Oh, what it would have been for those in exile to hear the words of God’s promise through Jeremiah?

For those who remembered Zion from afar as they sat and wept by the rivers of Babylon (Ps. 137:1), what hope must have been theirs as they heard the prophet declare God’s intention to gather to Himself “scattered Israel” and that God Himself would keep them “as a shepherd keeps his flock” (Jer. 31:10). What strength would have been found in in the promise that their redemption was coming and that they would be brought home to “sing aloud on the height of Zion”, their joy radiating over the abundance of the land they had been promised. To anticipate, though currently in the thirst-inducing land of their enemies, being brought to a place where they would “languish no more”, where “their life would be like a watered garden” (Jer. 31:12).

Seems to me there’s some connection there for us current day exiles — for us who are in the world but not of the world and are looking forward to a city whose designer and builder is God (Heb. 11:10).

And yet, while we wait for a kingdom to come, we know that the kingdom has come. We live in the “now but not yet” reality of not just longing for home but of also experiencing home as, through our union with Christ, we are seated with Him in heavenly places (Eph. 2:6). Thus, we find ourselves not only singing the blues by the waters of Babylon but also singing with joy on the height of Zion. And that because, even now, we have known the goodness of God.

I will turn their mourning into joy;
       I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.
I will feast the soul of the priests with abundance,
       and My people shall be satisfied with My goodness.

(Jeremiah 31:13b-14 ESV)

In the day of their return, the ancient exiles of the clans of Israel would declare the goodness of God “over the grain, the wine, and the oil, and over the young of the flock and the herd” (Jer. 31:12). They would sing over the abundance of God’s physical provision. But for us as today’s exiles, for us as God’s holy and royal priesthood (1Peter 2:5, 9), there is a feasting of the soul by which our mourning is turned, even now, to joy. A saturating of the inner being which comforts and displaces sorrow with gladness. So that, even in a foreign land, even though we are not home yet, My people shall be satisfied with My goodness.

My people shall be satisfied with My goodness . . . that’s what I’m chewing on this morning.

The goodness of God. Not found in our stuff but experienced in our soul. Not because we’ve never sinned, but because He is the forever Savior. Not because we’ve never known the collateral damage of sin, but because we’ve also known a grace greater than sin. Not because we have been faithful, but because God is faithful.

And so, I will sing of the goodness of God. (You can too by clicking here)

By His grace. For His glory.