Prophet
Commentary
Object:
In 330 BC, the Greek philosopher Aristotle said that by observing a person walking he could tell something essential about that person's character. Aristotle insisted that the direction of one's gaze was tied to one's perspective on life. The person who looks downward most of the time is caught up with the past. His or her identity rests largely on tradition or past performance or the norms set down by previous generations.
The person who looks straight ahead was Aristotle's favorite. This one, he said, has a balanced view of things, able to take in the short vision as well as the panorama of the sky and horizon. This person, according to Aristotle, lives in the present fully while being shaped by both past and future.
And then, in Arisotle's understanding, there is the dreamer, the visionary, the prophet. Aristotle didn't see much of a present life for those who only gaze toward the sky as they walk. Yet there is something deeply wonderful about them and their presence is truly necessary for the rest of society. They may not be fully in touch with this world but they have the uncanny ability to interpret all the grays of life under the spellbinding brilliance of future resolution. They tell fairy tales. They speak in parables. They use the language of analogy.
You and I agree that life is more than fairy tales. And we may search a long time before we find a person for whom Aristotle's third description seems fully to apply in this gray world of ours. But poorer would be our lives if we didn't meet them now and again or at least see their words published boldly at times above the cacophony of jingles and slogans in our twittered world of ads and admen.
Today's lectionary readings bring us, like those searching for the hidden figure in the children's classic Where's Waldo?, on a quest to find a prophet. "The Prophet," according to Moses. An authoritative voice, as Paul puts it. Or maybe just back to Jesus himself, the greatest prophet of all time.
Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Being the leader of a community isn't easy. A cartoon shows a man near death lying on a hospital bed. Two visitors sit next to him and one hands him a card. "The good news, pastor," she says, "is that the Women's Club at the church decided to get this 'Get Well' card for you. The bad news is that the vote was 23 to 22!"
That could be the picture of any of a hundred different leaders in our world today. A prime minister skates at the bottom of the popularity polls. A president wins a Nobel Peace Prize from those outside of his country and buckets of complaints from those within it. Another world leader seems intent on courting the disfavor of the whole world. If one of them were to be taken to hospital, Hallmark Card company stock wouldn't go up a penny! The ancient Greek philosopher was right: "Authority is never without hate."
A few years back, Jim Lundy wrote a book called Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way. According to Lundy, the most common message circulating in many organizations is this lament: We the uninformed, working for the inaccessible, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. To put it another way, he says, most people feel like the mushrooms being grown in one of those long, low barns: We feel we're being kept in the dark. Every once in a while someone comes around and spreads manure on us. When our heads pop up, they're chopped off. And then we're canned! Do you ever feel like that?
Deuteronomy is Moses' swan song and yet has no hint of the tired frustration we so often feel about heads of state and leaders of corporations. Enthusiasm builds, till it seems as if the sun rises and sets on this man and these times. But Moses knows he is only a mere mortal. After 120-some years of wrangling slave masters and desert sheep and cantankerous Israelites, his mojo is spent. He's about to die.
He knows that this people need a leader and he is certain that another will follow him. In fact, Joshua is his handpicked and divinely affirmed successor.
Still, no one can really replace Moses. He is one of a kind. He's been given high marks all around:
Vision: A+
Personal Integrity: A+
Prophetic Voice: A+
Compassionate Heart: A+
Accountability: A+
Now, in these last moments of his remarkable pilgrimage, Moses receives and passes along word that one day, some day, a prophet like him will return. The New Testament church had no problem identifying him as the greater Son of David who more than lived up to the glories shouted about him. Isaac Watts's well-known hymn paraphrases Psalm 72 as it tries to declare the winsome ways of the truly great One:
Jesus shall reign where'er the sun
does its successive journeys run,
his kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
till moons shall wax and wane no more.
