Sermon – So Let it be Written…

(The sermon is based off of Jeremiah 36:1-8; 21-23, 27-31)

You may remember that iconic moment in The Ten Commandments when Yul Brynner as Pharaoh declares:
“So let it be written, so let it be done.”

His word is law. No debate. No dissent.

But God has a word too.

And when God speaks, things change. Not just spiritually, but socially. Economically. Politically. That’s what’s happening in Jeremiah 36. The prophet speaks a word from the Lord—a scroll is written and read aloud—and King Jehoiakim is so shaken that he cuts it up and burns it. Not because he didn’t understand it, but because he did.

And here’s the truth: this has always been the danger—and the power—of Scripture. As Richard Rohr points out in this morning’s daily meditation, the Bible tells the story from the perspective of those at the bottom. The oppressed. The conquered. The abused. The enslaved. The exiled. And it consistently shows how God is on their side—not the side of the powerful, the privileged, the oppressor, or the abuser.

That has real-world consequences.

To take Scripture seriously is to be confronted with the reality that God does not bless empire. God delivers from it. That God is not a mascot for the powerful, but the advocate of the poor.

And that’s dangerous to those who want to keep things exactly as they are.

Let’s be clear: this passage—and much of Scripture—is political.

That word makes some folks nervous, so let’s talk about it.

“Political” doesn’t mean “Democrat” or “Republican.” That would be partisan.  Partisan and political are not the same thing.  Political doesn’t mean “left” or “right” either.
Politics is about how we live together. How power is distributed. Who is seen and who is invisible. Who has voice, and who is silenced.

God’s Word is political because it speaks to all of that. It speaks to real life—to kings, queens and rulers, judges and prisoners, landowners and laborers, exiles and insiders, rich and poor.

When people say, “I don’t want sermons to be political,” often what they mean is, “I don’t want to be made uncomfortable.”
But the Word of God has always challenged the status quo. The prophets didn’t get in trouble for being vague or nice. They got in trouble because they said things like:

• “Woe to those who make unjust laws” (Isaiah 10:1)
• “Let justice roll down like waters” (Amos 5:24)
• “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me to bring good news to the poor” (Isaiah 61, echoed in Luke 4)

This is God’s politics—a politics of liberation, restoration, and equity.

And some people find that threatening.

Russell Moore, a prominent evangelical leader, recently told the media that pastors have shared with him that when they preach the Beatitudes—“Blessed are the meek… Blessed are the peacemakers…”—some congregants accuse them of being too woke.

Think about that: the very words of Jesus are considered too controversial, too political, too challenging—because they lift up the lowly and bring down the mighty.

We saw this too when Bishop Mariann Budde of Washington, D.C., preached a message calling for mercy—mercy for immigrants, mercy for LGBTQ+ folks, mercy for all who are afraid and hurting. And for that sermon—just mercy!—she received death threats. Not because she was unfaithful to the gospel, but because she was faithful.

Sometimes it’s not the prophets who have changed, but our ears that no longer want to hear.

Jehoiakim isn’t the only one who tried to edit or control God’s Word. Here’s a few quick historical examples:

1. The Slave Bible
In the early 1800s, enslaved Africans were given a Bible with major sections removed—especially the Exodus story.
No “Let my people go.”
No “There is neither slave nor free in Christ.”

The goal? To control, pacify, and strip the Word of its power to liberate.
But it didn’t work.
Because the Word still found its way into hearts and songs—spirituals like “Go Down, Moses.”

2. Thomas Jefferson’s Bible
Jefferson famously cut out miracles and all references to Jesus’ divinity. He wanted Jesus as moral philosopher, not Messiah.

It’s a temptation we all face: to edit the Word until it only says what we want to hear.

3. Nazi Germany
The Nazi regime created a “Positive Christianity” that removed the Old Testament and distorted Jesus into a nationalistic figure.

But the Confessing Church, and voices like Bonhoeffer, held to the true gospel. The Word endured.

4. Modern Authoritarianism
Even today, Bibles are banned or censored in some countries. Sermons are state-approved. But still, the Word persists. Underground churches memorize it. Whisper it. Live it.

You can burn the scroll. You can tear out the pages. But the Word lives.

This isn’t just a Jeremiah issue—it’s the arc of Scripture.

• Isaiah: “Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed…” (1:17)
• Isaiah 58: “Loose the bonds of injustice… let the oppressed go free…”
• Mary in Luke 1: “He has brought down the powerful… lifted up the lowly…”

It’s the same message from Genesis to Revelation:
God’s Word transforms. It resurrects. It confronts unjust systems and builds a new creation.

And it still confronts today.

Recently, I saw a meme quoting Leviticus: “You shall love the stranger as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

The comments underneath? They said things like, “But only if they enter the country legally.”

We forget. We forget that we have violated every treaty with Indigenous peoples in this land. We confiscated land. We drew and redrew borders. And now we want to draw lines Scripture doesn’t.

There’s no asterisk in God’s Word: “Welcome the stranger… unless it’s politically inconvenient.”

Maybe—just maybe—our fear is that those who are coming to us might do to us what our forebears did to others. Maybe we fear that the justice we are called to will cost us something.

God’s Word doesn’t fit easily into our partisan categories. And that’s exactly the point.

In the movie The Book of Eli, the world has burned. Civilization collapsed. And one man—Eli—is carrying the last Bible.

A tyrant hunts him—not to read it for truth, but to use it to control people. He knows the power of Scripture. He wants to weaponize it.

But Eli refuses. He has memorized the entire Bible. He protects it. He won’t let it be twisted.

When the tyrant finally gets the book—it’s in braille. He can’t read it. The Word is protected.

Because the true Word of God can’t be co-opted.

It’s not about domination—it’s about redemption.
It’s not about control—it’s about transformation.

Jehoiakim tried to burn it.
Slaveholders tried to rewrite it.
Empires tried to ban it.
Tyrants tried to twist it.
But the Word of the Lord endures forever.

God’s Word is fireproof.
And more than that—it is resurrection power.

• It raises the poor.
• It humbles the proud.
• It feeds the hungry.
• It opens prison doors.
• It rolls stones away.
• It dares to say: “Behold, I make all things new.”

So what do we do with a Word this powerful?
We read it—yes. But we also let it read us.
We carry it not just in our hands, but in our hearts.
We speak it aloud when the world tells us to stay quiet.
We live it boldly when others settle for comfort.

Let us be scrolls—living scrolls—who carry the Word into the world.
Into jails and hospitals.
Onto the street corners.
Into boardrooms and broken homes.
Into anywhere that needs hope.

So let it be written.
But more importantly…
Let it be lived.