This sermon calls us to reject deceit, embrace truthfulness in our relationships, and return to God, who heals and restores through honesty and integrity.
“The time is always right to do what is right.” —Martin Luther King Jr.
Friends, I’m glad you’re here. Pull your chair a little closer. Let your heart take a deep breath. In a world swirling with spin, slogans, and slippery half-truths, your soul longs for the steady voice of God. You were made to live in the light, to breathe honesty like oxygen, to hand trust to your neighbor without watching it shatter. And yet many of us know the ache of broken confidences. We’ve felt the sting of words that looked like friendship yet hid a hook. We’ve watched relationships limping along because trust lost its footing.
Have you ever tasted that hurt? A promise made and then conveniently forgotten. A smile offered with a secret agenda. The quiet suspicion that creeps into a home, a church, a city when truth is traded for appearances. It wears us out. It wears our world out. It makes our hearts heavy and our conversations cautious.
Into all of this, God speaks. Not with a wagging finger, but with a father’s heart and a prophet’s clarity. He loves you too much to let lies have the last word. He calls us to a life where words and hearts match, where promises have weight, where truth doesn’t tremble in the face of pressure. This is not about shaming the sinner; it’s about healing the soul. Truth is not a hammer to hurt us; truth is a hand to help us. Truth tears down the curtains so that grace can walk in.
Jeremiah stood in days that feel surprisingly familiar. The headlines were messy. The streets were anxious. People had learned to bend their tongues like bows, loosing arrows of deceit. Families felt it. Friendships felt it. The nation felt it. And God, with holy love, spoke through His servant to reveal the mess for what it was and to invite His people back—back to honesty, back to integrity, back to Himself.
So as we begin, open your heart to hope. Truth may feel costly, yet it is always kind. It frees us from the heavy habits of pretending. It strengthens our friendships and sweetens our homes. It gives us words we can rest on and promises we can build on. Most of all, truth ushers us into the presence of the One who is faithful and true—Jesus, our refuge, our Redeemer, our righteous King.
Listen for God’s voice today. He is gentle, and He is good. He points out what poisons us so that He can pour in what heals us. He calls us away from slick speech and into simple sincerity. He can take a tangled web and, thread by thread, make something beautiful again. He can teach our tongues to tell the truth and our hearts to treasure it. He can strengthen our steps so that we walk straight, speak straight, live straight.
As we read, imagine God stepping near—close enough to catch your tears, strong enough to carry your fears, wise enough to straighten what’s crooked. He will show us where truth has been forsaken. He will show us how deceit damages our dearest relationships. And He will call us—firmly and tenderly—back to Himself.
Scripture Reading: Jeremiah 9:3-9 (KJV) 3 And they bend their tongues like their bow for lies: but they are not valiant for the truth upon the earth; for they proceed from evil to evil, and they know not me, saith the LORD. 4 Take ye heed every one of his neighbour, and trust ye not in any brother: for every brother will utterly supplant, and every neighbour will walk with slanders. 5 And they will deceive every one his neighbour, and will not speak the truth: they have taught their tongue to speak lies, and weary themselves to commit iniquity. 6 Thine habitation is in the midst of deceit; through deceit they refuse to know me, saith the LORD. 7 Therefore thus saith the LORD of hosts, Behold, I will melt them, and try them; for how shall I do for the daughter of my people? 8 Their tongue is as an arrow shot out; it speaketh deceit: one speaketh peaceably to his neighbour with his mouth, but in heart he layeth his wait. 9 Shall I not visit them for these things? saith the LORD: shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?
Opening Prayer Father of truth, we come to You with open hands and honest hearts. Where our words have wobbled and our promises have thinned, forgive us. Where suspicion has crowded out trust, heal us. Where deceit has darkened our homes, our friendships, or our thoughts, shine Your light. Teach our tongues to speak truth and our hearts to love truth. Let Your Spirit sift us kindly and cleanse us thoroughly. Give us courage to confess, strength to change, and joy to walk in Your ways. Lord Jesus, be the honesty in our speech and the integrity in our steps. Anchor us in Your faithfulness, and let our lives reflect Your heart. In Your powerful name we pray, Amen.
The prophet shows a people who treat words like weapons. Tongues pulled tight like a bow. Arrows let fly. The aim is not care. The aim is gain. The aim is to win the moment, to shield the self, to step ahead. It starts with speech. It grows into a way of life. The ground under their feet turns slick because everything is spun. Truth loses its weight. Lies get a life of their own.
When this happens, courage fades. The text says they were not brave for truth. That line tells a story. Telling the truth takes heart. It costs us pride. It risks loss. It asks for trust in God. When fear rules, people settle for easy words. They settle for half-truths and soft edges. Then the heart grows dull. The conscience gets quiet. And the community suffers for it.
The language in the passage is strong. “They proceed from evil to evil.” It is a slide. A slope. One step makes way for the next. The line between right and wrong gets hazy. Memory forgets what straight feels like. After a while, lies feel normal. Like air. Like traffic noise. It is always there, and no one even hears it anymore.
Listen to the line, “they have taught their tongue to speak lies.” That sounds like practice. Rehearsal. Habit. This is not a slip. This is training. Words get shaped to fit the moment. Stories get edited to protect a plan. The tongue learns shortcuts. The mind builds patterns that back it up. This takes effort. The text says they “weary themselves to commit iniquity.” That is a sad trade. All that energy spent to keep up a false story.
