Jeremiah 10:12
[Disclaimer: I was a scarecrow once. Halloween, early 70s. I was probably 4 or 5. Mom dressed me up. Adults all told me I looked adorable. Oversized overalls, burlap and hay-like stuffing poking out everywhere … I remember the costume itched like crazy.]
I have seen a few of real scarecrows over the years.
Some are rather impressive. Others look like somebody stuffed a oversized old jeans and a flannel shirt with yesterday’s laundry and stuck it on a pole. The idea is that birds will mistake them for people and stay away from whatever is growing nearby.
Of course, the scarecrow doesn’t actually do anything. It just stands there, looking important. It can’t see approaching danger, warn anybody about it, or chase away a particularly determined crow. If it falls over, somebody has to pick it up.
Which makes Jeremiah’s description of the false gods of his day wonderfully amusing.
“Like a scarecrow in a cucumber field, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk” (Jeremiah 10:5).
A scarecrow in a cucumber field. I love that picture. But there’s something considerably more serious behind Jeremiah’s humor.
When Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart
Jeremiah lived during a frightening chapter in Israel’s history. The kingdom of Judah was facing the growing threat of Babylon. Political uncertainty, cultural upheaval, spiritual confusion, and the prospect of devastating conflict surrounded God’s people.
In other words, their world was falling apart.
And in the middle of all that uncertainty, people were looking for something they could depend on. Something that promised security, protection, prosperity, or control over circumstances that seemed increasingly beyond their control.
Sound familiar?
The surrounding nations had plenty of options. Their craftsmen fashioned gods from wood, decorated them with silver and gold, and secured them so they wouldn’t topple over. People looked to these objects for help, guidance, and protection.
Jeremiah saw the absurdity. These supposedly powerful gods couldn’t speak, walk, or even stand upright without somebody’s assistance. They had to be carried by the very people who depended upon them.
And yet people trusted them.
The saddest part wasn’t that these idols were powerless. It was that people were placing their hope in something that could never deliver what they desperately needed.
Our Modern Scarecrows
Now, I don’t know many people who carve a piece of wood, cover it with precious metals, and bow before it. We tend to think of idolatry as something belonging to ancient civilizations or unfamiliar religious traditions.
We’ve become more sophisticated in the things we trust.
We look to money for security, accomplishments for significance, relationships for identity, and possessions for satisfaction. We turn to experts, influencers, political leaders, and the endless stream of opinions competing for our attention, hoping somebody can explain what’s happening and tell us what to do next.
None of these things is necessarily wrong. Financial responsibility is wise. Relationships are gifts. Accomplishments can be meaningful. Good advice can be invaluable.
But trouble begins when we ask these things to become something they were never meant to be.
We expect them to provide the peace, purpose, security, and lasting hope that only God can give. And when they fail us, as inevitably they sometimes will, we go searching for another. Another answer. Another purchase. Another relationship. Another promise. Another voice telling us that this time we’ve found the secret to making everything right.
It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Especially when life is already difficult.
But God
After describing the lifeless idols and the foolishness of trusting them, Jeremiah introduces a magnificent contrast.
“But God made the earth by his power; he founded the world by his wisdom and stretched out the heavens by his understanding” (Jeremiah 10:12).
There it is. That wonderful little word. But. And better still, But God.
The idols were made by human hands. But God made the earth.
The idols had to be secured so they wouldn’t fall over. But God established the world by His wisdom.
The idols couldn’t speak, move, or exercise any power of their own. But God stretched out the heavens by His understanding.
Jeremiah’s point is breathtakingly simple. Why place our ultimate trust in something we have created when we can trust the One who created everything?
And Jeremiah doesn’t stop with creation. In the very next verse, he describes God commanding the waters, raising clouds, sending lightning with the rain, and bringing the wind from His storehouses.
The God who made the world is still at work within it. He’s not a decorative figure standing motionless in a field. He’s the living God, the Creator and Sustainer of all things.
And He hasn’t abandoned His creation.
The God Who Sees Our Brokenness
I think this matters especially when our own lives feel broken.
It’s easy to talk about trusting God when things are going well. It’s considerably harder when we’re frightened, disappointed, grieving, or struggling to make sense of circumstances we never imagined facing.
In those moments, the promises of our modern scarecrows can become particularly appealing. We want something tangible. Something immediate. Something that makes us feel as though we’re back in control.
But none of those things satisfy our soul’s ultimate need.
The same God who fashioned the universe knows the details of our lives. The One who stretched out the heavens isn’t confused by our circumstances, intimidated by our difficulties, or surprised by our failures.
We may not understand what He’s doing. We may not see a clear path forward. And trusting Him doesn’t guarantee that tomorrow will be easier than today. But it does mean our hope rests in Someone greater than the circumstances surrounding us.
Perhaps that’s the invitation hidden in Jeremiah’s remarkable little but.
Not to reject every good thing the world offers, but to remember the difference between the gifts and the Giver. Between the resources that help us navigate life and the God who gives life itself. To look beyond the endless noise, competing promises, and impressive-looking scarecrows that fill our fields of vision and remember who’s really holding the world together.And perhaps, when our own world seems to be coming apart, we can find a measure of peace in remembering that the God who created the heavens and the earth hasn’t lost sight of us.
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