Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany
Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Mark 1:21-28; I Corinthians 8:1-13
The words are familiar. I learned them in 9th grade and witnessed them again
the other evening at the Shakespeare Theatre. The great and proud Julius Caesar
strolls across the stage when from a side aisle comes a voice, “Beware
the Ides of March.” Caesar looks around him—asks his entourage what
that voice is—Again comes the cry, “Beware the Ides of March”
Caesar beckons the man dressed wildly and outrageous to come near. The seer
kneels before the conquering hero and repeats once more, “Beware the Ides
of March.” The prophecy and the fulfillment of the prophecy becomes a center
piece to the play, and the phrase lives into history. An
ancient prophet is given voice and the 15th of March was never the same again.
There have been prophets through out the history of humanity. Our Old Testament lesson for today takes us back to the first of Israel’s prophets—a leader of the people well known to most of us. The setting for our reading is the end of the life of Moses. This is after the people had been led by their God out of Egypt—they had passed through the wilderness and now they were close to the time of entering the promised land. Moses, who had lead the people, was soon to die—the people worried about what lay ahead. In our lesson Moses is identified as more than just a great leader—he is named a prophet—the first prophet so named in the Bible. A prophet—the voice of God in the midst of the people. Of all the roles Moses filled—military leader—miracle worker—priest—and prophet—the role of prophet was most significant. The prophet speaks for God—the prophet is brought close to the very face of God and becomes God’s voice. Israel feared that with the death of Moses there would no longer be any way to know what God would have them be and do.
As a church we believe in the ongoing disclosure of God’s will for the world. We believe that there are still those in our world today who by their words and deeds can bring us to new and deeper understandings of the future God would have us live. Our modern day prophets come in many forms. Some follow the model of the traditional dooms day seer like that in Shakespeare’s Julius Ceasar—a prophet whose cry is “beware” in the political and worldly arena. This is probably the most familiar image of a prophet. We know them best from scripture—major and minor prophets of the Old Testament. Voices that cry terror before death and destruction—judgment or retribution. The prophetic tradition places the voice of these prophets in the midst of the “haves” crying out for the “have nots." In our modern world this is the prophet voice that challenges us to greater concern for the hungry—the homeless—the environment—the weak, oppressed, abused and exploited. This is the prophet who has been making us as a Lutheran church stand with Africa fighting hunger and AIDS well before it arrived on the political agenda of world leaders. But we do not always know what we are hearing nor do we see what we should see.
Prophets are great when they are fortune tellers of events—Who wouldn’t want to know what the market is going to do tomorrow or next year? Who wouldn’t want to know when the next disaster will occur or war begin? But the prophet of God is not a predictor of fate but rather the voice of God to a particular moment or human condition. The challenge recognized in the ancient text from Deuteronomy is that for every true prophet there will also be false prophets—voices that presume to speak for God. Visions that claim to have God’s blessing yet lead us in directions that are hard to reconcile with any description in scripture of God’s kingdom. The voices we hear today are not easy to discern—our world is so complex and the words are often couched in the language of political correctness. Faced with modern prophets, we wonder about the motivations for the words or the character of the speaker, the very message that should challenge our way of thinking is often lost in the qualifiers and interpretations.
The other evening I heard another lively discussion about the death penalty. Governor Ryan declared a moratorium on the death penalty—then he commuted the death sentences of state prisoners. The discussion reflected the reaction of much of the media and many government officials who attempted to determine if this was a prophetic stance or a politically expedient position. There are subtle questions of sensitivity to the suffering of victim families and the trials of the felon. The challenge for people of faith is to measure the depth of God’s will in the actions of a limited and flawed human being. No prophet of the Old Testament was ever perfect. In fact, they were usually pretty peculiar. Could the divine in our modern world ever be present in prophetic form in the voice of a state governor—and if so, what does that mean to our response?
Israel worried about Moses departing and being left without a voice from God, things have not changed so much. We yearn for a clear cut answer. We want a prophetic truth to all our problems. What are we suppose to do about Iraq—North Korea—unemployment –the economy? On July 16, 1939 two foreigners arrived at the cottage home of the funny looking little man who was living on the island. What they needed from him was a word that they felt would save humanity and the world. When his words were first presented to the leader of the free world there were some who doubted—as one media report indicated—“sluggish bureaucrats and puny funding meant action came slowly.” But his words planted an idea in President Roosevelt’s mind. The prophetic word had been offered by a man of profound ideas and peace—his was a vision to unify the world—the cosmos. But the vision of wholeness in his unifying theories carried within them the shadow of the end of all things. He knew too well that the power to make whole also means power to destroy. So he knew that the truth he had discovered in his younger years was now poised to be used by world powers—the choice was not if but when and in what manner. Albert Einstein wrote the President of the United States in the midst of World War Two from his Long Island summer cottage a letter that warned of the application of his theories by foreign powers that he saw could lead to the development of a weapon unlike any that the world had ever known. Despite his desire for a world at peace Einstein recognized a need to deter by development. On October 9, 1941 the President ordered a crash program that would produce the first atomic bomb as the mathematical prophecy of Einstein had foretold.