If Moses' dying testimony stirs in us noble thoughts about Joshua or the prophets of the Old Testament age it does well, and if it points us to King Jesus so much the better. But if it fills us with a desire to actively participate in such a kingdom ourselves, then the Word of God is doing its best work. For every child of God is a prophet who shares the possibilities of restoring righteousness and dignity to relationships on earth. In the words of Ted Engstrom:
The world needs men [and women]...
who cannot be bought; whose word is their bond;
who put character above wealth; who possess opinions and a will;
who are larger than their vocation;
who will not lose their individuality in a crowd;
who will be as honest in small things as in great things;
who will make no compromise with wrong;
whose ambitions are not confined to their own selfish desires;
who are true to their friends through good report and evil;
who are not ashamed or afraid to stand for the truth....
Are you counted in that number?
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
The matter of meat offered to idols in today's lectionary reading is very interesting, because it arises from confusion about the instructions issued by the Jerusalem council several years before (Acts 15). Gentiles were told that they did not need to first become practicing Jews in order to become believing Christians. But some social and dietary suggestions were offered so that Gentiles and Jews might be able to share table fellowship, particularly when commemorating the Last Supper together. The brief instruction at that time was to "abstain from food sacrificed to idols" (Acts 15:29).
Already, these few years later, that command was being interpreted in a variety of ways. When animal sacrifices were made at cultic shrines, particularly on well-attended public occasions, there was often too much flesh either for burning or for eating at the time. Without refrigeration the meat was destined to spoil quickly so much of the excess was dumped into the markets at bargain-basement prices. Since some of the Christians in Corinth were from lower classes, this inexpensive meat offered a lot of meal for the money and that is where the controversy began.
Some, who had taken strong hold on the freedoms offered by Christ, knew that idols were not rival gods, and therefore any meat purchased in this way was simply a wise use of funds. Others, who had emerged from working at the shrines and formerly participating in the cultic practices of these non-Christian religions, found it scandalous for Christians to buy and eat such meat. Another group remembered the instructions of the Jerusalem council and thought it a matter of principle not to engage in this act that had specifically been itemized by the church leaders as inappropriate.
Paul's response sorts through these differing reflections on Christian freedoms and interpersonal responsibilities and leaves the final decisions up to maturing believers who are wise enough to understand how their behaviors can impact others. Once again, as with his instructions in his letter to the Galatians, Paul places the goal of a loving response to Jesus as primary in the making of all moral and ethical choices and follows that closely with a sense of obligation to serve and help others. In effect, Paul's ethical code is essentially that which Jesus espoused: love God above all, and love your neighbor as yourself.
Paul declares these things in the middle of his wrangling with the Corinthian congregation over questions about his authority. Most received him as apostle and prophet of God while he was at work in their city in the years 50-51 AD. But now that Paul has moved on to be the church-planting pastor in Ephesus, does he any longer have a right to speak to them and provide instructions or injunctions?
The essence of 1 Corinthians is that Paul's apostolic authority is linked to his prophetic office and is found not in the democratic will of any congregation but in the certainty of the divine appointment he has received and in the clarity of the divine anointment under which he speaks and writes and communicates. So this "word" from Paul becomes the New Testament scripture for all the churches of Jesus. It is prophecy from another of God's great prophets.
Mark 1:21-28
Anyone who's read Herman Melville's novels knows he was a great storyteller. But those who knew him personally felt the full impact of his storytelling skills. One evening Melville was visiting Nathaniel Hawthorne and his wife. As the evening progressed, Melville stole the show. He told of a fight he had witnessed on a South Seas voyage. A magnificent Polynesian warrior, he said, had wielded his club in a desperate battle struggle.
As he poured out his passionate story, Melville marched about the room and flung his arms in the motions of attack. The Hawthornes were captivated and speechless.
The evening wore on and finally Melville made his way to the door. After he was gone, the Hawthornes suddenly realized he had left without his club. They spent the better part of an hour searching their home for it. In fact, when they next saw Melville they asked him what had become of the club. Only by repeated oaths was Melville able to convince them that there hadn't been a club in his hands! Now that's storytelling!
Storytelling is a great art. Civilizations without written languages pass along their identities from one generation to the next by way of storytelling. Even in literate cultures, stories carry message and meaning long after propositions and arguments have become tedious. The prophets of the Old Testament were great storytellers. If you removed all of the stories and images from the Old Testament, what you'd have left would be a Bible condensed further than Reader's Digest editors could ever manage!
