cistern. While the king was sitting in the Benjamin Gate, Ebed-Melech went out of the palace and said to him, ‘My lord the king, these men have acted wickedly in all they have done to Jeremiah the prophet. They have thrown him into a cistern, where he will starve to death when there is no longer any bread in the city.’

“Then the king commanded Ebed-Melech the Cushite, ‘Take thirty men from here with you and lift Jeremiah the prophet out of the cistern before he dies.’

“So Ebed-Melech took the men with him and went to a room under the treasury in the palace. He took some old rags and worn-out clothes from there and let them down with ropes to Jeremiah in the cistern. Ebed-Melech the Cushite said to Jeremiah, ‘Put these old rags and worn-out clothes under your arms to pad the ropes.’ Jeremiah did so, and they pulled him up with the ropes and lifted him out of the cistern. And Jeremiah remained in the courtyard of the guard.”

Thanks be to God for his Word.

The Condition of Jeremiah

R. E. O. White, who was a Baptist minister in Scotland—actually, the principal of the Baptist College in Glasgow for a time—describes this scene here which we have just read as “one of the shining cameos of the Old Testament.”[1] And it is surely that. I recognize that for us to dip into the central part of a book, an Old Testament book like this, is fairly challenging. But I do so purposefully, and I hope that our study will stand sufficiently on its own so as not to be inhibited by our unawareness of what is going on in the preceding chapters.

Suffice it to say that the events that are before us here were occurring probably—these chapters, 36, 37, and 38—right around 588 BC, perhaps into the early months of 587 BC. And what we have discovered from our reading as we focus on Jeremiah, the prophet of God, is that Jeremiah has been doing what God has called him to do—namely, delivering the message of the Lord. And he has said in verse 2, “This is what the Lord says, ‘Whoever stays in this city will die [either] by the sword, [by] famine or [by] plague.’”

Jerusalem had actually been overrun, and for these inhabitants of Jerusalem now to try and stand against the forces which had overwhelmed them was really simply to prolong the agony of their circumstances and would prove to be nothing other than the height of obstinate stupidity. Verse 3 makes it clear that the Lord himself had declared through the prophet Jeremiah that this city was certainly being handed over to the army of the king of Babylon. And therefore, Jeremiah is saying to the people in the city, “It is important for you to make at this point a strategic decision.” And in doing so, he delivers the message of the Lord.

We then discover in verse 4 that this same prophet, in fulfilling the task he’s been given, is then accused of being a traitor: “Then the officials said to the king, ‘This man should be put to death.’” Now, the only way that we can conclude that this man is a traitor is if we are of the opinion that a soldier or a fortress or an army should never, ever surrender, even when all is lost. If we believe that in military engagement there comes a strategic moment when the wisest thing to do is to capitulate to the overwhelming force, then we would understand, especially in light of the fact that Jeremiah was speaking the word of the Lord, that for these officials to describe him as a traitor was hopelessly inaccurate. And yet these four particular nobles, whose names are mentioned here at the opening of the chapter—I’m not going to try and pronounce them again (once was enough)—these four nobles demand the prophet’s death, and you will notice that the king acquiesces.

I tried to read it in a kind of pathetic way, because I think verse 5, on the part of the king, is a pathetic response. Here come these officials who report to the king, whose lives are in the king’s hands, whose duty it is to obey the king. And for them to come and bring this report and for the king then to respond, “He is in your hands …. The king can do nothing to oppose you,” is really too bad. And the king, frankly, is, in common parlance, a wimp. And what you have here in this little section is a perfect monument to total weakness when it comes to the matter of leadership.

And indeed, in all that I know of the Old Testament, there is no more abject declension in the Old Testament than what we find here in this simple incident. You have to, I think, go all the way forward to Pilate washing his hands before you come across such a dreadful and hopeless case of somebody simply throwing in the towel: “The king can do nothing to oppose you.”

