In my day, Jeremiah was a bullfrog. So said the first line of a very hip and happening song: “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine,” and so on, until it reached the zenith, “Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, joy to the fishies in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me.” The words were colourful, the tune was bright, and as the song faded, you just couldn’t help but look at others with those “peace brother” eyes.

The Jeremiah that I read about this morning in the Book, was anything but a happy pond dweller. He was a prophet, grave and grim, and given one of the most difficult preaching assignments on earth. To speak to people who didn’t want to listen. People who were full of themselves and who shunned and shut down anyone who brought negativity to the table. And so Jeremiah’s ministry was marked by warm scoldings and cold shoulders.

Ironically, in Jeremiah’s neighbourhood, there were plenty of people giving peace signs and saying “Peace brother”. But it wasn’t the hippies. It was the religious teachers and those who controlled the temple and those who should have recognised a true prophet of God. But they pushed Jeremiah to the limit, and exhausted the patience of God, and suffered for their vanity and pride. But through it all, Jeremiah stayed the course, and kept the faith, and will one day sing of real joy in a new world.