The prophet's words about vengeance on his enemies may seem an example of what is sometimes called "Old Testament vindictiveness." Yet Jeremiah has no intention of taking revenge. He merely hands his whole situation, completely and entirely, into God's hands. He understands perfectly: the work entrusted to him by God is not his work, but God's work. And he himself, Jeremiah, is only an instrument in this work, an executor from whom neither an assessment of the people involved nor, still less, punishment or vengeance upon them is required. The prophet must simply do his work: go where God sends him, say what He has instructed him to say, and leave the rest to Him.

But there are people around who hinder Jeremiah from doing God's work. This is an objective reality. One may treat the people who hinder him in any way one likes, but objectively they are enemies of God. This is not vindictiveness and not hatred; it is a simple statement of an obvious fact. It would be foolish to ignore the obvious, and the prophet does not try to do so: he turns to God for resolution of the situation.

His words about enemies are not evidence of hatred or a desire for vengeance in the human sense in which they are often interpreted. For God's vengeance is not like human vengeance, just as God's punishment is not human punishment. Human punishment is a sanction for violating a norm; human vengeance is evidence of triumph over an enemy. God's punishment, however, is only the triumph of His love over human sinfulness and the pain caused by sin that seeks to prevent this triumph; God's vengeance is the triumph of His will over those who oppose it and the fulfillment of His plans despite His opponents. It is not a desire to humiliate or suppress an enemy for the sake of His own triumph: God has no need to affirm Himself at the expense of a defeated opponent. He simply puts everything in its place, including those who oppose Him.

But God does not want their destruction. He wants these people to turn and receive the fullness of life that He can give them. And this desire of His becomes vengeance only for those who reject it. But that is no longer God's vengeance - it is a human choice.

Before us is an important testimony from the prophet about himself, through which we can touch how he experiences his ministry from within, what a person overfilled with revelation goes through. We see that Jeremiah says not what he would like to say: the words that mysteriously come to him do not always correspond to how, according to his human understanding, he understands the situation. But he is powerless to hold back the stream of revelation, and even when Jeremiah tries to keep silent, the prophecy proves stronger than customary conventions and breaks them as easily as a powerful typhoon crushes dams that had seemed strong.

But faithfulness to the Lord and readiness to become His mouth give the prophet authority: not the authority possessed by earthly kings and other rulers, but the authority that makes it possible to remain inwardly free even in chains. Yes, Jeremiah speaks with authority, even if none of the people acknowledge it: the very fact that after his release Jeremiah gives a new name to the priest who punished him is a sign of authority, since the right to give a name always belonged to the master. But this authority is not human in character: it is the consequence of sharing in the Source of truth.

The question of the meaninglessness of a life already lived has tormented many people, and at very different ages. Jeremiah, as we see, was no exception: the question of the meaning of his own life arose before him too. It would seem that a person whom God called to ministry, and called with the complete certainty that distinguishes every genuine prophetic calling, has no need to doubt or regret anything, since his ministry by definition cannot turn out to be meaningless.

And yet, as we see, the matter was not so simple; besides God, there were also the people to whom the prophet addressed himself. The prophet's ministry is above all the ministry of a witness, and Jeremiah, as we see, evaluated the success of his ministry precisely from that point of view. And here things were bad: no one wanted to listen to the prophet; his preaching did not enjoy the kind of popularity that, for example, the preaching of his great predecessor Isaiah of Jerusalem enjoyed. Rather, he was in everyone's way: in the way of the authorities, whose religious policy Jeremiah did not accept; in the way of the crowd, whose imaginary religiosity he never tired of exposing; in the way of well-to-do townspeople, who wanted peace and confidence while the prophet's preaching constantly disturbed their peace and undermined their confidence. No authority, no popularity, only hatred and hostility! But the most tormenting thing for Jeremiah was that he apparently perceived this state of affairs as the failure of the mission entrusted to him by God.

And what could have served as consolation for a prophet whose witness was rejected? Perhaps only one thing: prophetic ministry, like every other service to God, has value in itself. The issue is not only who heard what, but also who said what. And Jeremiah clearly accomplished this task. Despite all the efforts of the people around him.