So, Jeremiah brings the word of the Lord, Jeremiah is accused of being a traitor, and then you’ll notice that Jeremiah is deposited in this cistern. Verse 6: “So they took Jeremiah and [they] put him into the cistern of Malkijah, the king’s son, which was in the courtyard of the guard.”

Now, the little that I’ve read of these cisterns has yielded this much information: that normally, while these cisterns—and there were many of them that were used for a variety of purposes, not least of all for the retaining of rain water and the storing of other forms of liquid—these cisterns tended to be, on average, about three feet wide at their opening. They then had a neck that went down about another three or four feet, which maintained the diameter of the opening. It then opened out in a bulbous form to create this large container, which, of course, would be large enough to contain a man or perhaps even more than one man.

And it is into this kind of pit that this individual Jeremiah the prophet is placed. And they consign him to this cistern and in doing so really pronounce the sentence of death upon him. They do it in a way that is fairly skillful. His death is going to be, if it follows, rather gradual and also quite revolting. They are taking care to make sure that if ever anybody unearths him, they will never be able to find on his body any marks of violence. There will be nothing about him that will make it possible for someone to come after these nobles and charge them with an indictable capital offense.

In fact, they’re operating in much the same way as did Joseph’s brothers, first of all thinking that they would kill him, then saying, “No, don’t let’s do that,”[2] as a result of the intervention of one—I think it was Rueben—and so they put him in the place, but in point of fact, they’re actually consigning him to death. That’s what these folks do.

The mention of mud would seem to be significant, because, after all, presumably there would always be mud at the bottom of these things—if not when they were pristine in their initial creation, certainly within a matter of time. There would be a residue and a deposit that would form at the bottom. The commentators say that the very mention of mud, the fact that it would be recorded at this point in history, was on account of the fact that the mud would have been waist deep—that if it had just been the normal, natural deposit of mud, there would be no reason for them to say there was mud at the bottom of it. Because everybody would have said, “Well, what surprise is there in that? There’s always mud at the bottom of it.” But for them to mention it in this way was to point out the gravity of the circumstances—that when they let this individual down by these ropes and deposited him in this cistern, he was immediately being absorbed and faced the potential for suffocation even before he faced the possibility of starvation. The king, again, seeking to be removed from any knowledge of it, allows these princes to do the business on their own, lowering him by way of ropes in order that his death might appear to have come about by natural causes.

Well, that’s what we’re told. And it’s fairly straightforward, is it not? The final phrase of verse 6 depicts the predicament in which Jeremiah finds himself: “And Jeremiah sank down into the mud.” So, there you have it. Jeremiah comes into the city, and he proclaims the word of the Lord. The officials say, “This man is a traitor. He should be put to death.” The king acquiesces to those who are under his directives, and before we know it, Jeremiah has now sunk down deep into the mud, with no prospect whatsoever of liberation.

Then you come to verse 7: “But Ebed-Melech, a Cushite, an official in the royal palace, heard that they had put Jeremiah into the cistern.” I’m not going to assume that you immediately think of another vaguely correlative passage when you read this, but I would hope that at least one or two of you might. You remember how, as the young girl goes about the cleaning duties of her day in the stately and ornate surroundings of the home of Naaman, this servant girl hears that the lady for whom she cleans, her husband has leprosy. And it is on account of the fact that God stirs in the heart of a most unlikely young lady, transplanted from all that represented security and family to her—it is going to be by means of the intervention of this servant girl that God brings about the transformation in Naaman.[3]

And when you come here, and you read the predicament of the prophet, and you get to verse 7, and it says, “But Ebed-Melech, a Cushite,” someone as an official in the home of the king, and you say to yourself, “Oh, I wonder if this is going to be one of those occasions!” And to the extent that your intrigue may have been provoked, then you’re about to find it fulfilled.

