Jeremiah 2:27 Commentary: The Folly of Idolatry and the Cry for Salvation

Jeremiah prophesied in Judah during the late seventh and early sixth centuries BC. The land was saturated with Canaanite and Assyrian religious influence. High places dotted the hills; Asherah poles (wooden symbols of the goddess) and stone pillars or obelisks represented the gods Baal and Asherah. The people spoke of these objects in family terms, calling the wood ‘father’ and the stone ‘mother’, not necessarily believing the spirits of ancestors lived therein, but regarding them as patrons or guardians of house and land (Cambridge Bible).

This practice was a direct violation of the covenant. God had called Israel out of Egypt and adopted them as His own son (Exodus 4:22; Deuteronomy 32:6,18). By calling wood and stone ‘father’ and ‘mother,’ they renounced that adoption. The Hebrew word for ‘back’ (oref) occurs elsewhere in the idiom of stubbornness, stiffening the neck against God. Here, the people ‘turn’ (verb panah) their backs, a word used for physically turning away in rejection.

In the surrounding passage (Jeremiah 2:26, 28), the prophet compares Israel to a thief caught in the act. As a thief is shamed when his crime becomes public, so Israel will be shamed when their idols fail them. The literary structure is ironic: they turned their backs on God, but in the ‘time of their trouble’ (a phrase that echoes the covenant curses of Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28) they will beg God to arise and save them. This pattern, crying to the Lord only when distress hits, appears throughout the book of Judges (Judges 10:8, 16).

The consulted sources note one significant textual variant. In the address to the stone, the Masoretic tradition has a difference between the written consonantal text (Ketiv) and the reading tradition (Qere). The Ketiv reads yelidtani (“you gave birth to me”), while the Qere reads yelidtinu (“you gave birth to us”). Keil & Delitzsch favor the Ketiv, arguing that each individual worshiper speaks personally, matching the singular “my father.” The Qere may have been influenced by the plural “they say” earlier in the verse. Most modern English translations follow the Ketiv (“me”). No other significant variants are noted in the supplied material.

Jeremiah 2:27 has been read across church history as a classic indictment of human fickleness in matters of worship. Early Christian writers, such as those in the Patristic period, used the verse to contrast the living God with the dead idols of paganism, calling believers to consistent devotion. During the Reformation, Calvin employed the passage to criticize the Catholic practice of praying before images, arguing that calling on a statue for salvation is idolatry regardless of distinctions between types of honor (latria vs. dulia). In subsequent revival preaching, the image of fair-weather faith, calling on God only in crisis, served as a call to repentance and genuine trust. The verse has also been cited in pastoral care to gently challenge those who rely on material security yet turn to God when that security fails.

Three-point outline

1. The absurd exchange. People call wood ‘father’ and stone ‘mother’, giving to lifeless matter the honor that belongs to the living God (Clarke, Gill). This is not mere ignorance; it is a deliberate turning away from the source of life.
2. The shame of failure. Like a thief caught in the act (Matthew Henry, Keil & Delitzsch), idolaters are exposed. Their trust in false gods brings disgrace, not deliverance.
3. The stubborn cry in crisis. In trouble, the same people shout, ‘Arise, save us’ (Barnes, JFB). Whether this cry goes to God or to the idols (a point of debate), it reveals a deep, theological instinct that refuses to be silenced.

Five-point outline

1. Ascription misplaced. ‘You are my father’, words meant for the Creator are given to a tree (Clarke).
2. Birth debased. ‘You have given birth to me’, the stone becomes a mother, turning the imagery of life upside down.
3. Reversal of direction. ‘They have turned their back… not their face’, the posture of rejection (Calvin, Keil).
4. Crisis and conscience. ‘In the time of their trouble’, prosperity masks folly; hardship exposes need (Barnes).
5. A cry that still rises. ‘Arise, and save us’, whether spoken to God or to an idol, the cry admits that wood and stone cannot help.

Illustration hooks

• Fair-weather loyalty. A friend who only calls when they need something, the same friend who ignored you for months. The people treat God that way.
• Empty promises of objects. A worn-out tool or a lucky charm that someone insists will solve their problems, until the real crisis comes and they run to someone who can actually help.
• Caught in the act. The shame of a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew; the excuses evaporate when the evidence is undeniable.

Questions your congregation is asking

• Why do people who ignore God still pray when things go wrong? Is that prayer real or just a reflex?
• How can we tell if we are treating something (a job, a relationship, a hobby) like an idol, giving it the loyalty that belongs to God?
• If God knows we are fickle, does He still hear our cries in trouble, even if we have been running from Him?

Jeremiah 2:27 paints a painful, honest picture of how God’s people act. They have replaced the living God with pieces of wood and stone, calling them father and mother. Then, when disaster hits, they suddenly want rescue from the God they rejected. This passage holds a mirror up to our own habits of trust. Use these questions to explore the tension between what we profess and how we live.

Discussion questions

1. Read Jeremiah 2:27 aloud. What emotions do you hear in God’s voice as He delivers this accusation?
2. Why does Jeremiah point out that the people say the wood is their father and the stone their mother? What does that reveal about the depth of their idolatry?
3. How does the image of a thief being ashamed apply to the people here? In what ways do our own misplaced trusts eventually bring shame or disappointment?
4. The people turn their backs on God but cry to Him in trouble. Is this cynical, desperate, or something else? What does it reveal about the human heart?
5. Barnes writes that the deep conviction of God “resumes its authority” in times of trouble. Have you ever experienced that, crying out to God in a crisis after drifting away?
6. Calvin argues the people are still praying to their statues. Gill and others say they pray to the true God. Which reading makes more sense to you, and why?
7. Where in your own life might you be tempted to trust something other than God (a plan, a person, a possession) only to realize it cannot save you in the end?