This kind of training starts small. A little exaggeration. A promise we never planned to keep. A report that hides the hard part. Then the tongue gets used to it. It starts to feel smooth. It works. So we do it again. And again. Soon the script writes itself. We hardly think about it. The lie is automatic. The heart follows the tongue, and the whole person bends.
There is a cost to this pace. You can feel it in your body. Tight shoulders. A mind that never rests. Always remembering who you told what. Always checking your tracks. The soul gets tired. The text said they got weary, and that weariness is real. Truth is simple and peaceful. Deceit is busy. It runs. It hides. It builds walls and props and masks. It drains the strength.
The prophet’s words push us to notice where we have trained our own mouths. We can untrain them. We can slow down. We can tell the truth even when it stings. We can ask God to reset our reflexes. It will take practice in a new direction. It will take confession. It will take time. But it can be done. He helps those who ask.
Notice the street-level effect. “Take heed every one of his neighbor.” Trust dries up. A brother looks like a threat. A neighbor sounds like a risk. That is a heavy way to live. Homes get quiet. Tables get cold. People hold back. The room can be full, but no one is safe. Lies make everyone smaller.
The prophet also names two moves we know too well. Slander and supplanting. Slander ruins names without ever entering a room. It is a whisper that travels fast. It is a story with a twist that sounds clever. It eats away at honor. Supplanting pushes someone aside to step into their place. It smiles while it steals. It calls itself smart. It leaves a trail of hurt faces.
Verse eight gives an image that sticks. “One speaks peaceably to his neighbor with his mouth, but in heart he layeth his wait.” That is a trap. Words soothe, but plans hunt. The person in front of you hears comfort. They walk away with a lighter step. Then a snare snaps shut when they turn the corner. That kind of two-faced speech damages hearts. It makes listeners doubt every greeting, every promise, every praise.
Communities cannot stand firm when speech is like that. Contracts mean little. Vows feel thin. Leaders sound bright and then do dark. Old friends start to keep score. Young people learn the game. They see how it works and copy it. The culture bends toward cynicism. It becomes hard to believe anything. Even good news sounds like a trick.
The Scripture is not only pointing at “them.” It is pointing at “us.” Where do our words sign a peace treaty that our hearts do not intend to honor? Where do we flatter because it is easier than truth in love? Where do we pass on a rumor because it feels exciting? This is where trust is reclaimed. At the level of one mouth. One choice. One quiet refusal to speak harm.
“Through deceit they refuse to know me,” says the Lord. That is a deep line. Deceit is not only a social problem. It is a spiritual barrier. When a person bends words again and again, the inner ear stops hearing straight. The heart gets used to fog. You cannot see God clearly through fog you chose to keep. The soul learns to call light by another name.
The passage also says, “they know not me.” That is the core grief. To know God is to walk in the light He gives. He is true. He does not play angles. He keeps covenant. He swears and He performs. When we give ourselves to crooked speech, we step away from His ways. Prayer then feels thin. Scripture feels far. Worship feels like acting. The distance is not only in the mind. It is in the will.
This is why truth telling is worship. When we open our lips and speak plainly, we honor Him. When we confess the whole story, we draw near to His heart. When we keep a promise that costs us, we bear His image in public. Truth is not mere accuracy. Truth is alignment with the God who is faithful. Lies may seem clever, but they starve the soul.
Some of us carry shame here. We think our past words close the door forever. The text does not say that. The door is still open. The Lord invites. He calls us back. He is patient, and He is able to retrain a tongue. He can also heal a memory so we can face the truth without collapse. He can give us courage for the next honest word.
Make it simple. Speak in the light. Let your yes be yes. Tell the full story even when it feels slow. Ask the Spirit to check you when you start to shape words to your advantage. This is how knowing God grows again. Step by step. Day by day. In ordinary talk at the sink. In meetings. In hard conversations.
The Lord says, “Behold, I will melt them, and try them.” That is refining language. Metal goes into fire so that the hidden mix comes out. You learn what is inside when heat rises. The lies that felt stable melt in the flame. The parts that hold value remain. This is mercy in a hard form. The Lord cares enough to apply heat.
Testing is not random pain. It has purpose. It reveals. It purifies. It resets. When a nation, a church, or a family walks in deceit, God may send a season where lies stop working. The cover gets pulled back. The double talk falls apart. The scam is named. It is hard to live through, yet it is a gift. It gives a chance to start fresh with clean speech and clear hearts.
The prophet also carries a sober word. “Shall I not visit them for these things?” That visit is serious. God pays attention to the harm that lies cause. He sees the tears under the smile. He hears the quiet slander that no one recorded. He weighs it. He answers. His justice is not a mood. It is His holy love acting in public.
Some hear that and feel panic. Hear also the aim. He melts and tries so that a people can be whole again. He confronts so that the oppressed rest. He shuts down the tongue that hunts neighbors so that streets can be safe again. He calls leaders to account so that promises mean something again. This is the kindness of a holy God. He does not ignore the web. He cuts it.
So what do we do when we feel the heat? We agree with Him. We stop defending the false. We bring receipts of our own life to Him. We tell the truth about where we spoke peace with our lips and planned gain in our heart. We ask Him to change us. We accept the refining as love.
And when He visits, we do not hide. We open the door. We let Him search the house. We let Him clear the attic of old scripts we have saved. We let Him set a guard over our mouth. We let Him write new ways to speak on our hearts. His fire does not destroy gold. It makes it shine.
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