Truth-Telling Is a Tough Gig (Just Ask Jeremiah)
Jeremiah 1-3 opens with a young man being chosen to deliver hard truths. He's not excited about the role. In fact, he pushes back. "O Sovereign Lord," he says, "I can’t speak for you! I’m too young!" (Jeremiah 1:6, NLT). It’s a moment that feels deeply human—the instinct to back away from something daunting, especially when it involves conflict or standing alone.
Mission: Improbable
What follows is not a pep talk, exactly, but a blunt commission. Jeremiah is told he will face resistance. The people won’t listen. His words will fall on deaf ears, and still he must speak. That idea—speaking into silence or even hostility—raises a difficult question: What does it mean to be someone who tells the truth when no one wants to hear it?
In modern life, the truth-teller isn’t always a prophet. Sometimes it’s a whistleblower, a journalist, a friend who brings up uncomfortable topics, or someone who questions groupthink in a meeting. Often, these roles are met with defensiveness or dismissal. It’s easier to ignore difficult messages than to change. Jeremiah’s job, it seems, is not to persuade but to persist.
No Applause, Just Endurance
One line that catches attention is in Jeremiah 1:19: "They will fight you, but they will fail. For I am with you, and I will take care of you." From a secular standpoint, this sounds like a message about resilience. There’s no promise of acceptance or success in the conventional sense. The reward is simply being upheld enough to continue. That might be what makes truth-telling so hard—not just the message, but the loneliness that can accompany it.
The early chapters also show the weight of Jeremiah’s message. He isn’t just confronting individuals; he's challenging systems, behaviors, and national identity. He speaks of betrayal, injustice, and broken trust. The imagery is intense. At times, it feels like the voice of someone who is both furious and heartbroken. Can those two emotions coexist in someone who cares deeply? Jeremiah suggests they can.
Not a Feel-Good Story
There’s something in this story that touches on the emotional cost of conviction. It’s easy to admire integrity in theory. But in practice, it can feel isolating. Jeremiah doesn’t get applause. He gets ignored, mocked, and later imprisoned. His story isn’t clean or triumphant. But it is consistent. He keeps going.
I wonder how often people hold back out of fear of being that lone voice. And I wonder how many do speak, even when they know it won’t change anything right away. I see the value in noticing those voices—past and present—that are willing to speak, even when the room goes quiet.