Look at what we’re told: He was “a Cushite.” That word “Cush,” C-u-s-h, is regularly translated “Ethiopian.” Those who know linguistics best say that it is more than likely that this man came from the region of Nubia and from the Northern Sudan. He was a black man living in this Eastern context, transplanted presumably as a result of the direct marauding intervention of the powerful forces of war. He was himself a foreigner and an alien.

He is described here as an official in a word which, in the Hebrew, is also translated “eunuch.” Sometimes it is translated “official,” sometimes it is translated “eunuch,” because it isn’t always possible to say that the man met the requirements that a eunuch would fulfill. But the chances are that this individual had been taken out of his circumstances, had been brought in bondage to this environment, had been emasculated in order that he might fulfill the responsibility of the keeper of the king’s harem.

Now, if you think about that at all, if anyone might have been expected to have what teenagers say today is “attitude,” if anyone might have been expected to have, as they say, “issues,” then it would presumably have been Ebed-Melech, right? After all, he was in a place that he didn’t want to be. He was in subjugation to a people for whom he had presumably, by nature, very little regard. He had been given a responsibility for which he had been ill suited by nature of his manhood. And yet here it is that this captured, kidnapped, purchased slave, who by virtue of his condition was socially unacceptable, unable to become ever a member of the people of Judah, barred from ever worshipping in the temple—if you like, a complete outcast, somebody who had really no social status as all, somebody who would not be able to go to the parties of the day… He certainly is completely removed from all of the benefits and blessings that would attend the people in whose service he found himself. And yet, in a deliverance that was to come for Jeremiah wholly from above, God reaches down into the heart of this gentle black man.

It’s a wonderful story, and I want just to take you through it to the end. You may still be wondering just why, but I think the point will become clear. I hope so.

“But Ebed-Melech, a Cushite, an official in the royal palace, heard…” I don’t think that’s unique. Probably wasn’t the only person who heard. The word would have gone around the palace, and in result, he, along with others, would have had occasion over coffee in the morning, as it were, to say, “You know, they took Jeremiah, and they put him in a cistern down there in the courtyard of the guard.” So I don’t think he’s the only one who heard, but we’re told that he heard. He probably is not the only one who cared. Doubtless there were others who cared. It would be hard to imagine a circumstance where there was only one person who, on hearing the news of what had happened to Jeremiah, actually cared about it at all. That would be a very unique circumstance. (In fact, drop the “very.” There’s no such thing as “very unique.” That would be a unique circumstance.) But presumably, he is the only one who was prepared to combine compassion with courage.

When he “heard that they had put Jeremiah into the cistern,” and “while the king was sitting in the Benjamin Gate…” Now, for the king to be sitting in the Benjamin Gate was for him to take himself into the place where kings heard the cases of the populace. It was for him to put himself, if you like, in the place of the judge in a court. It was an official position, it was a public position, and it was one to which men and women routinely came. And it is out of the palace to that Benjamin Gate that this individual, Ebed-Melech, goes in order to declare the fact that his compassionate heart is matched by his courageous spirit. And his intervention is a disgrace to the king’s princes. Those who, presumably, upon hearing and caring should have done something did nothing.

And I couldn’t read this without finding that my mind again was fast-forwarding into the story Jesus told which began, “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, … and departed, leaving him half dead,”[4] and then as he tells the story to the crowd, he says, “And there was a priest, and there was a Levite.” Then he watches the listening group as their eyes widen, and he says, “But the Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was, and had compassion on him, and put him on his own donkey, and brought him to an inn.”[5] And the people listening to that story understood the punch in it: Those whom we may have expected to have combined compassion with courage did nothing, and the most unlikely individual steps from the wings and fulfills the plan and purpose of God. But these individuals withstood Jeremiah. And the reason for their opposition was simply because he spoke to them the word of the Lord.

The Character of Ebed-Melech

Now having described, then, the condition of Jeremiah, let me just encourage you to think for a moment about the way in which we see these characteristics of this lovely Ebed-Melech man being given to us.

