From Monday, I've started a one-on-one study with a student leader at Bethany Bible School. As our discussion circled around the theme of the Old Testament prophets, I shared with him certain "summaries" of the Old Testament Law. Of course, we discussed the centrality of the Shema, Deuteronomy 6:4-9, the commandment Jesus chose to summarize the Law, coupled with Leviticus 19:18. Also I pointed him to Micah 6:6-8, whose triad of "do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God" has been cited as the summation of the Law within the history of Jewish biblical interpretation. Other rabbis boiled Micah 6:8 down to Habakkuk 2:4: "the just shall live by faith." Quite naturally, therefore, our discussion highlighted the interrelatedness of faith, justice, mercy, humility, and love. To put it another way, what it means to have faith is to walk humbly with God, accordingly living justly with and showing mercy to others. That all sounds very much like loving God with all one's heart, soul, and might, and one's neighbor as oneself.
Within our study, my friend testified to me of Micah 6:8 that "this was his first time to see this verse." He also had this to say of the "minor prophets", the corpus of twelve prophetic books of which Micah and Habakkuk are two:
"They are not minor in meaning. They are very direct. I sometimes go into Christian bookstores and buy books with 200, 300 pages. But they don't say anything new. These books [the minor prophets] say far more in fewer words."
-Joe
Showing posts with label prophets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prophets. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
the significance of ascension
Last Thursday I was invited to give the meditation at an Ascension Day service.
I chose to focus on the similarities and differences between the ascension of Jesus Christ (Acts 1:1-11) and an Old Testament ascension, the ascension of Elijah (2 Kings 2:1-18).
Both the ascension of Elijah and the ascension of Jesus take place in the company of others. Jesus ascends from the presence of the eleven disciples on the Mount of Olives. Elijah ascends from the presence of his disciple, Elisha, on the far side of the Jordan River. In the Elijah narrative, however, it is not Elisha alone who is witness to the ascension of his master. At each stage of the journey toward Elijah being taken up to heaven, a "company of prophets" meets Elisha and asks him, "Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?" (2 Kgs 2:3, 5) From Jericho, the last point of departure before the Jordan, the company of prophets follows Elijah and Elisha at a distance, presumably to see what will happen (2 Kgs 2:7). While the company of prophets waits on the Jericho side of the Jordan, Elijah and Elisha cross over to the place from which Elijah then ascends in wind and fire. Though it was only Elisha who crossed over with his mentor, the company of prophets also seems to have known that Elijah ascended. When Elisha returns from the other side of the Jordan, the company of prophets recognize not only that "the spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha" but that "it may be that the Spirit of the Lord has caught [Elijah] up and thrown him down on some mountain or in some valley" (2:16). Thus, even though the company of prophets recognize that spiritual authority has passed from Elijah to another, their proposal to Elisha is to search for Elijah, as though to restore Elijah to his prior role. Elisha disapproves of their proposal, knowing that Elijah cannot return, yet under pressure permits the company to search.
The search of the company of prophets for the ascended prophet is mirrored in Acts 1 by the "looking up toward heaven" of the disciples after their ascended Lord. And, just as Elisha warned the company of prophets not to search for Elijah, so "two men in white robes" admonish the disciples not "to stand looking up toward heaven?" (Acts 1:10-11). Their message to the disciples left behind is a variation on Jesus' last words to them before he was taken up. The two men assure the disciples that Jesus will come again "in the same way as you saw him go into heaven", which is to say that for the time being Jesus has really departed from them as a person of flesh and blood. The disciples are not to look into heaven, for they cannot bring back the one whom God has taken away. Jesus, similarly, had just previously told the disciples that "it is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority" (1:7); just as the disciples' gazing toward heaven could not bring Jesus back, so the disciples' longing for Jesus to now "restore the kingdom to Israel" could not make it so (1:6). In either case, the disciples are looking for their leader and prophet to assume his prior position in their lives. Their desire with regard to Jesus is as the desire of the company of prophets with regard to Elijah; they wish to bring back to earth the ascended holy man.
