September 21 Sunday Sermon Manuscript

My Heart is Sick and Faint

Jeremiah 8:19–9:1

1. Introduction – Connection with Last Week's Message

Last week, through the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin, we explored God's relentless pursuit of us. We affirmed that God never gives up—He seeks us to the very end.

But this truth shouldn't remain merely as gracious comfort. If we truly understand that God seeks and searches for us with such urgency, then we too must actively pursue what has been lost in our own lives—lost hope, lost dreams, broken relationships, wavering faith. We must reach out to those who desperately need to know God's love. With the same passion that God seeks us, we must move forward boldly in life.

Yet as we turn to today's passage in Jeremiah, we encounter a puzzling reality. Though God earnestly seeks us, we sometimes experience what feels like His absence. Not that God is truly absent, but when sudden hardships crash into our lives—when the pain becomes overwhelming and the struggles feel unbearable—God can seem distant, even absent.

2. Moments When We Feel God's Absence in Daily Life

These experiences often come in the most ordinary, even trivial moments. We've all had times when we've sighed in frustration, "Why does this always happen to me?"

Just last week, our toilet got clogged. At the same time, the water control mechanism broke down. Unaware of this double trouble, I flushed the toilet and went to take a shower. When I opened the shower curtain afterward—Oh my goodness!—water was cascading like a waterfall, flooding the entire downstairs.

I rushed downstairs, grabbed the plunger, unclogged the drain, stopped the flooding, mopped, cleaned, and scrubbed for hours. As I worked, this thought kept running through my mind: "Seriously? One problem wasn't enough—now there's two, three things going wrong at once!" By the time I finished disinfecting everything with bleach, my frustration had reached its peak.

In moments like these, we find ourselves saying, "Why me? Why only me?"

To be honest, our church relocation has been filled with unexpected challenges too. When we tried to sell our Oakland church building, we encountered someone who filed a frivolous lawsuit to block the sale—a lis pendens claiming we had violated a contract. Yet we had done absolutely nothing wrong.

Because I had been the primary contact, I had to undergo forensic extraction of my phone for evidence. I'd only heard about such procedures on the news, but suddenly I was living it. The process wasn't simple—it took three days of remote work, with the final day stretching nearly seven hours.

During that ordeal, I couldn't help thinking, "Other pastors seem to minister in peace. Why do I have so many complications? Why do these things keep happening?"

These thoughts lead us to discouragement, disappointment, even anger. We feel singled out for hardship. If God has sought us so earnestly, why not grant us smooth sailing? Why allow such difficulties? Sometimes we might even think, "Maybe it would be better if You hadn't found me at all."

3. The Lament and Context of Jeremiah, the Weeping Prophet

Jeremiah seems to have grappled with these very questions centuries ago. Known as the "weeping prophet," he possessed profound spiritual insight.

Remember when young Jeremiah first received God's call. He protested, "Ah, Sovereign Lord, I do not know how to speak; I am too young." He made excuses about his age and inexperience, trying to escape the calling. God responded with this promise: "Do not say, 'I am too young.' You must go to everyone I send you to... for I am with you and will rescue you."

Yet ironically, Jeremiah became the most persecuted prophet in the Old Testament. He ministered during a deceptive period of peace in Judah—after Assyria's fall, as Babylon was rising to power, when Syria's defeat temporarily removed threats from the southern kingdom.

The high priest Pashhur was telling everyone, "Peace, peace"—offering false reassurance much like we hear today. People crowded the temple, and Pashhur kept saying, "Everything's fine, everything's fine." But Jeremiah courageously called for repentance in this climate of complacency.

Pashhur's response? He had Jeremiah put in stocks in the temple courtyard. Not only was the punishment unjust, but the public humiliation was devastating. Yet Jeremiah endured this shame and continued proclaiming God's word. This is why he became the prophet who lamented and prayed to God more than any other.

Jeremiah's laments may sound like complaints against God, but they were actually expressions of deep faith. True lament isn't mere complaining—it's crying out to God in pain while still trusting Him, still believing He cares.

Through his laments, Jeremiah discovered something profound: God is always present, suffering alongside us, weeping with us, sharing our grief.

When Israel was dragged into Babylonian exile with no hope of restoration in sight, Jeremiah boldly confronted God: "Why isn't anything changing?"

He proclaimed both pain and hope with raw honesty, challenging Israel for expecting change without effort—continuing idol worship, remaining unchanged. Jeremiah identified the core problem: doing nothing, making no effort, harboring no dreams of transformation, yet expecting God's blessing to simply fall from heaven.

God was right there weeping alongside them, but Israel ignored Him and lived according to their own desires.

In verse 8:21, Jeremiah declares: "Since my people are crushed, I am crushed; I mourn, and horror grips me." And in 9:1: "Oh, that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears! I would weep day and night for the slain of my people."

Jeremiah's tears weren't merely personal emotions—they revealed God's own heart. God wasn't standing at a distance saying, "You sinned, so you deserve this." Instead, He was sharing His people's wounds, weeping alongside them.

