
But if I say, “I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,” his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.
Jeremiah 20:9
This week on Wednesday night we were making a slow trek through Jeremiah. I’ve read parts of Jeremiah before (29:11, and his call) but I’ve never gone through the whole thing before. In this particular section, the latter part of chapter 20, Jeremiah is complaining to God of the hardship of being the prophet.
He speaks of being ridiculed and insulted, his friends waiting for the opportunity to betray him. As I’m writing I’m beginning to see foreshadowing of the life of Christ, but that’s not the purpose of this post.
There have been a number of times in the last 9 years that I have encountered scientific/materialistic explanations of the universe. I fancy myself a man of intelligence, and in order to be recognized as such, I chose to hold my tongue, and discuss the issue as if I believed those explanations.
I’ve also found myself in discussions with people with whom I disagree theologically on the most basic principles of the Christian faith. But, being outnumbered, I chose to stay silent on the contentious topics, and only discuss those things with which I knew we agreed.
In both of those situations, I discovered after a time that I became “weary of holding it in”. That’s how this site was born, and what brought on the Counterpoints discussion. I needed a way to let the fire out.
The thing about fire is the flames. This flame presented itself in different ways: passion, frustration, anger, excitement, energy. When discussing the love and power and grace and sovereignty of God I lose all sense of anything else. Everything points to him, and the notion that anything points away is error. There were times when I felt as though I may have been letting the flame burn too hot. But after sampling the disputations of Luther and reading about the demeanor of other great theologians, I see that the fury of God’s Word is something that has a life of its own.