Jesus' plan for his disciples' lives is entirely different from their own. Rather than doing the work of the kingdom in their stead, Jesus will empower the disciples to do God's work in his stead. "You", he says to the disciple band, the New Testament company of prophets, "will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (1:8). The work is no less Jesus', but the power for kingdom work and witness has been transferred from the one prophet of God to the many; witness moves from the flesh and blood body of Christ to the spiritual body of his followers. By the power of his Holy Spirit, the church will do the work of the kingdom of God until Jesus comes again.
Thus it is that the disciples realized in their lives what the company of prophets could not realize in theirs. Because they did not wish to see Elisha's master, their master, taken away, because they went looking for him rather than assume the responsibility of his mission, they did not receive, as Elisha did, the spirit that once rested on Elijah. But for the mercy of God through his messengers, the disciples of Jesus would have gone the way of the company of prophets. As it was, however, they remembered and heeded the words of Jesus "not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father" (Acts 1:4). Their commitment to follow Jesus was met with the power to follow Jesus from Jerusalem into the world at Pentecost.
In our own time, the church, like the company of prophets and the disciples gazing toward heaven, often rather cedes the work of God to holy individuals. The church too would rather search for Elijah than take up his mantle (see 2 Kgs 2:13). As a result, the spirit that might have passed to the whole company of God's people passes only to solitary Elishas. The Protestant ideal of the priesthood of all believers goes unfulfilled. In the words of John Howard Yoder, the church of "no one ungifted, no one not called, no one not empowered, and no one dominated" is "the reformation that has yet to happen."
One final word on the ascension of Jesus Christ: What is the significance of the ascension? The ascension lies between resurrection and Pentecost. The ascension makes possible the conferring of the power of the resurrection of Jesus to his followers at Pentecost. If Jesus does not go away, he cannot come to us by his Spirit. If he does not leave us empty through his ascension, he cannot fill us by his Spirit. Perhaps then the ascension of Jesus is a call to the church for preparation and purification in anticipation of empowerment for service and mission in the world.
-Joe
The quote from John Howard Yoder comes from Body Politics: Five Practices of the Christian Community Before the Watching World (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1992), pp. 59-60.
I chose to focus on the similarities and differences between the ascension of Jesus Christ (Acts 1:1-11) and an Old Testament ascension, the ascension of Elijah (2 Kings 2:1-18).
Both the ascension of Elijah and the ascension of Jesus take place in the company of others. Jesus ascends from the presence of the eleven disciples on the Mount of Olives. Elijah ascends from the presence of his disciple, Elisha, on the far side of the Jordan River. In the Elijah narrative, however, it is not Elisha alone who is witness to the ascension of his master. At each stage of the journey toward Elijah being taken up to heaven, a "company of prophets" meets Elisha and asks him, "Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?" (2 Kgs 2:3, 5) From Jericho, the last point of departure before the Jordan, the company of prophets follows Elijah and Elisha at a distance, presumably to see what will happen (2 Kgs 2:7). While the company of prophets waits on the Jericho side of the Jordan, Elijah and Elisha cross over to the place from which Elijah then ascends in wind and fire. Though it was only Elisha who crossed over with his mentor, the company of prophets also seems to have known that Elijah ascended. When Elisha returns from the other side of the Jordan, the company of prophets recognize not only that "the spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha" but that "it may be that the Spirit of the Lord has caught [Elijah] up and thrown him down on some mountain or in some valley" (2:16). Thus, even though the company of prophets recognize that spiritual authority has passed from Elijah to another, their proposal to Elisha is to search for Elijah, as though to restore Elijah to his prior role. Elisha disapproves of their proposal, knowing that Elijah cannot return, yet under pressure permits the company to search.
The search of the company of prophets for the ascended prophet is mirrored in Acts 1 by the "looking up toward heaven" of the disciples after their ascended Lord. And, just as Elisha warned the company of prophets not to search for Elijah, so "two men in white robes" admonish the disciples not "to stand looking up toward heaven?" (Acts 1:10-11). Their message to the disciples left behind is a variation on Jesus' last words to them before he was taken up. The two men assure the disciples that Jesus will come again "in the same way as you saw him go into heaven", which is to say that for the time being Jesus has really departed from them as a person of flesh and blood. The disciples are not to look into heaven, for they cannot bring back the one whom God has taken away. Jesus, similarly, had just previously told the disciples that "it is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority" (1:7); just as the disciples' gazing toward heaven could not bring Jesus back, so the disciples' longing for Jesus to now "restore the kingdom to Israel" could not make it so (1:6). In either case, the disciples are looking for their leader and prophet to assume his prior position in their lives. Their desire with regard to Jesus is as the desire of the company of prophets with regard to Elijah; they wish to bring back to earth the ascended holy man.