What the ancient people of Israel feared has now become a very real part of our world. To see the truth in its fullest clarity was described in the ancient world as to gaze upon the very face of God. And it was believed that to see the face of God was to behold a truth and reality so pure and brilliant that no human could do so and live—except by the grace of God. Our modern world is driven by the desire to discover—define—explain—the very fabric of the universe. There are those who believe that the closer we look at the world around us the closer we look at the source of all that exists. When we break the atom and crack the genetic code we come that much closer to seeing the very face of God, and in doing so encounter both the glorious splendor of the divine image and the terror of death.
Yesterday morning I awoke listening to Public Radio and the report that the space shuttle Columbia was making final preparations for reentry and landing. I paid little attention until I heard a voice interrupt the regular programming. The report was from Houston. It simply said that the shuttle had disappeared off the radar screens. For the next few hours the nation waited—waited for authoritative word to give shape to the reality we all feared—Columbia was gone. The analysis will continue for months. Attempts will be made to explain what should have been known—what could have been anticipated to prevent this tragedy. There will be a search for prophetic promise that death will not revisit the space program in this form. This is the truest meaning of the prophetic in our world today—that by speaking the truth about the past and present we may discover a new future. The evil that so suddenly bursts into our world in the forms of death and destruction does not have the final word—it can be cast out of the future we would claim.
That is what Jesus brought to the people on that day at the synagogue in Capernum. Jesus stood up and spoke as one with authority. Jesus cast out the demons in the temple so that the people could hear more clearly the authoritative word of God. Our world is filled with demons that make so much noise that we can’t hear the truth—the confusion of the terror in the madness of the demonic leads us away from God’s word. We need to hear God’s voice—we yearn for the prophetic but the forces of the other overwhelm. Jesus said, “Come out” and the demon left. We also would be set free to hear the truth and power of God’s word—freedom to turn from the past—to be open to the future. Here we discover a most remarkable truth from the Old Testament—for from the beginning of the prophetic tradition described in our Old Testament lesson there is suggested a most frightening and wonderful possibility—the possibility that God can and will speak through any and all moments. The prophet is not a matter of intellect or leadership The prophet is the one God chooses. No one chooses to be a prophet—they are chosen by God—we are each potential prophets. We are each given visions of life and light—but with equal freedom to turn instead to death and follow other ways. We are all potential prophets—the very thoughts we are having at this instant may be the voice of God. God may be taking this very instant to speak to us—to invite us to become one with the Word and live God’s future.
We have each been called by God in our baptism to be a part of prophetic moments—to hear God’s word and become God’s voice. We are part of the long line of prophets who speak against all that threatens God’s world. One of my favorite movie scenes of all time is in the 60’s movie The Graduate when a corporate seer comes up to the young college graduate, Benjamin Braddock, and looking him squarely in the eyes says, “I have just one word for you—plastics.” We laughed when we should have invested. Last Sunday we heard of Jonah—his eight word message to the city of Ninevah proclaimed a truth that the people of Ninevah had to unpack into forms of repentance. No one laughed in Ninevah—the prophet was believed and the city was saved. The details are left to those who truly heard the prophetic word. When prophetic challenges are lay before us it is the prophetic direction that is most important. True prophets do not bring solutions but creative opportunities for response by people of faith. Ceasar died because he did not heed the prophetic word. Einstein was right even though he did not want to be. God has given us words upon words that would guide us into a holy future. We begin with the word in our lives. We begin with the word made flesh and received in the sacrament of Christ’s Table of Grace.
In the flash of a heavenly explosion I am haunted by a vision of God’s face—a vision not in some heavenly after life but in the wonder today’s prophetic words—words that give voice to God in concerns for justice and ways of peace—voice to God in ending human suffering of hunger, disease and war—voice to God in discovering the order and harmonies of our universe—in scientific exploration—artistic creativity—spiritual discipline. Moses said to the people, "The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people." Listen—Speak—The prophet voice is needed once again.
Amen.