The first few months of the Second World War, just 80 years ago, were a tense time of waiting. Children had been evacuated from our cities, factories had been placed on a war footing, the armed services were on full alert, and films had told people what to do in the event of an air raid. Yet nothing much seemed to be happening: the expected invasion of France had not taken place, Britain had not been bombed, nor had parachutists dropped from the sky. As you know, this time became known as the “Phoney War”. People couldn’t be complacent as they knew it would not last for ever.

It strikes me as I write that we are in a similar situation as the Brexit clock continues to tick down to October 31^st. Parliament has been suspended and the politicians are working through their various party conferences. The courts tasked with deciding whether that suspension of Government was legal have sat, and now revealed their verdict that Parliament must resume its business. Discussions with other European governments continue but appear to be making little progress. Everything seems to have gone quiet and no firm deal has been agreed. It’s a strange and unsettling situation: who knows what will happen next?

Jeremiah the Old Testament prophet lived in unsettling times when it seemed as if the future of Israel hung in the balance. Much of the country had already been overrun by foreign forces; now the Chaldeans were at the very gates of Jerusalem, ready to burn the city to the ground and send its leading inhabitants into exile. According to the prophet, this was all due to the Hebrews’ willful disobedience to God: they had become so corrupt and irreligious that they had brought his punishment upon them.

Yet, at this critical juncture, God told Jeremiah to do a strange thing (you can read the story in chapter 32 of the book named after him). He was to buy a field back in his home village from a nephew; this wasn’t to be a quick cash transaction, but one which went through all the proper legal processes. When the purchase was completed, he was to place the deeds in a pottery jar so they would be kept safe “for a long time”.

Humanly speaking, nothing could have seemed more stupid. For the country was about to be invaded – as Jeremiah himself had prophesied – and the victors would surely seize all the land and divide it up among themselves. All deeds and titles would become void, not worth the paper they were written on. So why on earth was the prophet throwing his money away like this? It was madness.

But God had his reason, which was this: he was making a declaration that the chaos would not last for ever, that the Jews would eventually get their land back, that “houses and fields and vineyards would again be bought” in it. That jar with the deeds inside was to be a powerful symbol of hope, a visual aid or aide-memoire declaring that God was still on his throne and had not abandoned his people. It was a demonstration of the faith expressed at the start of Psalm 46: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change or the mountains shake in the heart of the sea”.

We live in uncertain times; we feel helpless, not knowing what this coming month will hold. True, there is no enemy waiting to besiege Cardiff, nor are we God’s “chosen people” in the same sense as ancient Israel. And, of course, it is we who are responsible for our own political decisions: we can’t expect God to intervene. Nevertheless, let us pray for our nation, its Government and its leaders. And let us ultimately put our trust in God – for that’s the best thing we can possibly do.

Best wishes, Andrew.

P.S. I claim no originality for these thoughts. Moira and I recently attended the Induction Service for Lesley Lawrence, the new Minister at the Church of the Resurrection in St. Mellons. It was a joyous occasion, not least because it was a genuine “Cardiff East” event and also because I had helped to “hold the church’s hand” during the appointment process. What I’ve written is based on the message that was preached by the Rev. Dr. Peter Stevenson, who has just retired from the South Wales Baptist College.