It's the same in the New Testament. Our Lord was a consummate storyteller. We're told that he never spoke publicly after the start of his ministry except in parables. As today's gospel reading indicates, the crowds couldn't get enough. Here, finally, was someone who spoke their language. Here was someone who made doctrine live. Here was someone who brought them in touch with God.
More than that, Jesus confirmed the truth of his testimonies with great acts of power. Even an evil spirit, lodged long in a helpless man, was no match for the acute vision and authoritative command of this storyteller. "Be quiet!" Jesus asserted and the demon could not talk. "Come out of him!" Jesus demanded and it was so. No wonder the news of this prophet was gossiped about all of Galilee.
Application
Someone once asked Malcolm Muggeridge what epitaph he might like on his gravestone. Muggeridge paused for just a moment, and then with a twinkle in his eye replied: "He used words well!" That's how Muggeridge wanted to be remembered.
I like that idea. In an age of video and the visual, it speaks of human interaction, of communication, of the power of words to elevate the soul. This is why we still need prophets among us and why Jesus, the prophet foretold by Moses, remains at the head of the class.
An old short story called "Wordsmith" tells of the coming of age of a young preacher. It describes him enjoying the sensation of words: "He rolled them off his tongue. He caressed them with his lips. He could feel the smoldering intensity of 'passion.' He trembled at the rumbling disquiet of 'mutter' and 'murmur.' His eyes grew misty at the thought of 'pride' and 'dignity' and 'honour.' "
Maybe that breed of speechmaker is vanishing. Still, as Rollo May pointed out in his book The Cry for Myth, what aches in the human heart is a longing for story, forged in the metal of language, that fashions for us identity and purpose. To put it in Northrup Frye's phrase, "words with power" give us life. Frye took his theme from Jesus' teaching, as Mark refers to it in today's gospel reading: "The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority." Surely there is something transcendent in the power of the word.
In the Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the term dabar means both "word" and "deed." Words are never static records, ciphers on a page. They are alive with energy. A word must act or do something in order to be word. "Scripture" is essentially pages from a diary in which God's Word has become the creative energy by which he lives. We search the alphabet from beginning to end (from Aleph to Taw in Hebrew) to find human terms to describe utterances unseen that have carried him along. The creative Word of God has been for us a boundary "law" of protection, a set of "statutes" that serve as pilot lights, "precepts" that create wisdom, "commands" that lead, and "promises" that draw toward the future. In short, the Word of God acts on us the way music operates on those magical little flowers you sometimes see in novelty stores: so long as there is sound, there is motion; so long as there is voice, there is identity; so long as there is Word, there is life.
Dr. Seuss (of children's books fame) once penned this verse:
It has often been said
there's so much to be read,
you never can cram
all those words in your head.
Maybe that's why the last and greatest Word of God, the great Wordsmith, became flesh and walked for a time with us. In him the "word" and the "deed" were one and the same thing. Truly you could say of him: "He used words well."
An Alternative Application
Mark 1:21-28. How shall we give the gift of hope and meaning to the next generation? We want our children to share the grace and the beauty and the power of God. We want them to live stronger and purer lives than he did. And we want to share with them the deepest mysteries of God's care and love. So should we write a book of doctrine? Organize a code of ethics? Slate a list of theological propositions?
Perhaps. But certainly along with these things we must tell a few stories. We need to describe some events from the past. We must dance about the room with an engaging tale. And when we're done with the storytelling, all that's truly necessary has been said. The mystery has been passed; the next generation shares the riches of grace.
Storytelling is still the best way to teach the young. We all know that. Our daughters couldn't wait to climb on our laps and have us read a story to them. Every night they needed another chapter from The Chronicles of Narnia or the Little House books or Winnie-the-Pooh before they went to bed.
Sometimes we seem to lose that thrill as we get older. We turn faith into doctrine and our relationship with God into a theological argument. Not long ago someone wondered to me if storytelling really had any place in sermons. I think that sometimes we find stories threatening because they demand involvement and response, and we'd rather not have our religion get to us that way.
Still, God comes to us by way of a story. Not in just the parables of Jesus or the narratives of the Bible. Jesus himself is the story of God. After all, John opens his gospel by saying that the "Word" of God was made flesh for us. Jesus is the complete story of God's love for us.