Jesus' plan for his disciples' lives is entirely different from their own. Rather than doing the work of the kingdom in their stead, Jesus will empower the disciples to do God's work in his stead. "You", he says to the disciple band, the New Testament company of prophets, "will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (1:8). The work is no less Jesus', but the power for kingdom work and witness has been transferred from the one prophet of God to the many; witness moves from the flesh and blood body of Christ to the spiritual body of his followers. By the power of his Holy Spirit, the church will do the work of the kingdom of God until Jesus comes again.
Thus it is that the disciples realized in their lives what the company of prophets could not realize in theirs. Because they did not wish to see Elisha's master, their master, taken away, because they went looking for him rather than assume the responsibility of his mission, they did not receive, as Elisha did, the spirit that once rested on Elijah. But for the mercy of God through his messengers, the disciples of Jesus would have gone the way of the company of prophets. As it was, however, they remembered and heeded the words of Jesus "not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father" (Acts 1:4). Their commitment to follow Jesus was met with the power to follow Jesus from Jerusalem into the world at Pentecost.
In our own time, the church, like the company of prophets and the disciples gazing toward heaven, often rather cedes the work of God to holy individuals. The church too would rather search for Elijah than take up his mantle (see 2 Kgs 2:13). As a result, the spirit that might have passed to the whole company of God's people passes only to solitary Elishas. The Protestant ideal of the priesthood of all believers goes unfulfilled. In the words of John Howard Yoder, the church of "no one ungifted, no one not called, no one not empowered, and no one dominated" is "the reformation that has yet to happen."
One final word on the ascension of Jesus Christ: What is the significance of the ascension? The ascension lies between resurrection and Pentecost. The ascension makes possible the conferring of the power of the resurrection of Jesus to his followers at Pentecost. If Jesus does not go away, he cannot come to us by his Spirit. If he does not leave us empty through his ascension, he cannot fill us by his Spirit. Perhaps then the ascension of Jesus is a call to the church for preparation and purification in anticipation of empowerment for service and mission in the world.
-Joe
The quote from John Howard Yoder comes from Body Politics: Five Practices of the Christian Community Before the Watching World (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1992), pp. 59-60.
Monday, February 6, 2012
sign of protection
As we did in 2010, we're leading a discipleship class at a local congregation, Harvest Time Ministries, on Wednesday evenings. Since largely the group has changed since we last taught the class, we're again beginning with lessons from the gospels, primarily from the parables of Jesus. The insight I'd like to report on here, however, comes not from my lesson but from the testimony of a man who was given a chance to speak after the lesson. The purpose of his speaking was to clarify some things to the church about why he had been absent recently, and to reaffirm his support of the pastor. Within that explanation, making a connection which I did not fully understand, the man narrated part of the story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel (1 Kings 18).
The man's narration climaxed in the detail about the self-lacerations of the prophets of Baal in their plea to their god. He contrasted their blood that flowed to no effect to the blood of Jesus which is "all that we need". I don't know all that was in the man's mind when he made this application; I do know that to even make the application suggests a need within the cultural setting to hear such a message. That need, I would guess, is the desire for healing of which the shedding of blood is often involved. The story describes how the prophets of Baal, "as was their custom . . . cut themselves with swords and lances until the blood gushed out over them" (1 Kgs 18:28). I immediately thought of the many people from this context who exhibit scars on their faces, signs of their own, or perhaps their parents', attempt to insert protective or healing traditional medicine (muthi) through incisions in the face. In such a setting, the blood (life) of Jesus that protects us without the shedding of more blood is good news indeed.