First and straightforwardly, witness his boldness. His boldness. It would have been one thing for him to hold a conviction to himself, perhaps even to have tried to send a note somehow to the king, to do it in a discreet way, to wait until the king returned to his palace, to catch him in a corridor, to say behind a cough, “Excuse me? I just wondered if I might speak you about Jeremiah? Jeremiah. Sometime, we could maybe get together, and perhaps…” But no, he takes himself out of the palace. He goes to the place of judgement. He goes directly to the king. He goes publicly to the king. Witness his boldness.

Witness, secondly, his sense of moral outrage. He went out of the palace, and he said to him, “My lord the king, these men have acted wickedly.” In other words, this man possessed a sense of moral rectitude. He understood that right was right and wrong was wrong and that what had taken place in this moment was so clearly wrong that someone had to stand up and say so. All that it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to remain silent. And they remained silent. And out of the wings comes this lovely, gentle, courageous, powerful, dramatic Ethiopian.

For him to proceed in such a fashion was to bring himself into the place of disrepute. It certainly was to bring himself into the place of danger. I think the way in which we have this described for us is in order that we might understand that he was not acting on the basis of some random impulse—that all of a sudden, his heart ran away with him; that he had a passionate outburst and shouted out or did something. No, presumably, from the time of hearing and caring to acting, he had been able to think very carefully about the implications of what he was going to do if he was prepared to follow on in his boldness. And so, as you see him stand before the king at the Benjamin Gate, he stands there purposefully, and it is, if you like, a premeditated act.

Ebed-Melech understood that right was right and wrong was wrong and that what had taken place in this moment was so clearly wrong that someone had to stand up and say so.

Witness his boldness. Witness his sense of moral outrage. Witness, thirdly, his resourcefulness. Notice how easily the king is won over again in verse 10. What a vacillating character this man is—and yet in the providence of God, in order that his purposes may be fulfilled. And he speaks to the king, and so the king says, “Well, in that case, take thirty men from here with you and lift Jeremiah the prophet out of the cistern before he dies.”

There’s something of Nehemiah about this next move, you know. Isn’t there? That Nehemiah, when the king gave him the go ahead, he was ready, you know. He wasn’t just wandering around in a dwalm. He wasn’t just going around in a fog waiting for something to hit him on the head and inspire him to activity. As soon as the signal was given, as soon as the light went to green, Nehemiah revealed his leadership capacities and his purposefulness and his resourcefulness. And so does this man, at least to some extent.

That’s why as you follow him, you find him taking the men with him, and they’re going to a room under the treasury in the palace. He must have said to the men, “Come with me.” No big fuss. No bother. They were assigned to him; they followed him.

“Where are we going?” they must have said to one another.

“Well, he’s taking us down to the palace treasury.”

“Why are we going down there? And why are we going in the basement?”

And into the basement he goes, and out of the basement he comes. And he’s carrying with him a bunch of old rags and old clothes that he has gathered from underneath the temple treasury. And the group of thirty are looking at one another and saying, “What in the world is he going to be doing with these things?” He said, “Come on, men. Let’s keep moving. We have places to go. We have people to see.” And along with the old rags and the old clothes he brings with him the rope that is going to be necessary for the liberation of the prophet.

Witness his boldness. Witness his sense of moral outrage. Witness his resourcefulness. Witness his tenderness and his compassion. So Ebed-Melech took these men, and he took these worn-out clothes and the ropes. That they had to bring Jeremiah out directly was not in question. But consider the thoughtfulness and the gentleness of this man as he calls down the instructions to the beleaguered prophet.

“Jeremiah?”

“Yes!”

“We’re going to let down a rope to you, Jeremiah.”

“Thank you.”

“Jeremiah, we’re going to throw some stuff down on top of the rope—a bunch of old clothes and rags. Don’t be put off by this. Don’t let them hit you on the head. But they’ll be coming down just directly afterwards. Have you got them all?”

