When the Mess Is Your Fault, God Still Stays
A reflection on the Babylonian Exile from “The Long Road to Bethlehem” – Advent 2025
In this Advent series, we’ve been walking what I’ve called The Long Road to Bethlehem. Advent is only four weeks on the calendar, but the road that leads to the birth of Christ stretches all the way back to the beginning. This season, we’re tracing some of the major movements along that road. We’re not just listening to what God says, but watching what God does.
Because actions reveal the heart.
We began in the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were given a simple instruction, meant for their good, and they chose not to trust God’s heart or wisdom. Shame entered the world. Hiding followed. But what happened next matters deeply. God did not turn away from them. He turned toward them. He covered their shame. And immediately, God put in place a promise of restoration. When humanity questioned God, God stayed engaged.
Last week we traveled to Egypt. There, God’s people were suffering through no fault of their own. Circumstances had changed around them. They cried out, and God responded. God said, “I see you. I hear you. I know your suffering.” Those aren’t distant words. They’re heart words. They’re the words a loving parent speaks to a hurting child. And God didn’t just speak. He came down. He acted. He rescued.
This week, the road took us somewhere harder. We went to Babylon.
The Babylonian exile is different from Egypt. This time, the suffering wasn’t accidental. It wasn’t imposed by changing circumstances. It was the result of choices — decades of warnings ignored, priorities misplaced, and hearts turned away from God. Prophet after prophet had spoken. “Return to the Lord,” they said. “There will be consequences if you don’t.” And eventually, the consequences came.
Nebuchadnezzar conquered Jerusalem and carried Israel’s leaders into exile. This is where stories like Daniel in the lions’ den and the three men in the fiery furnace take place. Babylon was a place of power, intimidation, and foreign gods.
The people prayed for it not to happen once the consequences were clearly falling. But it was too late. And through the prophets, God said something striking: Settle down. Build houses. Plant fields. Raise your children. Work for the good of the cities where you live. You’re going to be here for a while.
In other words, the consequences were real. They were not erased. And God allowed them to stand.
But here’s the crucial thing. God did not abandon His people.
In the ancient world, gods were thought to be territorial. They ruled over specific lands. If you were conquered and carried off, you had effectively been taken out of your god’s jurisdiction. But Yahweh is not like that. The God of Israel went with His people into Babylon. He walked with them through their consequences.
How do we know? Because in the heart of Babylon itself, God showed up. Daniel was thrown into a den of lions, and God shut their mouths. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were thrown into a blazing furnace, and a fourth figure appeared with them in the fire. God stepped into what looked like enemy territory and made it clear that all territory is His territory and He had not abandoned His people.
And that leads to the first lesson Babylon teaches us.
God does not abandon you when you make a mess of your life.
He may not clean it up for you.
But He stays with you.
He remains available to you.
And His love for you has not diminished one bit.
That’s good news, because most of the messes we deal with are of our own making.
If we’re honest, we talk ourselves into trouble. We are our own best salespeople. Nearly every unwise decision we’ve made came with a convincing internal pitch. We can spot bad sales talk from others a mile away. But when it’s our own voice, we don’t hear it as clearly. And sometimes, we end up living with the consequences.
God does not promise to rescue us from those consequences. But neither does He stand at a distance waiting for us to fix everything before welcoming us back. He walks with us through the mess. He offers strength, wisdom, and presence while we learn what we need to learn.
That’s what good parents do. They don’t remove every consequence, because growth requires reality. But they also don’t abandon their children to face consequences alone. They stay close.
As we’ve walked this long road together—from Eden, to Egypt, to Babylon—something else has started to come into focus. Not just what God does in each moment, but what all those actions reveal about God’s heart.
If you want to know what matters most to someone, watch what they do.
And when we watch God, we see what I can only describe as a divine crescendo of commitment.
In Eden, God forgives and promises restoration.
In Egypt, God sees, hears, knows, and comes down to rescue.
In Babylon, God stays present even when the mess is self-made.
And in Advent, that crescendo reaches its fullness.
“Emmanuel.” God with us.
God didn’t just send another message. God came Himself. He entered our world to rescue those living under the shadow of sin and death. And that road didn’t stop at Bethlehem. It led to the cross, where God’s commitment was revealed beyond all doubt.
Which brings us to a second, more tender truth — one Scripture speaks often about, even if it makes us a little uncomfortable.
God does not only love us like a Father.
God pursues us like a Lover.
A parent raises children to grow, mature, and eventually leave. A lover wants to draw close and stay close forever. Scripture uses this language again and again. The Song of Solomon. The prophets. Revelation’s vision of a city descending like a bride adorned for her husband.
What does someone in love say to the beloved?
“I would die for you.”
And that is exactly what God says to us in Jesus Christ. He looks us in the eye and says, “I would die for you.” And then He does.
God is a guiding and protecting Father, yes. But He is also a pursuing Lover who wants more than compliance, more than reluctant trust. He wants our hearts.
This is the God revealed to us on the long road to Bethlehem. A God whose love is deep, persistent, protective, and pursuing. A God who will do anything that does not violate His character to win us back — not just to secure our submission, not just to gain our trust, but to restore love.
And that is good news for anyone who has ever whispered, “I really messed this up.”
God is still there.
God still stays.
And the road still leads home.