Jeremiah's preoccupation with the heart as the source of conduct, his change of the centre of gravity from the outward to the inward, forced him into such an individualism in his conception of sin as we find in his portrayal of the moral and spiritual ideal in his doctrine of the New Covenant.
1. Jeremiah's prophecy, everywhere aiming at a spiritualizing and deepening of the Church's relation to God, here reaches its climax, where in one word the termination of the entire economy of the Old Covenant is announced. The prophet foresees a “New Covenant,” by which the one resting on the fundamental fact of the Exodus from Egypt and announced in the lawgiving on Sinai is “made old.” Thus the Kingdom of God is built anew from the very ground.
There is much reason for supposing that it was in his time of seclusion that Jeremiah's eyes were opened to see a spiritual truth which was far in advance of any contemporary revelation, and was destined to become the mould into which some of the richest ore of gospel truth should be poured. It was not the last time when mortal eyes were closed in order to see; shielded from the glare of this world that they might behold the light that never was on sea or land. The blind Milton sang of Paradise lost and regained.1 [Note: F. B. Meyer.]
2. For the first time in prophecy, the heart comes into prominence. It is the heart that is good or ill. “Cast your idols of gold and your idols of silver to the moles and to the bats,” cried Isaiah. “Cast your ark of the covenant, your temple made with hands, your holy sacrifices, your sacred utensils and machinery-cast them all into the same dust-hole,” cried Jeremiah. “In those days, saith the Lord, they shall say no more, The ark of the covenant of the Lord; neither shall it come to mind: neither shall they remember it.” “He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.” “I will make a new covenant with them, saith the Lord, I will write my law upon their hearts.” Jeremiah is the prophet, not of reform, but of revolution; the preacher of a new régime-but the new régime is the New Covenant.
Luther once visited a dying student; for to him it was common to have resort in cases of difficulty or extremity. The good doctor and professor asked the young man what he should take to God, in whose presence he was shortly to appear. The young man replied, “Everything that is good, dear father-everything that is good!” Luther, rather surprised, said, “But how can you bring Him everything that is good, seeing you are but a poor sinner?” The pious youth replied, “Dear father, I will take to my God in heaven a penitent, humble heart, sprinkled with the blood of Christ.” “Truly,” said Luther, “this is everything good. Then go, dear son; you will be a welcome guest to God.”
3. It is clear that if God gave to each a heart to know Him, no need would any longer exist for one to exhort another to acquaint himself with God. All would know Him from the least to the greatest. The relation of God to the individual would be immediate and direct, independent of the State or official order of religious teachers. It would nevertheless be a mistake to interpret Jeremiah as the prophet of an atomistic individualism. An individualist he was, and that in full measure. But the New Covenant itself is made with the nation. The religion remains the religion of Israel, a national religion. God and Israel are still the contracting parties to the New Covenant as to the Old. But the individualism which characterized the New made the religion national in a sense unattainable under the Old. For when the religion rested on external guarantees and was expressed in external institutions, while its laws were imposed by an external authority, when moreover the nation was contemplated as a unit, without reference to the individuals of whom it was composed, then it was national, but in a general and superficial sense. Only when every individual in the mass is renewed in heart, and his will is brought into harmony with the Divine will, can the nation itself be truly called religious. Through its individualism the religion first became national in the full sense of the term.
Here then Jeremiah anticipates Christianity more clearly than any other Old Testament prophet. Jesus Himself accepts his idea of the New Covenant, and embodies it in His solemn utterance at the Last Supper-“This is the cup of the new covenant in my blood”-together with the saying about the bread, the best authenticated of all our Lord's utterances, since it is recorded by St. Paul as well as the three Synoptic writers. But more important by far than the mere adoption of the symbol is the realization of the essential idea of Jeremiah's New Covenant by Jesus Christ. What is more characteristic of Christianity in contrast with Judaism than the inwardness of the one compared with the externalism of the other? The Jews washed the outside of the cup and platter; Jesus the inside. They bathed their bodies as a ceremonial ablution; Jesus cleansed the heart. So while they had rules of casuistry, Jesus infused inner principles of life-love to God and love to man. Thus they who follow Christ have God's law of love written on their hearts, and learn to live from within outward. Such a life is necessarily individualistic, centred in “the abysmal depth of personality.” Jeremiah writes, “And they shall teach no more every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for they shall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the Lord: for I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin will I remember no more.” This is realized in Christianity. While Judaism is a national faith, Christianity is a personal religion. And, finally, while the Jews could not find ease of conscience in their religion, Christ could say: “The Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins.”
Samuel Wesley's sudden death in November 1739 was the heaviest blow which could have fallen upon his widowed mother. He had always been her favourite son-he shared her most intimate thoughts-and even in a pecuniary sense the loss of his support would be very great. She was ill at the time, having been confined to her room for ten weeks. Yet once again her children were surprised by the way in which she was “strengthened to bear” this new calamity: “I did immediately acquiesce in the will of God, without the least reluctance.” Perhaps the comfort which had come to her a few weeks before in her spiritual life accounted in some measure for the calm which she now showed. This experience marked the hour when she was completely won over to her son John's doctrine, and is best told in his own words: “I talked largely with my mother, who told me that till a short time since, she had scarce heard such a thing mentioned as the having forgiveness of sins now, or God's Spirit bearing witness with our spirit: much less did she imagine that this was the common privilege of all true believers. ‘Therefore,' said she, ‘I never durst ask it for myself. But two or three weeks ago, while my son Hall (Patty's husband) was pronouncing those words in delivering the cup to me, “The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee,” the words struck through my heart, and I knew God for Christ's sake had forgiven me all my sins.' ”1 [Note: M. R. Brailsford, Susanna Wesley, 119.]