-Joe
The man's narration climaxed in the detail about the self-lacerations of the prophets of Baal in their plea to their god. He contrasted their blood that flowed to no effect to the blood of Jesus which is "all that we need". I don't know all that was in the man's mind when he made this application; I do know that to even make the application suggests a need within the cultural setting to hear such a message. That need, I would guess, is the desire for healing of which the shedding of blood is often involved. The story describes how the prophets of Baal, "as was their custom . . . cut themselves with swords and lances until the blood gushed out over them" (1 Kgs 18:28). I immediately thought of the many people from this context who exhibit scars on their faces, signs of their own, or perhaps their parents', attempt to insert protective or healing traditional medicine (muthi) through incisions in the face. In such a setting, the blood (life) of Jesus that protects us without the shedding of more blood is good news indeed.
-Joe
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
"in his chest"
Inspired from my reading of the prophetic literature earlier this year, I have since alluded in a few sermons to Jeremiah's description of his vocation: "If I say, 'I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,' then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (20:9). My paraphrase has been that the prophet, being one who is given the words of God, has no choice but to give also to others what God has given him. The prophet's particular mode of sharing--of not being selfish--is with words. If the prophet should keep those words to himself, within, those words will become death for him. The prophet will become sick, the prophet may die, if the prophet does not carry out the task to which he has been called.
Also three weeks ago, in Philipstown, a man from the church confirmed those words to me after the service. I had introduced the Isaiah text I was preaching on with something like the above introduction to the prophets generally. Responding to that, this man had said that he used always to be sick until he responded to God's call to begin preaching. He now enjoys full health.
The man's experience--we might call it the prophetic experience--has been well-testified throughout Africa by both Christians and non-Christians. In terms of the latter, the way of a person being called to be a traditional healer, a sangoma in southern Africa, is to become ill. The affliction, sent by the person's ancestors, will subside only when he or she consents to take up the practice. Christians too, although the most-committed ones disavow all practices related to the sangoma and seeking oracles from the dead, often interpret illness as a call to something new. Our pastor, for example, knows that he has a particular, nagging condition "in his chest" that will not go away until he finally makes the decision to go full-time in ministry.
Examples such as these might, at the very least, make westerners pause to consider whether certain illnesses suffered in one's body are, in any way, related to something amiss in one's spirit. Short of inciting a too-easy, one-to-one correlation between a person's sin and her sickness, this wisdom of Africa might at least cause us to re-examine ourselves before God.
-Joe
Also three weeks ago, in Philipstown, a man from the church confirmed those words to me after the service. I had introduced the Isaiah text I was preaching on with something like the above introduction to the prophets generally. Responding to that, this man had said that he used always to be sick until he responded to God's call to begin preaching. He now enjoys full health.
The man's experience--we might call it the prophetic experience--has been well-testified throughout Africa by both Christians and non-Christians. In terms of the latter, the way of a person being called to be a traditional healer, a sangoma in southern Africa, is to become ill. The affliction, sent by the person's ancestors, will subside only when he or she consents to take up the practice. Christians too, although the most-committed ones disavow all practices related to the sangoma and seeking oracles from the dead, often interpret illness as a call to something new. Our pastor, for example, knows that he has a particular, nagging condition "in his chest" that will not go away until he finally makes the decision to go full-time in ministry.
Examples such as these might, at the very least, make westerners pause to consider whether certain illnesses suffered in one's body are, in any way, related to something amiss in one's spirit. Short of inciting a too-easy, one-to-one correlation between a person's sin and her sickness, this wisdom of Africa might at least cause us to re-examine ourselves before God.
-Joe
Thursday, March 4, 2010
prophetic desperation
My last entry, on prophetic loneliness, ended by introducing another characteristic of the prophets--desperation.
I came to this realization in the course of teaching the topic last month. As I was desperately trying to communicate my message (as always, across vast language and cultural barriers), I sensed how the words and actions of the biblical prophets also reflected desperation.
For the small group activity, I had asked the students to find examples from the prophetic books that fit four categories of prophetic communication that I had identified from my own reading.
They are:
1. Analysis and Truth-telling. The prophet looks around at the world and observes that it is not as God designed it to be. Then the prophet tells the truth about the world. I think here of Amos, for example, in chapter 8:4-6. He identified the social situation of his time and decried it as it was.
