Prophetic Truths

Have you ever thought of yourself as a prophet? People usually think of a prophet as some sort of fortuneteller—a gifted one who can foresee the future. But that's not actually the case—especially in terms of a biblical prophet. A better understanding of prophets would likely help us realize that, sometimes, even we are called to help speak God’s truth.

Just last week, as part of our Sunday Salon discussion, Virginia, our former choir director, described a time when she did exactly that. It was in the middle of a meeting I had called with the choir last winter. I was delivering the news that we had yet to receive a single applicant for the choir director position, when Virginia found herself blurting out that Marian should apply.

Virginia called it a “movement of the Holy Spirit,” because it wasn’t something she had thought about beforehand, and, yet, she couldn’t not voice this truth. She said, “Marian, you should do this.”  Since you might be wondering if that’s really being prophetic, let’s look at the definition of a prophet, and you can make up your own mind.

This morning’s reading from the Hebrew Scriptures is referred to as the “Call of Jeremiah”, because it features the key components of a prophetic call. When someone like Moses, Isaiah, Ezekiel…even Mother Mary…are called by God, these steps are typically reported:

-        God’s initiating word

-        the person’s objection

-        the person’s chastisement of God

-        some reassurance from God

-        and, finally, the commissioning of the prophet[1]

It’s also said that the work of the prophet is not humanly ordained, rather, it’s a “divine compulsion”. The person is so open to God’s stirring that they don’t really think about what they’re saying, they simply speak. But, first, as we see in Jeramiah, the prophet-to-be archetypally refutes the possibility that they’re qualified. In this case, young Jeremiah argues, “But, I'm just a boy.” 

Of course, God rebuts, “Don't call yourself a boy.” Because here’s the thing, God isn’t interested in calling on people who rely on their own experience. God calls on people who are vulnerable enough to realize they will have to completely rely on God to do this thing God is calling them to do. So, God touches Jeremiah's lips, indicating the words will be provided—despite Jeremiah's age or lack of preparation.

In the book we’re reading in our Deep Dive group, Richard Rohr[2] explores the prophet’s purpose. He suggests that biblical prophets bid us to refocus on God, by highlighting where we’re out of alignment with God’s mission. Additionally, prophets reveal where injustice has been overlooked, which usually exposes the shadow side of leaders.

Richard Rohr also insists that, without a full understanding of the prophet’s purpose, we can't fully comprehend Jesus. This morning's gospel illustrates that argument. In this passage, Jesus, previously commissioned by God, continues the activities God has called him to. Jesus heals a woman who has not only been in horrible pain for 18 years, but would’ve been seen as broken and unworthy of being included in community activities.

He explains that the healing has “set her free from her bondage.” The religious leaders, however, insist no work should be done on the sabbath. In the way Jesus counters their complaints, we’re left with the impression that they aren’t as concerned with nurturing spiritual practices as they are about maintaining rules.

As often happens with people charged with overseeing an institution, they seem to have lost sight of bringing people closer to God. Rohr’s point is that Jesus acts and speaks in prophetic ways, asking people to, as he calls it, “pull back the veil” on the institutionalization of religion.

Rohr contends that Jesus was a revolutionary, speaking truth to power on a daily basis. But over the years, the idea of Jesus as a prophet evolved into a tamer version—a sort of “Jesus as my best friend”. Now, don’t get me wrong, I encourage us all to think of Jesus as a companion on the journey. But, let’s be clear—this kind of companion is not just warm and fuzzy. Jesus is the ultimate holy troublemaker.

Another component of a prophet’s purpose, as explained by Rohr, is that prophets often move from a place of anger and judgement, to, eventually, being more in-tune with God’s ways. Last week, Deacon Gigi introduced the idea of “sacred rage”. Similarly, in a daily meditation, also by Richard Rohr, the ideas of another theologian[3] were lifted up, explaining that rage can be thought of as a boundary of sorts.

That is, when we reach the limits of what we consider to be just and true, we will likely feel enraged. But, Rohr argues that as the recently-called prophet gains greater self-awareness and starts to inhabit ways of being informed by God, they become more Christ-like. They begin to love the people around them in the way God loves the world.

So, in his interactions with the institutional leaders, Jesus clearly feels rage. But he doesn't act from a place of raw emotion, raining down punishment. Sure, he points out their hypocrisy, but, more importantly, he calls on their compassion. Reminding them that rules have limits, Jesus says, “even you free your animals to get a drink…despite it being the sabbath.”

Now, Virginia wasn’t exactly feeling rage in the choir meeting that day, but she was, undoubtedly, frustrated. She has loved and cared about this congregation for years. She didn’t want her retirement to be hindered by anyone saying, “I’m not quite prepared,” so, she let God speak through her. In exchange, we have been enjoying Marian blossom into a fabulous choir director, supported by the talents of Anna, our new accompanist.

I use this example so that you can hear how, frequently, speaking God‘s truth doesn’t sound all that divine. It’s usually very simple, typically indisputable, and never wrapped in emotion. For example, years ago, while I was working in the hospitality industry, my boss came to me, explaining that people at a recent wedding reception had waved sparklers around inside the building. According to him, the ballroom carpet now had teeny-tiny burn marks in it.

But because the burns were negligible, instead of billing them for ruining the carpet, he made up a story about being fined by the fire department, and demanded the organizer reimburse us. The organizer, not surprisingly, asked to see a copy of the citation.

Since the fire department hadn’t actually issued a citation, my boss was standing in front of me, asking, “What should I do?” Without thinking, the words tumbled out of my mouth. I simply said, “Maybe don’t lie in the future.” Needless to say, he whipped around on his heel and left without a word!

Just to clarify, speaking God’s truth isn’t the same as being unfiltered and saying whatever comes to mind. Being prophetic is letting God’s truth be spoken through you, delivering the message from a place of love and compassion. That requires being self-aware enough to discern that we’re not just speaking because we have a strong opinion. Rather, as Thomas Aquinas once said, “If something is true, no matter who said it, it is always from the Holy Spirit.”

If you came to one of the post-sabbatical sharing parties, you heard an instrumental version of “Here I am Lord”, playing during the slideshow. It’s one of my favorite songs. The refrain goes like this: “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart.”

Those lyrics really wrap it up for us. It sounds like a lovely, sentimental hymn, but it’s a message of holy troublemaking. Like Jeremiah’s calling, we are being called to serve as God’s truth tellers in the world around us. And, as the Collect of the Day states, we do all of this “to show forth God’s power”—God’s power to love and bring mercy to everyone. So, we leave here with hearts and eyes wide-open, trusting if God is calling us, then God is also preparing us.

-AMEN


[1] Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 3, p. 365

[2] The Tears of Things

[3] Meggan Watterson

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