"To write a mighty novel you need a mighty theme!" said Herman Melville. And when you've got that mighty theme, you can't help but tell stories!
The person who looks straight ahead was Aristotle's favorite. This one, he said, has a balanced view of things, able to take in the short vision as well as the panorama of the sky and horizon. This person, according to Aristotle, lives in the present fully while being shaped by both past and future.
And then, in Arisotle's understanding, there is the dreamer, the visionary, the prophet. Aristotle didn't see much of a present life for those who only gaze toward the sky as they walk. Yet there is something deeply wonderful about them and their presence is truly necessary for the rest of society. They may not be fully in touch with this world but they have the uncanny ability to interpret all the grays of life under the spellbinding brilliance of future resolution. They tell fairy tales. They speak in parables. They use the language of analogy.
You and I agree that life is more than fairy tales. And we may search a long time before we find a person for whom Aristotle's third description seems fully to apply in this gray world of ours. But poorer would be our lives if we didn't meet them now and again or at least see their words published boldly at times above the cacophony of jingles and slogans in our twittered world of ads and admen.
Today's lectionary readings bring us, like those searching for the hidden figure in the children's classic Where's Waldo?, on a quest to find a prophet. "The Prophet," according to Moses. An authoritative voice, as Paul puts it. Or maybe just back to Jesus himself, the greatest prophet of all time.
Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Being the leader of a community isn't easy. A cartoon shows a man near death lying on a hospital bed. Two visitors sit next to him and one hands him a card. "The good news, pastor," she says, "is that the Women's Club at the church decided to get this 'Get Well' card for you. The bad news is that the vote was 23 to 22!"
That could be the picture of any of a hundred different leaders in our world today. A prime minister skates at the bottom of the popularity polls. A president wins a Nobel Peace Prize from those outside of his country and buckets of complaints from those within it. Another world leader seems intent on courting the disfavor of the whole world. If one of them were to be taken to hospital, Hallmark Card company stock wouldn't go up a penny! The ancient Greek philosopher was right: "Authority is never without hate."
A few years back, Jim Lundy wrote a book called Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way. According to Lundy, the most common message circulating in many organizations is this lament: We the uninformed, working for the inaccessible, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. To put it another way, he says, most people feel like the mushrooms being grown in one of those long, low barns: We feel we're being kept in the dark. Every once in a while someone comes around and spreads manure on us. When our heads pop up, they're chopped off. And then we're canned! Do you ever feel like that?
Deuteronomy is Moses' swan song and yet has no hint of the tired frustration we so often feel about heads of state and leaders of corporations. Enthusiasm builds, till it seems as if the sun rises and sets on this man and these times. But Moses knows he is only a mere mortal. After 120-some years of wrangling slave masters and desert sheep and cantankerous Israelites, his mojo is spent. He's about to die.
He knows that this people need a leader and he is certain that another will follow him. In fact, Joshua is his handpicked and divinely affirmed successor.
Still, no one can really replace Moses. He is one of a kind. He's been given high marks all around:
Vision: A+
Personal Integrity: A+
Prophetic Voice: A+
Compassionate Heart: A+
Accountability: A+
Now, in these last moments of his remarkable pilgrimage, Moses receives and passes along word that one day, some day, a prophet like him will return. The New Testament church had no problem identifying him as the greater Son of David who more than lived up to the glories shouted about him. Isaac Watts's well-known hymn paraphrases Psalm 72 as it tries to declare the winsome ways of the truly great One:
Jesus shall reign where'er the sun
does its successive journeys run,
his kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
till moons shall wax and wane no more.
If Moses' dying testimony stirs in us noble thoughts about Joshua or the prophets of the Old Testament age it does well, and if it points us to King Jesus so much the better. But if it fills us with a desire to actively participate in such a kingdom ourselves, then the Word of God is doing its best work. For every child of God is a prophet who shares the possibilities of restoring righteousness and dignity to relationships on earth. In the words of Ted Engstrom:
The world needs men [and women]...
who cannot be bought; whose word is their bond;
who put character above wealth; who possess opinions and a will;
who are larger than their vocation;
who will not lose their individuality in a crowd;
who will be as honest in small things as in great things;
who will make no compromise with wrong;
whose ambitions are not confined to their own selfish desires;
who are true to their friends through good report and evil;
who are not ashamed or afraid to stand for the truth....
