The First Prophet: Abel - Part 1

This is the very seed and beginning of what it means to be truely prophetic.  No matter what we think of the Prophet or the Prophetic, we must deal with its inception in the bloodline of humanity. Here, it starts with Abel, and the first expression of anything in scripture is the anchor for anything that follows (Matthew 24:34-35). Take heed if you wish to understand the 'Prophetic'. The Prophet comes first before the Prophetic, from which it derives its nature and name. To be sure, the Prophet always comes first before the Prophetic: the noun - then the adjective; the Person - then the People. The whole house, the whole Nave and Ark rest upon such men who are laid in the dirt . . . and here is the deepest of them, the lowliest of them, the first of them. LISTEN! He still speaks. And the prophet can never speak unless it is by "the blood".

Born to an avaricious woman, who kept a superficial faith despite seeing the Lord God face-to-face, Abel was the younger of two bothers who may have been inconsequential to his mother - given his name: breath, vapour, vanity, emptiness, transitory . . . one might even add "pointless". A second labour for Eve could not have been easy, and no doubt the novelty of bearing another man had worn thin. Could Eve's naming of Abel (she named Cain) truely reflect her state of mind, that the burden of life on earth was exhausting? Did this affect how she saw her weaker son? If so, was it that Cain picked up on this? That from Cain's mother Cain absorbed - from young - the entitlement and right to possess and to have. To this point, I doubt Eve experienced pain like this and the words of the Lord God would have echoed sourly in her ears: "I will greatly multiply your pain in childbirth, In pain you will bring forth children." (Genesis 3:16) Was her heart barren and empty for her younger son? Indeed, she had the fine, strong Cain; why would she need another? It was not until Abel's untimely and cruel removal would her heart be provoked to mourn for her son, but too late. Abel's evident weakness at birth belied his strength, yet provoked Eve's disgust and contempt for the first weak human on earth; Adam and Cain were magnificent specimens of physical humanity. Eve relished the physical; she could see little else. The breath that she thought so fleeting that would soon evaporate was the very stuff of life itself.

It is into and from such situations that a prophet is born: whether in family, community or national estrangement; whether in self-doubt or ideological barrenness. He is given into such circumstances as an unacknowledged gift, and out of those circumstances is he formed. He is the goodness that comes out of the cradle of sin, totally ignorant of his effect on those around him. Even his mother considers abandoning him for the pain he inadvertantly inflicts upon her. He is wanted by no one. This, and this alone is the hallmark of the Prophet: complete and utter weakness.

'Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,' Part 7

This Word spoken to Zerubbabel is the Cross; it is the Gospel. And only in standing on the Mount of Olives and looking back and down to the Mount of Zion do we see it - in embryo, in seed form, but it is perfectly formed. Only from the Mount of Olives do we truly 'see': from the Mount of Unction from whose ancient olive trees was the anointing oil of the Priests and Kings of Israel refined; to which David fled, barefoot like a priest, when fleeing from his son, Absalom; in whose dusty soil the tears and blood-sweat drops of Jesus fell; whose shaded walkways canopied the pathways of Jesus' feet from Bethany to Jerusalem; on whose trinity of mountain tops Solomon built altars to Chemosh and Molech; on whose defiled and detestable altars the reformer Josiah crushed human bones; and from whose lofty top Jesus ascended, and to which He shall return. If we do not 'see' from here, we do not 'see' at all. If we do not weep over her stones and take pity on her dust, we will never 'see' what Jesus saw and never 'see' as Jesus sees.

It is only from here, seeing through time, do we 'see'. The whole of Jerusalem stands in the shadow of the Mount of Olives - literally: the largest of the seven hills of Jerusalem, rising in the east, always beyond the Kidron Valley, always on the outside of Jerusalem. Only from outside do we see the City of God in context as she truly is: the site of idolatery, sacrifice, defilement, promise, anointing and salvation: death and resurrection together - valley and mountain.

The stone that Zerubbabel laid was Christ: first the foundation stone, then the capstone. Only the latter was cause for celebration; however, the day of small beginnings is always despised. It is always a humiliation first before it is a glory. And we know that no building of any significance in the ancient world was never established without sacrifice - including the pagan world, moreso the pagan world! So it is the same with Christ: the first to be laid and the last to finish the work that He inaugurates. He is the First and the Last in All Things, so it must be in the church. Of late, the foundation stone has been purely ceremonial and decorative, something for mayors to bless. It is often seen with a conspicuous inscription, facing outward and to the public commemorating a moment in time when the great and good cut a ribbon. Such a stone is functionless. Nothing rests on such a stone; it has migrated upward and away from an inconspicuous corner to seek the light of fame and glory. Not so the True Cornerstone: laid in the dust of a once proud but emasculated mountain, from Whom the whole house rises, to Whom the whole house refers and adjusts itself, hidden and buried in an obscure corner - the meeting of two axes where He hung His head. And because He takes the lowest place He is given the highest honour; He is the Capstone.

The question remains: not, have we migrated upward, but the the real question we must answer before we lay any stone at all: have we rejected Him? We would cry No! Of course not!, but such a cornerstone is apt to be rejected by builders, it often fails the examination on the basis of man's criteria. The cornerstone must never be referred to our standards, or measured by us, or our prejudices allowed to sway its selection. The Cornerstone I speak of was rejected and despised and was esteemed not. They took offence in that stone because it did not fit, but we are called to make Him our True North; He is the bottom and top, the First and the Last. If we are to be the ground and pillar of truth we must be laid down with Him. Why did the builders reject such a stone? It was mis-shapen and apparently 'crooked'; it was not showy enough: they wanted something to be displayed. They would have to individually cut every stone to fit around it; it would be too much work. The Cornerstone is the reference point. We may think we lay the stone but Zerubbabel is the only one called to and he is Christ.