2. Prophetic Displays/Dramatizations. The prophet enacts before the people the message he is trying to communicate to them. The prophet Hosea, for example, married a prostitute in order to show Israel that they were prostituting themselves with gods who were not God, with gods who neither loved Israel nor had married her (as Yahweh had) (Hosea 1-3).
3. Parables and Allegories. We think of parables in the ministry of Jesus, who certainly continued the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament. One of my favorite parables is that which Nathan told to David after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba and murdered her husband (2 Sam. 12)
4. Visions. The prophets saw visions and reported them. I chose to highlight Isaiah 6.
In the course of proclaiming again these texts, I realized a common thread: God is persistent in trying to reach God's people. God is desperate to turn the people back to himself. Consequently, God uses the prophets in many and various ways. If simple analysis and truth-telling does not get through, God will dramatize the people's sin before their very eyes; the prophet performs a drama. Where words cannot communicate, perhaps actions stand a chance. On the other hand, perhaps the limits do not lie with words but with the manner of words; not analysis but imaginative portrayal will get through. In desperate times--but not only desperate--only story, parable, hits home. Still, If even parable will not do, perhaps a vision of the Holy Itself will convince one of his sin. In the case of Isaiah, "a man of unclean lips living among a people of unclean lips", purification begins with the prophet.
There are doubtless many ways to tackle a subject as big as the prophets. For this time and place, this was mine.
-Joe
I came to this realization in the course of teaching the topic last month. As I was desperately trying to communicate my message (as always, across vast language and cultural barriers), I sensed how the words and actions of the biblical prophets also reflected desperation.
For the small group activity, I had asked the students to find examples from the prophetic books that fit four categories of prophetic communication that I had identified from my own reading.
They are:
1. Analysis and Truth-telling. The prophet looks around at the world and observes that it is not as God designed it to be. Then the prophet tells the truth about the world. I think here of Amos, for example, in chapter 8:4-6. He identified the social situation of his time and decried it as it was.
2. Prophetic Displays/Dramatizations. The prophet enacts before the people the message he is trying to communicate to them. The prophet Hosea, for example, married a prostitute in order to show Israel that they were prostituting themselves with gods who were not God, with gods who neither loved Israel nor had married her (as Yahweh had) (Hosea 1-3).
3. Parables and Allegories. We think of parables in the ministry of Jesus, who certainly continued the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament. One of my favorite parables is that which Nathan told to David after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba and murdered her husband (2 Sam. 12)
4. Visions. The prophets saw visions and reported them. I chose to highlight Isaiah 6.
In the course of proclaiming again these texts, I realized a common thread: God is persistent in trying to reach God's people. God is desperate to turn the people back to himself. Consequently, God uses the prophets in many and various ways. If simple analysis and truth-telling does not get through, God will dramatize the people's sin before their very eyes; the prophet performs a drama. Where words cannot communicate, perhaps actions stand a chance. On the other hand, perhaps the limits do not lie with words but with the manner of words; not analysis but imaginative portrayal will get through. In desperate times--but not only desperate--only story, parable, hits home. Still, If even parable will not do, perhaps a vision of the Holy Itself will convince one of his sin. In the case of Isaiah, "a man of unclean lips living among a people of unclean lips", purification begins with the prophet.
There are doubtless many ways to tackle a subject as big as the prophets. For this time and place, this was mine.
-Joe
Thursday, February 25, 2010
prophetic loneliness
I have an excess of material in my heart and mind from studying in preparation for teaching a lesson on "the prophets" for Bethany Bible School earlier this month. I gave a shortened version of what I did at BBS for our Tuesday evening fellowship group this week. The last two Sundays at Mandela Park I preached on the experience of two different prophets, Elijah and Isaiah. In the case of Elijah I focused on his showdown with the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18). In the case of Isaiah I found myself preaching on his call vision of the Lord in chapter 6.
Perhaps the unifying theme of the stories of Elijah and Isaiah is their loneliness. As people called to stand for their God, to speak his words to a rebellious people, they experience widespread, nearly total, rejection.
"To be a prophet is to be alone"--this is how I put it.
