Jeremiah 4:23-29; Psalm 19: 1-9 Starry, Starry Night 9/16/18

The two readings today are in stark contrast: First we have Jeremiah, the
prophet that Sharyn Julcher lovingly calls the Eeyore of the Bible! Jeremiah points
up to the sky and proclaims there is no light, no birds – only desolation. God’s
message through the prophet is that the people disobeyed God’s law, so there are
consequences. Then the reading from Psalm 19 – the firmament (sky, heavens,
universe) proclaim God’s glory, even without words. The Sun comes out like a
newlywed. Even the law of God is a blessing, enlightening, true and righteous.
Let’s see… God of desolation? God of blessing? I’d go with the blessing God.
Poor Jeremiah; you have to feel sorry for him to be carrying this message. The
Covenant of God’s Law was re-discovered in the temple that was overtaken in the
war with Assyria. Once it was found, Jeremiah was compelled to preach from the
law and speak boldly about its expectations. This was an incredibly daunting task!
In the context of our history, it would be like this:
Imagine if, during the Civil War, the Constitution were hidden somewhere in
the capitol. After the war was over, the people were so relieved to be out of
danger, or were so depleted from being displaced, no one thought to look for it.
Imagine years of neglect of the Constitution, the rule of law, and the kind of
havoc and disarray that would result. Then imagine that a small group of people
found the constitution hidden away, and they took it upon themselves to re-teach
the citizens of the United States about what the founders of our country expected of
its people and its leaders. We can imagine the push-back, the blaming and the
growing pains of getting back to a place where things were in order again. These
people who rediscovered the Constitution would be in a terrible position – they
would have to wear two hats at the same time:

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 One hat for warning the people the further danger they would be in if they
continued down the road of lawlessness, and the other hat for encouraging the
people to follow the guidelines and to reap the benefit of living together in a
community with a structure designed for the good of all.
This was Jeremiah’s dilemma. He had to raise the flag to warn the people of
further desolation and loss of light if they insisted on functioning as a people
without the moral undergirding of God’s law, while at the same time try to instill
hope that God will not put a period to end their earthly lives, and will restore them
to the land that they lost in the war against Assyria. Jeremiah was the mouthpiece
of the divine parent who is constantly challenged to put limits on the children for
their own good, and to inspire their growth, experimentation and individuality all at
the same time. Jeremiah is holding all of these realities in tension.
Now, at the risk of getting a song stuck in your head for the rest of the
weekend, I am turning to Don McLean’s song about Vincent VanGogh, that we most
often call, Starry, Starry Night. The song melds together the realities of VanGogh’s
life as a way of expressing the truth of life for all of us – lives that are lived in
tension. The song opens with this image:
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul1
McLean sets us up from the start – a starry night, a painter’s palette and a summer
day – and then he brings in our common reality: With eyes that know the darkness

1 Songwriter: Don McLean “Vincent” (Starry, Starry Night) lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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in my soul. The song honors the complex life of Vincent VanGogh, who lived in a
context of the love of family, vast artistic talent, deep faith and devastating mental
illness that led to his death. Like Psalm 19, the song points us to how VanGogh’s
painting speaks without words to the end of the world, and touches both the sun
and the gloom in our souls. McLean, with his songwriting artistry, attributes to the
painter the ability to name and contain these inherent tensions of life. He writes:
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand2
The people of Jeremiah’s time, VanGogh’s time, McLean’s time, and you and I today
resonate with the mixed realities of the prophecies of despair and hope, and of
artistic renditions of pain and soothing. We are connected through time with this
common experience of humanity.
We often think of VanGogh as a tragic character. His illness and poverty led
to isolation and obscurity. However, in his own estimation, his existence was not
one of pure tragedy, but one that held promise. In one of his letters to his brother,
Vincent VanGogh reflects on the difficulty of his life that included depression, mania
and psychosis. In April of 1889, shortly before he was admitted to what was then
called an asylum, and just a few months before he painted Starry Night, he wrote:
What consoles me a little is that I’m beginning to consider madness as an
illness like any other, and accept the thing as it is, while during the actual crises it
seemed to me that everything I was imagining was reality….What moulting is to
birds, the time when they change their feathers, that’s adversity or misfortune, hard
times, for us human beings. One may remain in this period of moulting, one may

2 Songwriter: Don McLean “Vincent” (Starry, Starry Night) lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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also come out of it renewed, but it’s not to be done in public, however; it’s scarcely
entertaining, it’s not cheerful, so it’s a matter of making oneself scarce…
nevertheless, I’m not utterly without hope that little by little, slowly and surely, a
good understanding may be re-established with this person and that. 3
Crisis, moulting and illness are held in the same breath with consolation,
renewal and hope. I hear these tensions from many of you in our congregational
family. Whether the tension is one at home or in the workplace, in societal or
environmental arenas, or if the tension is experienced internally in our individual
hearts, minds and souls, it is clear that this is our reality. We will not experience the
luxury of living only in the glory of the Psalm, or the horror of an entire life of
desolation. Like the people of Israel, and the artist Vincent VanGogh, we at times
look up and see the sky is grey, and at times look up and see a clear, starry, starry
night.
In closing, I’d like to offer another excerpt from one of the artist’s letters to
his brother: I’m always inclined to believe that the best way of knowing God is to
love a great deal. Love that friend, that person, that thing, whatever you like, you’ll
be on the right path to knowing more thoroughly, afterwards; that’s what I say to
myself. But you must love with a high, serious intimate sympathy, with a will, with
intelligence, and you must always seek to know more thoroughly, better, and more.
That leads to God, that leads to unshakeable faith. June 18804

3
http://vangoghletters.org/vg/letters.html
4
http://vangoghletters.org/vg/letters.html.

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Jeremiah 4:23-29 I looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void; and to the
heavens, and they had no light. I looked on the mountains, and lo, they were
quaking, and all the hills moved to and fro. I looked, and lo, there was no one at all,
and all the birds of the air had fled. I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert,
and all its cities were laid in ruins before the Lord, before his fierce anger. For thus
says the Lord: The whole land shall be a desolation; yet I will not make a full
end. Because of this the earth shall mourn, and the heavens above grow black; for I
have spoken, I have purposed; I have not relented nor will I turn back. At the noise
of horseman and archer every town takes to flight; they enter thickets; they climb
among rocks; all the towns are forsaken, and no one lives in them.
Psalm 19
The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork.
Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
In the heavens God has set a tent for the sun,
which comes out like a newlywed from the wedding canopy,
and like a strong one runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens, and its circuit to the end of them;
and nothing is hid from its heat.
The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the Lord are sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear, enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure, enduring forever; the ordinances of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.

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Worn Out, Vincent VanGogh, 1882

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Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)
Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
Songwriter: Don McLean “Vincent” (Starry, Starry Night) lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group