I have to admit something: I never really studied Jeremiah until I watched Rabbi Tuly Weiszās new course on Bible Plus. I thought I knew him, the āweeping prophet,ā the author of Lamentations, the voice we hear every Tisha BāAv, the 9th of Av (when we remember the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem). But sitting down to follow Jeremiahās story with Rabbi Weisz guiding the way, I was struck by how much more there is. Jeremiahās words are not only about grief; they are about a stubborn hope that refuses to die even in exile. He does not only predict destruction, he insists on redemption.
That leads to the question at the heart of Jeremiahās book: How do you hold on to faith when the world around you is collapsing?
Jeremiah, or Yirmiyahu, was born in Anatot just outside Jerusalem to a family of priests. God called him as a young man during the reign of King Josiah, Judahās last righteous ruler. His mission lasted forty years, stretching through Josiahās reforms, Egyptās interference, and finally Babylonās crushing siege.
From the very beginning, Jeremiah sensed the loneliness of his task. God commanded him not to marry or have children, a sign of the looming destruction of the next generation. His was a life of warnings, of pleading, of rejection. Kings burned his scrolls, nobles threw him into prison, and neighbors whispered that he was a traitor. But Jeremiah never abandoned his calling. He told Judah the truth they did not want to hear: rebellion against Babylon was national suicide. He urged surrender, not because he lacked love for his people, but because he loved them too much to lie.
One of Jeremiahās most famous prophecies still rings with clarity today:
These words were written not to a triumphant people in their land, but to exiles in Babylon. Jeremiah told them to build houses, plant gardens, marry, raise children, and seek the peace of the city where they had been sent. The exile, he said, would last seventy years but it would end.
This balance of warning and comfort, justice and mercy, is Jeremiahās hallmark. He announces Godās judgment with searing honesty, but he also insists that the covenant is eternal. Even in exile, Godās people are never abandoned.
One of the moments Rabbi Weisz highlighted, which stayed with me, is Jeremiahās purchase of a field at Anatot in chapter 32. While imprisoned in Jerusalem during Babylonās siege, Jeremiah is told by God to buy land from his cousin. On the surface, this is absurd. Who purchases real estate when the city is about to be burned and the nation dragged into exile?
But Jeremiah obeys. He weighs out seventeen shekels of silver, seals the deed, and places it in an earthen jar so it will last for many days. Why? Because God declares:
That single act of buying land, when all land seemed lost, was a testimony of faith. Jeremiah believed that exile was not the end of the story. The covenant with the people and the land of Israel would endure.
It is impossible to read Jeremiah without thinking about modern history. For centuries, travelers from Mark Twain to Jewish sages like Nachmanides described the Land of Israel as desolate. Twain wrote of āsackcloth and ashes.ā Nachmanides, arriving in 1267, could not find ten Jews in Jerusalem to form a prayer quorum.
Yet Jeremiah had promised: āAgain you shall plant vineyards on the hills of Shomronā (Jeremiah 31:4ā5). And after the Six-Day War in 1967, Jewish families moved back to Samaria and did exactly that. Today, vineyards flourish where desolation once reigned. Jeremiahās words have literally come to life.
This is why Jeremiah resonates so deeply. He teaches us to see beyond the ruins, to believe in Godās word even when the world scoffs, to trust that exile is temporary but Godās covenant is forever.
Perhaps the most debated passage of Jeremiah is chapter 31, where God declares:
For centuries, this verse was torn from context and used as a weapon against Israel. But as Rabbi Weisz explained, the message is unmistakable if you keep reading. The new covenant does not replace the covenant of Sinai, it renews it. God says:
The covenant is eternal. The people of Israel remain Godās nation. The ānewā is not abolition, it is restoration.
So how do you hold on to faith when the world collapses? Jeremiah shows us: by planting seeds of hope, by acting as if redemption is certain even when destruction seems near, and by trusting Godās word more than the headlines.
When Jeremiah bought that field in Anatot, he was not simply engaging in a land deal. He was showing every generation after him that faith is not passive. It requires action, visible, costly, committed action, that testifies to Godās promises.
And that is why Jeremiah is the prophet we need now. He reminds us that exile is never the final word, that redemption is written into the DNA of Godās covenant, and that even in the darkest hour, the Lord of Israel remains faithful.
What Iāve shared here is just a glimpse of what I learned from Rabbi Tuly Weiszās course on Bible Plus. If Jeremiahās message stirs you, as it did me, I canāt recommend his teaching enough.