It is, therefore, precisely in their loneliness that the prophets embody the faithfulness that God intends for all his people. Standing for God, the prophets can no more rely for support on a people who have rejected God. The only thing, the only one, left for the prophet is the One. The prophet's support has been reduced to God. The prophet's only dependence is God. The prophet thus is privileged to know in his or her own person or very being that which is fundamentally true: that God is the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer of the universe. "There is no other", as God put it through Isaiah (Isa. 45:5).
One of the biggest dangers for my noble faith tradition, the Anabaptist, is mistaking the God who holds our life for the human community. Our language sometimes suggests that the community of the church is God. "We discern together," we say, "in the gathered community of believers". We speak as if this in itself is a safeguard against sin and the running amok of injustice, a balance of powers of sorts not unlike the set-up of the democracy in the land in which I have heard these words (America, the land of my earthly citizenship). We forget, however, that the early Anabaptists from whom we have inherited were not so much in their beginning an established faith community as they were a coming together of convicted individuals rebelling each in his own sphere against the rebellion of the established church. The Anabaptists were first and foremost lonely individuals, rejected at large by the culture in which they were born, eventually coming together to form an alternative community in the world. In the land of my birth, that alternative community is no longer alternative; it is dominant. The community has triumphed over the individual alone before her God.
The irony of all this is that the health of the community is dependent upon the holy loneliness of every one of its members. Every person needs to face that place in which they are rejected, in which the only one they have to go to is God. Each person needs to confront that one nagging fear, the avoidance of which has become his dependence, his security, his god. Only then, having found himself alone, does one discover that he is not alone. He is with his God. She is with her God.
In this light the cross of Jesus is the witness of prophetic loneliness par excellence. The crucifixion is the final cycle of prophetic loneliness opening up to holy communion. Jesus experiences on the cross that which he experienced numerous times on the way to the cross. Alone with the tempter in the desert, eventually finding strength in the Word of God. Deserted by companions in Gethsemane, persevering in prayer to his "Abba". Finally, on the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" ends in "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Mk. 15:34; Lk. 23:46). The final experience of human loneliness is God's fullest embrace. Loneliness and communion are two sides of the same coin in the life of God.
The prophet knows that life, and he is desperate for others to know what he knows.
-Joe
Perhaps the unifying theme of the stories of Elijah and Isaiah is their loneliness. As people called to stand for their God, to speak his words to a rebellious people, they experience widespread, nearly total, rejection.
"To be a prophet is to be alone"--this is how I put it.
It is, therefore, precisely in their loneliness that the prophets embody the faithfulness that God intends for all his people. Standing for God, the prophets can no more rely for support on a people who have rejected God. The only thing, the only one, left for the prophet is the One. The prophet's support has been reduced to God. The prophet's only dependence is God. The prophet thus is privileged to know in his or her own person or very being that which is fundamentally true: that God is the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer of the universe. "There is no other", as God put it through Isaiah (Isa. 45:5).
One of the biggest dangers for my noble faith tradition, the Anabaptist, is mistaking the God who holds our life for the human community. Our language sometimes suggests that the community of the church is God. "We discern together," we say, "in the gathered community of believers". We speak as if this in itself is a safeguard against sin and the running amok of injustice, a balance of powers of sorts not unlike the set-up of the democracy in the land in which I have heard these words (America, the land of my earthly citizenship). We forget, however, that the early Anabaptists from whom we have inherited were not so much in their beginning an established faith community as they were a coming together of convicted individuals rebelling each in his own sphere against the rebellion of the established church. The Anabaptists were first and foremost lonely individuals, rejected at large by the culture in which they were born, eventually coming together to form an alternative community in the world. In the land of my birth, that alternative community is no longer alternative; it is dominant. The community has triumphed over the individual alone before her God.
The irony of all this is that the health of the community is dependent upon the holy loneliness of every one of its members. Every person needs to face that place in which they are rejected, in which the only one they have to go to is God. Each person needs to confront that one nagging fear, the avoidance of which has become his dependence, his security, his god. Only then, having found himself alone, does one discover that he is not alone. He is with his God. She is with her God.
