I’ve been thinking a lot about the Babylonian exile lately. I find it strangely comforting.
The Israelites were separated from their families, transported hundreds of miles from home, suddenly living in an unknown culture with an unintelligible language and forced into slave labor. They couldn’t offer sacrifices at the temple; couldn’t gather a minyan or pray as a group; probably couldn’t have any real contact with anyone of the same faith. Some were undoubtedly beaten or abused.
That’s about as isolated and lonely as it gets. Yet even under those horrific circumstances, God asked them to be faithful.
And they were.
It’s food for serious thought during tough times.
