Therefore, behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when it shall no longer be said, ‘As the Lord lives who brought up the people of Israel out of the land of Egypt,’ but ‘As the Lord lives who brought up the people of Israel out of the north country and out of all the countries where he had driven them.’ For I will bring them back to their own land that I gave to their fathers.” Jeremiah 16:14-15, ESV

 

This week as I read my Bible, sparks flew off the page. It happens once in a while. This time the ignition point was Jeremiah 16:14-15. You can turn there yourself, but have a fire extinguisher handy. Here’s the context. God is about to bring judgement upon Judah – severe, unrelenting, devastating judgement. God will employ the Babylonians to tear down His own city, demolish His temple and march His people as captives into a foreign land. The causes of such extreme measures are scattered throughout Jeremiah’s book; but hope is also planted by the prophetic voice. God’s judgment is not void of mercy. The Lord promises that He will bring His people back home. There is a dawn to this darkness.

That’s where the sparks flew. Israel used to boast of how God brought them out of the land of Egypt. The 10 plagues, Red Sea miracle, Sinai covenant – these were emblems of His great redemptive grace. But Jeremiah says Israel will change their boast. Instead of pointing to the exodus as the epitome of grace, they will speak of their return home from Babylon. The proof of His love is this: “God brought us back.” In other words, the mercy of restoration speaks louder than the mercy of redemption. So, you can understand the singe marks on my Bible.

We focus on our redemption as the unshakable demonstration of God’s love for us. The cross declares His grace, and I cling to it. To be rescued and forgiven – this is mercy! Of course, even redeemed people mess up. Forgiven people fail and need even more forgiveness. Followers wander, disciples disappoint and God’s children can rebel. So, when we have stormed out of the house, slammed the door and turned our face from God, is there a way back?

My own logic whispers that if I have willfully disregarded the grace of redemption, there’s not much chance for a welcome home. But God ignores my logic. He promises a grace of restoration. There is a reception of love for children who mess up. An open door and open arms to receive those with self-inflicted wounds. There is a place for the broken to be healed.

The story of His mercy in my life is not confined to a point of redemption, but a repeated mercy of restoration. In fact, this grace of restoration teaches me what the grace of redemption is all about. A love with no fine-print conditions. No expiration dates. No thin ice period of probation. It’s the mercy of restoration that proves the kindness of redemption. In a manner of thinking, it is better to be broken. To quote the lyrical theology of Mumford and Sons, “It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart- but the welcome I receive with each new start!” And the sparks jump off the page, landing in my chest. They flame into praise and gratitude.