In this light the cross of Jesus is the witness of prophetic loneliness par excellence. The crucifixion is the final cycle of prophetic loneliness opening up to holy communion. Jesus experiences on the cross that which he experienced numerous times on the way to the cross. Alone with the tempter in the desert, eventually finding strength in the Word of God. Deserted by companions in Gethsemane, persevering in prayer to his "Abba". Finally, on the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" ends in "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Mk. 15:34; Lk. 23:46). The final experience of human loneliness is God's fullest embrace. Loneliness and communion are two sides of the same coin in the life of God.
The prophet knows that life, and he is desperate for others to know what he knows.
-Joe
Thursday, April 2, 2009
three tents or the tent?
"But Jesus talked to his ancestors."
I once heard a former missionary in Africa narrate this response of members of an independent church.
The story, of course, that they had in mind was the transfiguration of Jesus (Mk. 9:2-8; Mt. 17:1-8; Lk. 9:28-36).
It seems a compelling point.
The gospel texts, however, do not exactly state that Jesus was talking with his ancestors, in the case of the story, Elijah and Moses. On the contrary, as Mark puts it, "there appeared to them Elijah with Moses talking with Jesus." That is, the action in the narrative flows from the great Jewish forefathers toward Jesus; they appear with him; he does not appear with them. The distinction is so subtle as to escape notice, yet may prove significant.
Regardless, what is of first significance in the gospel witness is not who appears alongside Jesus but to whom the vision appears.
"And there appeared to them . . ." It was to them, that is, to Peter, James, and John--Jesus' disciples--that Moses and Elijah appeared alongside Jesus. Moreover, it is to their response that the gospel witness clings.
Peter, for his part, musters a response to the revelation on behalf of those with whom--James and John--he is "terrified."
"Rabbi [or "Lord": Mt.: "Master": Lk.], it is good for us to be here; Let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
Even if, however, Peter, according to Mark and Luke (though not Matthew), "did not know what he was saying", he nonetheless stumbles upon the critical issue--though not the solution.
Peter is right: the revelation of Jesus "in glory" (Lk. 9:31, 33) with Moses and Elijah has everything to do with tents.
Surely, for example, the appearance of Moses alongside Jesus only confirmed for Peter that which it immediately succeeds: the change--the transfiguration--of Jesus' appearance, his face, as Matthew puts it, "shining like the sun, his clothes as white as the light."
For Peter, the appearance of Moses quite naturally seals the transfiguration of Jesus, for the face of Moses also used to shine "whenever he went in before the Lord to speak with him" (Ex. 34:29-35). Originally, of course, Moses' encounter with God on behalf of Israel took place on Mt. Sinai. Subsequently, however, the presence of God would descend "outside" the place wherever the wandering Israelites had encamped, to the Tent of Meeting where Moses would go to speak "face to face" with the Lord (Ex. 33:7-11).
Far from irrational, therefore, Peter's comments are more than rational. He sees the shining light in the face of Jesus. He sees Moses. He knows that God has descended upon the mountain. He offers, like Israel in the desert and later in Jerusalem, to set up a tent of meeting--a temple--wherein the presence of God might regularly speak for the sake of the people.
On the other hand, Peter is not yet convinced that God is really for the people; he, and the others with him, "are terrified." They, like their ancestors in the desert, cry to Moses, "you speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die" (Ex. 20:19). For Peter, the presence of God is mediated through holy men in holy places.
As a result, when a cloud--and from the cloud a voice--overshadows them as Peter is still speaking, it is more rebuke than interruption: not more holy men (three, as Peter would have it) are needed, but One Mediator; not more holy places, but One Tent of Meeting.
"This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him."
But who is "this"? Who is "him"?
Until the cloud overshadows them, three men are visible to the disciples. One, Moses, established the pattern of prophethood in Israel. Of him it was once said, "I will raise up a prophet like you from among your own people. Listen to him" (Dt. 18:15). If, however, Moses was the original, Elijah could lay claim to the fulfillment; on him was bestowed a status not even Moses enjoyed: translation to heaven apart from death (2 Kgs. 2:11).
Yet neither of these is "the Beloved Son."
"Suddenly when [the disciples] looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but Jesus alone."
Jesus is the "prophet like Moses" whom God would "raise up"--though Moses could not have guessed how literally true that would prove. Jesus is the prophet unlike Elijah, if for the very reason prophesied by Moses: he would be "raised", that is, from--not apart from--the dead.
