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 4

Both "might" and "power" in the original Hebrew are masculine, however, the "Spirit" - Ruach - is feminine. There is a reason for this.

"Might" refers to resources of all kinds, whether in ourselves or in the world or between collectives of individuals. It assumes either skill, organisation, qualification, ability or an inward worthiness through qualification of some form. 'In ourselves' implies valour or bravery or some such quality highly valued. 'In the world' speaks of a force or unit of military or financial or manual resources, as such recognised and known by a distinct identity. 'Between us' is the 'system' of efficency or production or a network of labour that is ordered or works as a unit. These, together, are all the abilites that would normally be put to good use to complete any job. However, there is a divine embargo upon this 'might'. Not only this, but there is this embargo on any and every work of God that has the hallmark of the Spirit upon it . . . not just for Zerubbabel, not just for Zechariah - but for all of us.

One could not conceive of any mighty engineering project without many if not all of the above 'mights' being included. Indeed, this was how the Tower of Babel was constructed and assembled. Man builds, but God grows. It is man's remit to plant and to water, to tend and to care. For every work of God there is a season, but for man any time will do as long as it is now and quickly. One thing man will not do is wait. How often we work for God but without Him! How often is our divine host and midwife excluded from proceedings?

All these 'mights' existed before the commission came from God. We could quite easily fulfil this commission through these 'mights'; we could fulfil them for Him but without Him - once more asserting our independence and autonomy from God whilst serving Him! Such 'service' is an outrageous sin and usurping of God's authority, a setting aside of God's 'niavete' for our own sophistication and 'knowingness'. After all, we live in the real world, we know how things are done and achieved - otherwise nothing will happen! How can a Spirit build a temple? But we forget how He brooded over the waters and what came of that. Or is it that we want to make a name for ourselves? By using our education, our natural talents and skills, our coordinated effort, we want to serve God out of ourselves out of our convenience to show what we can do.

The question needs to be asked and answered; it is not enough to say I am going to use all these 'mights' for God. They may well be used, but it is not our place to choose them. Silence must come in the aftermath of the commission; reaching for the first tool to hand must stop. The "Not . . . " must sting us and shock us. This is a different project, wholly other, where the Eternal Spirit irrupts into this world; it must bear the distinctive of that same Spirit - not the world it manifests in. Until we are willing to let go of every competency we possess, and place them in limbo indefinitely, He will not use us in the work that will last. Undoubtedly, we could build skyscrapers and corporations and mega-churches but, when the fire comes, will they be stubble? The test is this: do we despise the small thing? Do we look down upon it and wince? The mustard seed? The wheatgerm? The stemcell? Or will we be like Jack and the Beanstalk?

The power of the Cross is the power not to do: we have the power to do something but we refuse to do it. We are silent; we are still in the face of the enemy; we stand and raise our hands; we call upon the name of the Lord; we consult the prophet and we obey. We are weak so that God can be our strength, and in that gap, that dark hopeless abyss of separation the Son of Man will rise. And if He is lifted up many will be drawn to Him.

Of Dreams and Log Jams Part 2

When I cogitate these log jams appear as symbols and metaphors in dreams; stories to unlock that I will think on for days and weeks after. They, at times - much to my shame - have a way of prizing open my heart in a way that undiluted scripture doesn't, a bit like a parable. They are impenetrable; I come up against a wall I cannot scale. I meet the end of my own understanding. I flounder in my own weakness and can't fathom it because I am in the flesh or using the power of my soul. Spiritual signs are spiritually discerned by the Spirit of God.

When we hear scripture we are in danger of thinking we know what it means and maybe apt to dismiss it. Characters with actions and metaphors with meaning are there to be understood and unlocked. It is because we are weak. If God were to speak plainly our conscious mind might object to it and reject it. His command would give a chance for disobedience. Reason it away and we will be in peril. God persuades us in story and anrrative. Then I am led full circle back to the scripture in the first place to say, 'Ahhh, that's what it means!'

One thing we mustn't do in public is admit our weaknesses; the show of 'faith' must go on. We must look competent and in control. Our weakness and emptiness is the door for the grace of God to get to work to fill us up. Let us hold to no pretense.

Our weakness is the beginning of dependence on God.