“Yes.”

“And Jeremiah, we don’t want to scar you and burn you, because we’re going to have to pull you out of this mud. It’s imperative that we get you out. You mustn’t die. We daren’t allow you to suffocate. Take the rags that I’ve thrown down to you, and wrap them round the ropes so that when you put them under your armpits, they will act as a buffer against your skin. And when you’re ready, let me know, and then we’ll start to pull.”

Don’t you like this man already—this Ebed-Melech, this nobody man? Indeed, the name Ebed-Melech may not even be a name. It is possible that it simply translates “one of the king’s servants.” He doesn’t even have a name! You remember it’s said of Jesus that he “made himself of no reputation”?[6]

And so, with the king’s permission and with the help of these others, Ebed-Melech hauls the aging prophet out of the cistern and, we’re told, into the safety of the courtyard of the guard.

What a scene that must have been! Jeremiah, after all these years of giving himself to the task of proclaiming the word of the Lord, speaking, “Thus says God to you: Leave the city; get on with the Babylons. It’s your only hope of life. Take your children and flee.” Then on the receiving end of the charge of traitor! How wrong was that? How immoral was such an allegation? And how wrong was it for him to end up in this predicament? And now for him to be hauled out, with all the mud coming off his cloak and off his sandals and all the stench of the rotting cistern, and here these ropes and rags preventing him from the burning, searing pain that could have been attached if someone less compassionate, less resourceful, less thoughtful had gone to do the necessary task.

A Challenge, an Example, and a Glimpse

Well then, let me conclude in this way.

First of all, do you not see that here there is a challenge that needs to be faced? A challenge that needs to be faced. It’s the challenge that is presented to us by this man. And it is this: Let us learn to be courageous when necessity requires it. If Ebed-Melech had said, “You know, it’ll never happen,” he could have talked himself out of this. Between the time that he heard the news, processed the information, adopted a strategy in his mind, if he had simply said, “You know, it’s not really possible to pull this off,” then he could have said, “Well, there’s really no point in making a fuss.”

Says Calvin in a quite wonderful reference to this—he says, “[Those] who are over-wise are often led, as it were, into inertness.”[7] “[Those] who are over-wise are often led … into inertness.” That’s, incidentally, why many churches go nowhere: because the leadership is so overwise. They think in such logical terms all the time. They are totally paralyzed when it comes to boldness or to courage or to faith or to growth or to liberation. And you find congregations that have actually just remained static and inert, and they’re going nowhere at all. But it’s all logical, you see. It’s all been thoroughly analyzed, you know. “We have considered the possibilities and have concluded that it is a bad use of resources. We have considered that it may be possible under some circumstances, but we don’t believe that now is the time, you know, to take these kind of outlandish steps.”

If this man had figured it in that way at all, there would be no wonderful Old Testament cameo for us to consider in this evening hour. He could have said to himself, “You know, if the king has given into the fury of these nobles, what’s the point in me trying? If I go and stir up a fuss, the next thing I’ll know, we’ll have a riot, I’ll die, and in the meantime, they’ll probably stone Jeremiah and get him out of the way for good. I don’t think I’ll do it.”

How abundant are the excuses that you and I contrive, determining them to be the products of our logic! But in this man’s case, as Kidner puts it, “Love spoke louder than logic, and prevailed.”[8] I love that. I’d like to write one line like that before I die: “Love spoke louder than logic and prevailed.”

So then, let us face the challenge that this man provides for us. It is a challenge to proceed on our course, to fulfill our duty, to allow no one and nothing to divert us from the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.[9] Will you take up this challenge in the context to which you return tomorrow? Will you give yourself to Christ afresh and tell him that you’re prepared to be resourceful and bold, that you long to be useful, that you will not allow yourself to sidestep the issues under the contrivances of logical thinking? We certainly will not put it in opposition to the demands of love and duty.

