This week has been rough.  It’s just been a long slog.  And by yesterday evening, I was just feeling bad.  There’s an Arabic word for it, za’alaana, which means something along the lines of upset and sad mixed together and that’s how I’ve been feeling.  And it was made worse by the fact that I couldn’t quite pinpoint the reasons for it.  I knew I felt za’alaana but I didn’t know why. 

And then, this morning, as I listened to NPR, I discovered why.  I need to stop listening to the news.  Here’s just a smattering of what I’ve been hearing over the past couple of weeks, with it all intensifying, ratcheting up in the last few days:

• The global climate crisis.  All the projections portend doom on an apocalyptic scale unless some kind of drastic action takes place now and despite UN summits and local commitments to sustainability, I don’t see any sort of large-scale drastic action coming down the pike anytime soon, much less now.  I still dutifully recycle my kids’ hundreds (it seems) colored pages but it seems like such an irrelevant action at this point.  What does such a small action matter when corporations and nations are doing next to nothing to avert disaster?

• The global moral crisis.  Iran.  North Korea.  Russia.  Syria.  Afghanistan.  A trade war with China.  Myopic nationalism in more countries than I can count.  Violence and unrest in Venezuela.  The continuing tragic horror of Yemen.  The clusterf— that is Saudi Arabia and our relationship to them, just to name a few.  And of course, the U.S. is no help.   As a country, on the global stage, we seem to be backing away from friends who might join with us to provide a positive way forward and heading towards those whose intentions are misguided at best, cruel at worst. 

• The immigration crisis.  I can’t even with this one.  It’s so awful and sad and tragic.  And that’s about all I can say.

• The domestic moral crisis.  At least it feels like a crisis to me.  I am desperate for a sign of the basic human decency in those who lead our country and every morning, when I hear the news, I find the opposite.  Everyone, everyone seems to be motivated by the lust for power, personal ambition, and greed or some even more toxic combination of these things.  Where, where is there a leader who states boldly: I am doing this because this is what must be done; this is what is right.  They do not exist. 

Day after day, I am bombarded by these things and I am overwhelmed and trapped and upset by it all.  Where is there relief?

And into such darkness comes Scripture:

This Sunday, we will hear from Psalm 91: “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High abides under the shadow of the Almighty.  You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day; of the plague that stalks in the darkness, nor of the sickness that lays waste at mid-day.  Because he is bound to me in love, therefore will I deliver him; I will protect him because he knows my Name.”

And then, there is the prophet Jeremiah who, with the Babylonian army literally at the gates of the city where he is being held prisoner by a corrupt king, nonetheless buys a plot of land – a worthless plot of land that probably already lies beneath the boots of Babylonian soldiers.  “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel,” says Jeremiah: “Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.” 

Destruction and doom are upon Jeremiah, upon his country and his family and his friends.  They will be destroyed.  This will not end well.  And yet, Jeremiah clings to hope.  He trusts in the power of God to overcome even our own foolishness and failures and to bring life out of death.  Maybe Jeremiah won’t live to see it.  Maybe the righteous remnant will be few indeed.  But Jeremiah takes the long view and he trusts in the power of God’s love.  Some day, some day, houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land. 

I need me a little Jeremiah this week.  I am grateful for the reminder that, by the grace of God, hope endures.