Are you counted in that number?
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
The matter of meat offered to idols in today's lectionary reading is very interesting, because it arises from confusion about the instructions issued by the Jerusalem council several years before (Acts 15). Gentiles were told that they did not need to first become practicing Jews in order to become believing Christians. But some social and dietary suggestions were offered so that Gentiles and Jews might be able to share table fellowship, particularly when commemorating the Last Supper together. The brief instruction at that time was to "abstain from food sacrificed to idols" (Acts 15:29).
Already, these few years later, that command was being interpreted in a variety of ways. When animal sacrifices were made at cultic shrines, particularly on well-attended public occasions, there was often too much flesh either for burning or for eating at the time. Without refrigeration the meat was destined to spoil quickly so much of the excess was dumped into the markets at bargain-basement prices. Since some of the Christians in Corinth were from lower classes, this inexpensive meat offered a lot of meal for the money and that is where the controversy began.
Some, who had taken strong hold on the freedoms offered by Christ, knew that idols were not rival gods, and therefore any meat purchased in this way was simply a wise use of funds. Others, who had emerged from working at the shrines and formerly participating in the cultic practices of these non-Christian religions, found it scandalous for Christians to buy and eat such meat. Another group remembered the instructions of the Jerusalem council and thought it a matter of principle not to engage in this act that had specifically been itemized by the church leaders as inappropriate.
Paul's response sorts through these differing reflections on Christian freedoms and interpersonal responsibilities and leaves the final decisions up to maturing believers who are wise enough to understand how their behaviors can impact others. Once again, as with his instructions in his letter to the Galatians, Paul places the goal of a loving response to Jesus as primary in the making of all moral and ethical choices and follows that closely with a sense of obligation to serve and help others. In effect, Paul's ethical code is essentially that which Jesus espoused: love God above all, and love your neighbor as yourself.
Paul declares these things in the middle of his wrangling with the Corinthian congregation over questions about his authority. Most received him as apostle and prophet of God while he was at work in their city in the years 50-51 AD. But now that Paul has moved on to be the church-planting pastor in Ephesus, does he any longer have a right to speak to them and provide instructions or injunctions?
The essence of 1 Corinthians is that Paul's apostolic authority is linked to his prophetic office and is found not in the democratic will of any congregation but in the certainty of the divine appointment he has received and in the clarity of the divine anointment under which he speaks and writes and communicates. So this "word" from Paul becomes the New Testament scripture for all the churches of Jesus. It is prophecy from another of God's great prophets.
Mark 1:21-28
Anyone who's read Herman Melville's novels knows he was a great storyteller. But those who knew him personally felt the full impact of his storytelling skills. One evening Melville was visiting Nathaniel Hawthorne and his wife. As the evening progressed, Melville stole the show. He told of a fight he had witnessed on a South Seas voyage. A magnificent Polynesian warrior, he said, had wielded his club in a desperate battle struggle.
As he poured out his passionate story, Melville marched about the room and flung his arms in the motions of attack. The Hawthornes were captivated and speechless.
The evening wore on and finally Melville made his way to the door. After he was gone, the Hawthornes suddenly realized he had left without his club. They spent the better part of an hour searching their home for it. In fact, when they next saw Melville they asked him what had become of the club. Only by repeated oaths was Melville able to convince them that there hadn't been a club in his hands! Now that's storytelling!
Storytelling is a great art. Civilizations without written languages pass along their identities from one generation to the next by way of storytelling. Even in literate cultures, stories carry message and meaning long after propositions and arguments have become tedious. The prophets of the Old Testament were great storytellers. If you removed all of the stories and images from the Old Testament, what you'd have left would be a Bible condensed further than Reader's Digest editors could ever manage!
It's the same in the New Testament. Our Lord was a consummate storyteller. We're told that he never spoke publicly after the start of his ministry except in parables. As today's gospel reading indicates, the crowds couldn't get enough. Here, finally, was someone who spoke their language. Here was someone who made doctrine live. Here was someone who brought them in touch with God.