How abundant are the excuses that you and I contrive, determining them to be the products of our logic!

So, there’s the challenge. And what of the example, then, to follow? Well, it is clear, is it not, that there is an example to follow? It is an example which combines firmness with compassion. It’s an example which is able to use the ropes, as they are necessary, but at the same time ensuring that we do not do so without the rags, which are equally necessary. Surely [Ebed-Melech] would have been justified in intervening with a measure of roughness. It would have been regarded as the evidence of concern.

“Jeremiah?”

“Yes?”

“Grab this. Run!”

“Hey! Oh! Uph! You’ve dislocated my shoulders! You’ve pulled my arms out their sockets! Thanks for getting me out, but I’ll never be the same again, you know. Could you have gone a little slower?”

“Oh, we had to get you out. Got to get you out!”

It would have been justified. People would have said, “You know, it’s a shame that Jeremiah walks around like that now, but at least they got him out, you know. If he had stayed, he would have suffocated in the mud, or he would have starved to death.”

Some of us are good with ropes. Oh, yes! Some of us are good with ropes. We are by nature rough. We’ll yank them out: “They should never have been in there in the first place. Get out of there! Grab ahold of this and get out. It’s your own fault. Come out of there! Why did you say that? Why did you do that? Why did you go there? Come on now! I’m dropping the rope. Pull on. Hold on. And what if your hands burn? What if it leaves you with marks under your armpits? Just get up and get out.” Some of us are good with ropes.

And certainly, to have dropped down the rags alone would have been absolutely useless in terms of getting of him out. What would he have done? He could have used them to, I suppose, wipe some of the mud off the lower part of his body. He could have used them to blow his nose. He could have used them to wipe his brow under the heat of the day as it came to him. But the rags alone would provide no opportunity for evacuation from his sorry predicament.

Some of us are very good with rags—very good with rags. But we want always just to leave people where they are: “There, there now. You’re okay now. You’ll be fine now.” And there’s no change. There’s no move. There’s no liberation. It all sounds very kind. The words are nice, and the gestures are meaningful, but there is no evacuation. Hence the combination. Hence the example: the ropes with the rags.

Do you know the first word that comes on the list in 2 Peter 1, when Peter says, “[I want you] to add to your faith” these things? What’s the first word? “Goodness.”[10] That’s the first word: “goodness.” Right in the heart in the fruit of the spirit in Galatians 5: “goodness.”[11] Titus chapter 2, in the wonderful section that begins at verse 9, where it says, “The grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men, teaching us to say no to ungodliness and worldly passions,” and so on. And it finishes with the phrase “and to make a people who are eager to do good.”[12] Galatians chapter 6: “Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently.”[13] “Gently.” “Oh, yeah, we’re going to need the ropes, ’cause he’s got to be pulled out. But we’ll need the rags so as not to harm him.” Isn’t that what Paul says to the Thessalonians? “And we, as the apostles of Christ, were gentle among you the way a mother is kind to her kids.”[14]

Fundamentalism and evangelical Christianity is masterful with ropes. We got all kinds of ropes. We’re missing some of the rags. Liberalism has made a Christianity of rags and has no ropes.

So there’s a challenge to face, there’s an example to follow, and finally, I think there’s a glimpse here to ponder. A glimpse to ponder. Because I don’t think it is possible to look into the description of this Ebed-Melech—to spend, if you like, a moment or two in his company as we’ve done… (Some of the kids are saying, “More than a moment or two, Pastor.” Don’t worry. We’re almost there.) But to spend a moment or two in his company should give us a glimpse of Jesus. For the law came by Moses, and grace and truth came by Jesus.[15]

See, Jeremiah needed a friend. From the company of those most considered possibilities, no one emerges. And from the servant quarters, God stirs from heaven and moves such an unlikely man to fulfill such an amazing purpose. He gives me a glimpse of Jesus.