Thus we see, as the disciples before us, that Jesus did not approach Moses and Elijah. Moses and Elijah pointed to him.
Even the ancestors cry, "listen to him."
-Joe
I once heard a former missionary in Africa narrate this response of members of an independent church.
The story, of course, that they had in mind was the transfiguration of Jesus (Mk. 9:2-8; Mt. 17:1-8; Lk. 9:28-36).
It seems a compelling point.
The gospel texts, however, do not exactly state that Jesus was talking with his ancestors, in the case of the story, Elijah and Moses. On the contrary, as Mark puts it, "there appeared to them Elijah with Moses talking with Jesus." That is, the action in the narrative flows from the great Jewish forefathers toward Jesus; they appear with him; he does not appear with them. The distinction is so subtle as to escape notice, yet may prove significant.
Regardless, what is of first significance in the gospel witness is not who appears alongside Jesus but to whom the vision appears.
"And there appeared to them . . ." It was to them, that is, to Peter, James, and John--Jesus' disciples--that Moses and Elijah appeared alongside Jesus. Moreover, it is to their response that the gospel witness clings.
Peter, for his part, musters a response to the revelation on behalf of those with whom--James and John--he is "terrified."
"Rabbi [or "Lord": Mt.: "Master": Lk.], it is good for us to be here; Let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
Even if, however, Peter, according to Mark and Luke (though not Matthew), "did not know what he was saying", he nonetheless stumbles upon the critical issue--though not the solution.
Peter is right: the revelation of Jesus "in glory" (Lk. 9:31, 33) with Moses and Elijah has everything to do with tents.
Surely, for example, the appearance of Moses alongside Jesus only confirmed for Peter that which it immediately succeeds: the change--the transfiguration--of Jesus' appearance, his face, as Matthew puts it, "shining like the sun, his clothes as white as the light."
For Peter, the appearance of Moses quite naturally seals the transfiguration of Jesus, for the face of Moses also used to shine "whenever he went in before the Lord to speak with him" (Ex. 34:29-35). Originally, of course, Moses' encounter with God on behalf of Israel took place on Mt. Sinai. Subsequently, however, the presence of God would descend "outside" the place wherever the wandering Israelites had encamped, to the Tent of Meeting where Moses would go to speak "face to face" with the Lord (Ex. 33:7-11).
Far from irrational, therefore, Peter's comments are more than rational. He sees the shining light in the face of Jesus. He sees Moses. He knows that God has descended upon the mountain. He offers, like Israel in the desert and later in Jerusalem, to set up a tent of meeting--a temple--wherein the presence of God might regularly speak for the sake of the people.
On the other hand, Peter is not yet convinced that God is really for the people; he, and the others with him, "are terrified." They, like their ancestors in the desert, cry to Moses, "you speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die" (Ex. 20:19). For Peter, the presence of God is mediated through holy men in holy places.
As a result, when a cloud--and from the cloud a voice--overshadows them as Peter is still speaking, it is more rebuke than interruption: not more holy men (three, as Peter would have it) are needed, but One Mediator; not more holy places, but One Tent of Meeting.
"This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him."
But who is "this"? Who is "him"?
Until the cloud overshadows them, three men are visible to the disciples. One, Moses, established the pattern of prophethood in Israel. Of him it was once said, "I will raise up a prophet like you from among your own people. Listen to him" (Dt. 18:15). If, however, Moses was the original, Elijah could lay claim to the fulfillment; on him was bestowed a status not even Moses enjoyed: translation to heaven apart from death (2 Kgs. 2:11).
Yet neither of these is "the Beloved Son."
"Suddenly when [the disciples] looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but Jesus alone."
Jesus is the "prophet like Moses" whom God would "raise up"--though Moses could not have guessed how literally true that would prove. Jesus is the prophet unlike Elijah, if for the very reason prophesied by Moses: he would be "raised", that is, from--not apart from--the dead.
Thus we see, as the disciples before us, that Jesus did not approach Moses and Elijah. Moses and Elijah pointed to him.
Even the ancestors cry, "listen to him."
-Joe
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