More than that, Jesus confirmed the truth of his testimonies with great acts of power. Even an evil spirit, lodged long in a helpless man, was no match for the acute vision and authoritative command of this storyteller. "Be quiet!" Jesus asserted and the demon could not talk. "Come out of him!" Jesus demanded and it was so. No wonder the news of this prophet was gossiped about all of Galilee.
Application
Someone once asked Malcolm Muggeridge what epitaph he might like on his gravestone. Muggeridge paused for just a moment, and then with a twinkle in his eye replied: "He used words well!" That's how Muggeridge wanted to be remembered.
I like that idea. In an age of video and the visual, it speaks of human interaction, of communication, of the power of words to elevate the soul. This is why we still need prophets among us and why Jesus, the prophet foretold by Moses, remains at the head of the class.
An old short story called "Wordsmith" tells of the coming of age of a young preacher. It describes him enjoying the sensation of words: "He rolled them off his tongue. He caressed them with his lips. He could feel the smoldering intensity of 'passion.' He trembled at the rumbling disquiet of 'mutter' and 'murmur.' His eyes grew misty at the thought of 'pride' and 'dignity' and 'honour.' "
Maybe that breed of speechmaker is vanishing. Still, as Rollo May pointed out in his book The Cry for Myth, what aches in the human heart is a longing for story, forged in the metal of language, that fashions for us identity and purpose. To put it in Northrup Frye's phrase, "words with power" give us life. Frye took his theme from Jesus' teaching, as Mark refers to it in today's gospel reading: "The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority." Surely there is something transcendent in the power of the word.
In the Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the term dabar means both "word" and "deed." Words are never static records, ciphers on a page. They are alive with energy. A word must act or do something in order to be word. "Scripture" is essentially pages from a diary in which God's Word has become the creative energy by which he lives. We search the alphabet from beginning to end (from Aleph to Taw in Hebrew) to find human terms to describe utterances unseen that have carried him along. The creative Word of God has been for us a boundary "law" of protection, a set of "statutes" that serve as pilot lights, "precepts" that create wisdom, "commands" that lead, and "promises" that draw toward the future. In short, the Word of God acts on us the way music operates on those magical little flowers you sometimes see in novelty stores: so long as there is sound, there is motion; so long as there is voice, there is identity; so long as there is Word, there is life.
Dr. Seuss (of children's books fame) once penned this verse:
It has often been said
there's so much to be read,
you never can cram
all those words in your head.
Maybe that's why the last and greatest Word of God, the great Wordsmith, became flesh and walked for a time with us. In him the "word" and the "deed" were one and the same thing. Truly you could say of him: "He used words well."
An Alternative Application
Mark 1:21-28. How shall we give the gift of hope and meaning to the next generation? We want our children to share the grace and the beauty and the power of God. We want them to live stronger and purer lives than he did. And we want to share with them the deepest mysteries of God's care and love. So should we write a book of doctrine? Organize a code of ethics? Slate a list of theological propositions?
Perhaps. But certainly along with these things we must tell a few stories. We need to describe some events from the past. We must dance about the room with an engaging tale. And when we're done with the storytelling, all that's truly necessary has been said. The mystery has been passed; the next generation shares the riches of grace.
Storytelling is still the best way to teach the young. We all know that. Our daughters couldn't wait to climb on our laps and have us read a story to them. Every night they needed another chapter from The Chronicles of Narnia or the Little House books or Winnie-the-Pooh before they went to bed.
Sometimes we seem to lose that thrill as we get older. We turn faith into doctrine and our relationship with God into a theological argument. Not long ago someone wondered to me if storytelling really had any place in sermons. I think that sometimes we find stories threatening because they demand involvement and response, and we'd rather not have our religion get to us that way.
Still, God comes to us by way of a story. Not in just the parables of Jesus or the narratives of the Bible. Jesus himself is the story of God. After all, John opens his gospel by saying that the "Word" of God was made flesh for us. Jesus is the complete story of God's love for us.
"To write a mighty novel you need a mighty theme!" said Herman Melville. And when you've got that mighty theme, you can't help but tell stories!