I’ve found a friend, oh, such a friend!
He loved me ere I knew him,
He drew me with the cords of love,
And thus he bound me to him.
And round my heart [so] closely twine
[These] ties [that] naught can sever,
For I am his, and he is mine,
Forever and forever.[16]

If Ebed-Melech had lived in our day, having gone through the privileged experience described here 600 years BC, I’m sure that when he walked along the corridor of his palace back to his job and he heard the music, he’d be saying “Yes!” as it goes,

And you just might have a problem that we understand;
We all need somebody to lean on.
Oh yeah!
You might have a problem…[17]

“That’s right, Lord. Yes, we do. And you helped me get old Jeremiah—oh, muddy old Jeremiah. We got him up, Lord! Yes, we did. Yes, we did.” He gives me a glimpse of Jesus.

In tenderness he sought me,
Weary and sick with sin,
And on his shoulders brought me
Back to his fold again. …

Oh, the love that sought me!
Oh, the blood that bought me!
Oh, the grace that brought me to [his] fold,
Wondrous grace that brought me to [his] fold![18]

Ebed-Melech: an Old Testament cameo. Ropes and rags.

Father, bring your Word, we pray, to bear upon our lives as individuals. Some of us are actually in miry clay on account of the fact that we have never, ever considered what it means that Jesus came to rescue us. And we need to cry out to you so that you might put our feet upon a rock and establish our going and put a new song in our hearts.[19]

Some of us, Lord, have been standing on the rock and bemoaning how many people are down in the mud. We find it easier to chastise them for their predicament than we do ever to seek to intervene in their circumstances. Forgive us our hard, stony, cold hearts.

Some of us, Lord, tonight have been so graciously removed from dire predicaments as a result of the intervention of people like Ebed-Melech. And we bless you for them, and we thank you for their memory. And we pray that inasmuch as he is a challenge to us, that we may face the challenge; insofar as he is an example for us, that we might follow the example; and to the extent that he gives us a glimpse of Christ, we pray that we may seek him with all of our hearts.

And for us as a congregation, we pray that you will take a study such as this and burn it into our lives in such a way that we might become, by your grace and favor, a place that is known for the ropes of truth and the rags of grace, so that unbelieving men and women—those who struggle on the seas of life, the lonely and the wretched, the downtrodden, the disappointed, those who live with the symptoms of sin—may be drawn into the fold of Christ so that they may come to say,

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of his love
And covers me there with his hand,
And [he] covers me there with his hand.[20]

For Jesus’ sake. Amen.

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[1] R. E. O. White, The Indomitable Prophet: A Biographical Commentary on Jeremiah; The Man, the Time, the Book, the Tasks (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992), 38.

[2] Genesis 37:21 (paraphrased).

[3] See 2 Kings 5:1–14.

[4] Luke 10:30 (KJV).

[5] Luke 10:31–34 (paraphrased).

[6] Philippians 2:7 (KJV).

[7] John Calvin, Commentaries on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah and the Lamentations, trans. John Owen (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1854), 4:397.

[8] Derek Kidner, The Message of Jeremiah: Against Wind and Tide (Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity, 1987), 125.

[9] See Psalm 23:3.

[10] 2 Peter 1:5 (NIV 1984).

[11] Galatians 5:22 (NIV 1984).

[12] Titus 2:11–12, 14 (paraphrased).

[13] Galatians 6:1 (NIV 1984).

[14] 1 Thessalonians 2:7 (paraphrased).

[15] See John 1:17.

[16] James Grindlay Small, “I’ve Found a Friend” (1863).

[17] Bill Withers, “Lean on Me” (1972). Lyrics lightly altered.

[18] William Spencer Walton, “In Tenderness He Sought Me” (1894).

[19] See Psalm 40:2–3.

[20] Fanny Jane Crosby, “He Hideth My Soul” (1890).