4. The Deep Realization: God Weeps With Us

Today, when we face difficulties large and small, we often think, "Why me?" Discouragement, sadness, and hardship feel natural and inevitable. And sometimes, we sense God's absence.

These feelings lead to disappointment, frustration, even anger—as if we alone are bearing life's burdens.

But Jeremiah discovered something life-changing: God walks with us through tears. Whether we perceive His nearness depends largely on how we choose to think and where we fix our hearts.

When our hearts are sick and faint, burdened with sorrow, life rarely feels completely good. Yet even in these moments, God accompanies us with His own tears.

We typically expect God to reach down and remove whatever causes our distress. But that's not how God operates. Instead, He suffers alongside us.

This reveals God's way of being with us. Rather than using overwhelming power to shield us from all hardship or guarantee our success, He chooses to weep with us, even to suffer with us, as He walks alongside us. This is how God demonstrates His presence.

Here we discover something profound: God works through us. His activity in the world often depends on how we set our hearts and choose our direction.

When we find the strength to wipe away tears, embrace hope, and work toward something new, God brings it to fruition. This is His method of operation.

Perhaps suffering is when our weaknesses become fully exposed. We all have trigger points—our most vulnerable spots. What devastates one person might barely affect another. So much depends on our perspective and emotional response.

God desires to strengthen our weak places. Meanwhile, He walks with us constantly, weeping when we weep, rejoicing when we rejoice. This is Jeremiah's testimony.

This shows us what faith truly means. Faith isn't wishing for problems to disappear. Faith is knowing that God remains with us even in our problems—that He shares our pain, uses it to mature us, and can be trusted in His way of working.

5. Conclusion – God Who Suffers With Us, and Our Response

This passage doesn't explicitly promise, "You will recover" or "You will survive." Yet it offers us profound hope.

As I mentioned last week, God never stops seeking us. He stands beside us, weeping when we suffer.

We expect Him to fix everything with His mighty hand. Instead, He laughs with us and weeps with us, feeling every pain we experience.

Even when our hearts are sick and faint, God shares that same affliction.

Dear friends, here's what we must remember from today's message:

God is not a distant observer of our pain. He suffers with us and weeps with us. When we cry out, "Why does this happen only to me?" God is crying out alongside us.

Our hope doesn't rest in immediate solutions. Our hope lies in knowing that even in our deepest pain, God never abandons us. He walks with us, shedding tears by our side.

And this reality gives us new strength. If God suffers with us, then we can accomplish something meaningful through our suffering. If God works within us and through us, then our tears and efforts are never wasted.

Let today's message move beyond mere comfort to concrete action. On September 27th, the Mannam Choir will perform at our church. They consistently perform to support missions, and we've decided to support Nepal—the mission field I shared about in a previous sermon.

When people asked how much we should contribute, my heart settled on $3,000. Yes, it's substantial money—not a small amount. Some of you have worried about our church finances being tight, and here I am proposing another missions offering. Some might wonder if this is wise timing.

But this isn't simply about helping acquaintances in ministry. When I first heard about young Jina Park, my heart broke. I had once visited Nepal with children, and I could picture that harsh landscape where a vibrant young woman suddenly died. I imagined how the church community must have been shocked and grieved, how the parents who had sent their daughter abroad to study must have felt receiving that devastating news.

It's a heartbreaking story. Questions like "Why our church? Why our daughter?" would be completely natural. Even "Is God really there?" would be understandable.

Yet this church and this family chose to interpret this tragedy as part of God's new covenant, His continued companionship with them. From their grief was born Jina School. It's nothing short of miraculous.

If someone asks me, "Why do you believe in Jesus?" I'll tell them this story. God walks alongside us—He rejoices with us, grieves with us, suffers with us. When our hearts are sick and faint, when we don't know what to do, God is right there with the same heart, close to us.

This is why we can write new stories. Death and sorrow could have ended in bitterness and blame. Instead, by setting aside resentment and continuing to seek the God who walks with us, they accomplished something extraordinary. The fact that we can contribute even a small part to this story is itself miraculous.

I feel overwhelmed with gratitude to God for giving us this inspiration. Even if we don't reach the full $3,000, the amount isn't what matters. What matters is that we don't turn away but instead join our hearts together.

On the same day, we'll gather earlier for our second Dinner Church meeting, preparing for our English worship service. In this second gathering, we'll welcome new ministry partners and expand our mission outreach together.

I firmly believe God is walking closely with us, guiding every step. Sometimes we might mistake our plans working out for our own wisdom. But this is God's work, and we simply do our best to serve Him.

Therefore, even when our hearts are sick and faint, we are never alone. God suffers with us, holding us firmly, and through our struggles He is creating something new.

As last week's message reminded us, let us pursue our lost hopes with the same urgency with which God pursues us. Let us reclaim our abandoned dreams and walk new paths alongside Him.

Please join us in prayer, invite others if you're able, and together let's demonstrate how God walks closely with us. Let us commit ourselves, work diligently, and find strength for this calling!

The God who weeps with us is walking alongside you.