Commentary - Jeremiah 17:5-8

Bird's-eye view

Jeremiah here lays out one of the Bible’s most fundamental antitheses. This is not a gentle suggestion or a minor point of theology; it is the continental divide of the human condition. There are two ways to live, and only two. You can trust in man, or you can trust in Yahweh. One path leads to a cursed barrenness, and the other to blessed fruitfulness. The prophet uses stark, vivid imagery, a withered juniper in a salt flat versus a vibrant tree by a river, to show us that where we place our ultimate trust is not a matter of indifference. It is a matter of life and death, blessing and cursing. This is covenant theology in its most practical, earthy terms. God has set before us life and death, and He commands us to choose life. Jeremiah is simply applying that foundational covenantal choice to the heart of every man.

The whole passage pivots on the object of trust. Is your trust directed horizontally, toward created things, or vertically, toward the Creator? The consequences flow directly and inexorably from that choice. This isn't a system of arbitrary rewards and punishments. Rather, it is an illustration of how reality is structured. To trust in man is to trust in a creature who is, as the psalmist says, a breath. His thoughts perish. To build on that is to build on nothing, and so the result is nothing. To trust in the Lord is to connect yourself to the very source of all life and stability, and the result is life and stability. Jeremiah wants us to see the choice for what it is and to run from the folly of humanism to the security of God.

Outline

Context In Jeremiah

This passage doesn't appear in a vacuum. Jeremiah is prophesying to a nation, Judah, that has made a consistent habit of trusting in man. They have trusted in political alliances with Egypt and Assyria. They have trusted in their own military strength. They have trusted in the formal observance of Temple worship, thinking the physical building would save them. They have trusted in false prophets who told them what they wanted to hear. In short, their heart had turned away from Yahweh, even while they maintained a veneer of religiosity. Jeremiah's ministry is a sustained demolition of this false confidence.

So when he delivers this oracle, he is holding up a mirror to the nation. The cursed man who trusts in mankind is not some hypothetical individual; it is Judah. The juniper in the desert is a picture of what they have become, and what awaits them in the Babylonian exile. But as always with Jeremiah, the word of judgment is never the final word. The sharp contrast with the blessed man is a call to repentance. It is an invitation to return, to switch their allegiance from the arm of flesh to the arms of Yahweh. The promise of the tree planted by the water is a gospel promise, pointing forward to the restoration that will come through a better covenant, where God’s law is written on the heart.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 5 Thus says Yahweh, “Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind And makes flesh his strength, And whose heart turns away from Yahweh.

The oracle begins with the ultimate authority: "Thus says Yahweh." This isn't Jeremiah's opinion or a piece of folk wisdom. This is a declaration from the throne of the universe. And the first word is a thunderclap: "Cursed." In a covenant context, curses are not just angry wishes; they are the legally stipulated consequences for breaking the covenant. This is the de-creation that results from rebellion.

The sin is defined in three parallel ways. First, it is trusting "in mankind." The object of faith is wrong. It is placed in a mere mortal, a son of Adam. Second, it is making "flesh his strength." This is the same error, stated differently. "Flesh" here means human ability, resources, and power, all of it unassisted by God. It is the attempt to live life out of our own creaturely resources, which is like trying to run a machine on no power. The third description gets to the root of the problem: "whose heart turns away from Yahweh." The external actions of trusting man and relying on flesh are just symptoms. The disease is in the heart. The heart is the wellspring of life, and when it turns from the source of life, the result can only be death and cursing. This is the essence of idolatry: turning from the Creator to the creature.

v. 6 And he will be like a juniper in the desert And will not see when prosperity comes, But will dwell in stony wastes in the wilderness, A land of salt which is not inhabited.

Here is the portrait of the cursed life. The image is of a stunted, isolated shrub, a juniper or some other kind of scraggly bush, in the most hostile environment imaginable. The desert, stony wastes, a salt flat. This is a place where nothing grows. It is a picture of utter desolation and sterility. The man who trusts in man ends up spiritually barren.

Notice the tragic irony: "he will not see when prosperity comes." Goodness, blessing, and rain might fall all around him, but he is constitutionally incapable of receiving it or benefiting from it. His roots are not in the soil that receives the rain. He is disconnected from the source of blessing. When you trust in man, you are setting yourself up in a place where you cannot receive what only God can give. A salt land is a place of judgment, a place that cannot support life. This is the end point of all humanistic striving. It promises a garden and delivers a salt flat.

v. 7 Blessed is the man who trusts in Yahweh And whose trust is Yahweh.

Now the prophet pivots. The antithesis is absolute. From the curse, we move to the blessing. "Blessed is the man." This echoes the first Psalm, and for good reason. The blessed man is the one whose life is oriented correctly. And what is that orientation? He "trusts in Yahweh." His confidence, his hope, his security are all located in God.

The second phrase deepens the first: "And whose trust is Yahweh." This is a beautiful Hebrew construction. It's not just that he directs his trust toward Yahweh; it is that Yahweh Himself becomes his trust. God is not merely the object of his faith, but the very substance of his security. He is not trusting in a set of promises abstractly; he is trusting in the Promiser. His hope is not in a theological system, but in a Person. This is the heart of a true covenant relationship. God gives Himself to His people, and they, in turn, find their all in Him.

v. 8 And he will be like a tree planted by the water, That sends forth its roots by a stream And will not fear when the heat comes; But its leaves will be green, And it will not be anxious in a year of drought Nor refrain from yielding fruit.

Here is the portrait of the blessed life, and it is the polar opposite of the juniper. This is a mighty, flourishing tree. The key is its location: it is "planted by the water." It has a constant, life-giving source. This isn't a tree struggling in a desert; this is a tree deliberately placed in the optimal position for growth. This is what it means to be in Christ.

Because its roots go down deep to the stream, it is impervious to the external circumstances that would destroy the juniper. "It will not fear when the heat comes." The trials of life, the scorching pressures, do not cause it to wither. Why? Because its source is not on the surface. Its life is hidden. Its leaves remain green, a constant sign of life and vitality. It is not "anxious in a year of drought." When the world's resources dry up, the believer who is rooted in Christ is not shaken. His supply is independent of the world's economy. And the final result? He does not "refrain from yielding fruit." The blessed life is a productive life. It is a life that glorifies God by bearing much fruit, regardless of the surrounding climate. This is the life of defiant, supernatural abundance that is promised to all who make Yahweh their trust.

Application

The application of this passage is as sharp and clear as the contrast it presents. Every man, every day, is faced with the choice described here. Where will you place your trust? It is easy for us, as Christians, to say we trust in God. But our anxieties, our political frenzies, our financial worries, and our frantic efforts at self-justification often reveal that we are trying to make flesh our strength.

This passage calls us to a radical examination of our hearts. Are we living like junipers in a salt flat, brittle and barren, because we are looking horizontally to other people, to government, to our 401k, or to our own cleverness for our security and significance? Or are we living like trees planted by the river, with deep roots in the unshakeable reality of God in Christ?

The blessed life is not a life free of heat or drought. The passage assumes the heat will come, and the droughts will happen. The difference is not in the circumstances, but in the resource. The man who trusts in Yahweh has a subterranean source of life that the world knows nothing about. Therefore, he can be fruitful in the very conditions that wipe out everyone else. This is a call to repentance. Turn from the broken cisterns of human strength and drink deeply from the river of the water of life, which is Christ himself. Make Him your trust, and you will not only survive the coming heat, you will bear fruit in the middle of it.