Keep silent— A meditation on prophets & prophecies

“Keep silent!”

(Amos 8:3c)

“…and they will never be uprooted again.”

(Amos 9:15)

Keep silent!  Last time I was reflecting on the fascinating question of who was actually speaking in the Bible, especially when it was supposed to be God.  But now, I am wondering:  Who is being spoken to?  The other morning, sitting on the porch with my coffee and my Bible, waving to the few people who walk by at 6:45 in the morning, listening to the cars pass on the distant tollway, and wondering what will be for breakfast, I was reading this section of Amos and getting kind of lulled into a scriptural stupor by all the woes and unto yous and thus says the Lords –as often happens when I am reading—my mind began to wonder. I probably was starting to drift off into a daydream of famine and drought, locust and destruction when all of a sudden I read:

That day, the palace songs

will turn to howls,

--declares the Lord, Your God—

the corpses will be many

that are thrown down everywhere.

Keep silent!

And I was startled out of my drowsing.  I was stunned by how direct that final command felt. And my immediate thought was: who is God talking to?

Was He talking to the Israelites who are howling in their palaces and throwing bodies everywhere?  Telling them to hold it down; what did they expect after all their sin and betrayal?  Was He talking to Amos?  Telling the prophet to keep this horrible secret to himself; i.e. Keep this between us! Don’t speak a word! Don’t tell the Israelites what is in store for them! Let it be a surprise.

A little research and I soon discovered that other translations have interpreted that “Keep silent” as a description of how the bodies of the slaughtered will be disposed: “Many shall be the bodies. They shall cast them forth in silence.” (NASB)

But I was still struck by that “Keep silent.” It sat there in front of me; a directive, a command even.  And I couldn’t help but wonder, if this is God’s word, in the end isn’t God really talking to me?  I was the one reading it? I was the one whose mind was wandering. Whose head was full of blue jays and car sounds and strollers and scrambled eggs. I was the one who was drifting aimlessly through God’s word, watching only for some new phrase to hang another essay on.  I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy being distracted by all the voices in my head…

Keep silent.

And from that moment on, I was focused. The voices inside me, the distracted anxious voices telling me I was wasting my time stopped. They were quiet. Even that voice that kept asking about those dishes in the sink from last night. Shouldn’t I get to those first. After I finished those dishes and made another pot of coffee, then I’d be able to give the Word of God the attention it deserved! Then… then… then… For the moment, they were all still. Silent.  And I read on.

Toward the end of Amos there is a beautiful simple statement:

“…and they will never be uprooted again.” (9:15)

Reading that I began to ponder anew: In hindsight what does a statement like that mean to a people who were to see their temple destroyed, their kingdom conquered, and so many dragged off into exile? A people who have (it seems) never really known the kind of stability it seems to promise; at least not for over 2500 years?   

It comes at the end of a prophecy of destruction; God’s wrath unleashed.  And yet God promises to plant them in their own soil and “they will never be uprooted again.” It seems to be a promise of peace and harmony, of permanence and stability in Israel. And yet, reading this promise 2500+ years later, one has to ask:  Is it just some words in a story? Is it a fairy tale? Some kind of magical thinking? Or worse, a lie? 

If it is a prophecy of God’s chosen people finding permanence and stability in the Promised Land, then it seems like foolishness. Historically the Jews have been displaced time and again.

But, as I sat –being silent—quietly contemplating this phrase, I began to wonder: is it possible God means something else entirely? Is it possible God is speaking not to a limited group of people here, but to all of His people everywhere.  Is it possible that this promise, though made specifically through the prophet Amos to the people of Israel, was actually meant to transcend that time and place; was meant not for a specific tribe or race, but for all God’s children? It is a promise to all of us, from God, that we can never again be uprooted; because He has planted us beyond the reach of the one who would uproot us. 

The LOVE of God became flesh, became a gardener (cf. John 20:15), a gardener who plants the seed so deep and so true it can never be uprooted. And His plow, His shovel, His spade, is the Cross. By His plow He opens the universe, opens eternity, opens even His own heart, and plants us so deeply within His love that we can never again be uprooted.

It is not by our efforts that we are saved, not by our lack of sin, but simply by His love, His grace, His Cross.  The peace, the harmony, the stability comes not from our prayers, not from our fasting or sacrifices, not from any restraint or self-control on our part, but from God’s love.

However, teaching our ears to hear and appreciate the harmony and beauty in God’s love takes some effort, at least for some of us.  We can’t find peace in it while we are letting our ego wnder, our eyes wander, our desires wander freely, and so we may find ourselves tugging at our own roots, agitated by wants and old nurtured longings.  And so, in such cases, we may find that prayer and fasting make good choir masters for the soul. They can help us train our ear to hear in God’s mysterious melody a beauty and glory we could never imagine on our own. All our desires are fulfilled in it, this endless glorious song of permanence and peace, if only we allow ourselves to hear it. 

If only we “keep silent” and listen.

What kind of God is this? Thoughts on Job and "the heart of the tempest"

“So, the Lord said to Satan... Did you pay any attention to my servant Job?”

–Job 1:7-8

“Then from the heart of the tempest, the Lord gave Job His answer.”

--Job 38:1

From the heart of the tempest, the Lord gave Job His answer.  Out of the heart of the tempest comes the Lord’s answer.  This feels key.

There are two aspects of the Book of Job that are particularly troubling to me:

1.      What kind of God would do this or allow this to happen to His beloved servant? To anyone? Is He malevolent, or just an underachiever?

2.      The Lord’s response.  What is the meaning of God’s “answer” to Job? Or, to put it more concisely: what is God’s answer?

Speaking out of the tempest (aka. storm; whirlwind) God makes no defense of His actions (or inaction).  He offers no explanation of what has happened to Job, to his family, his slaves, his livestock; though God allowed all of it  –even instigated it (in some interpretations).  No. Instead of defending or explaining Himself, God shows up in the midst of some great storm wind, and presents Job with a series of unanswerable questions:

Where is the storehouse of snow? The house of light? Darkness? Can you fasten the stars? Untie them? Will rain fall at your command? Lightning come at your call? Will the wild ox be your pet? Behemoth? Leviathan? What about the glorious horse—did you make that? Surely you did!

At times He even takes an ironic tone, taunting and challenging Job to let it all hang out; take your best shot!

“Come on, display your majesty...

let the fury of your anger burst forth...” (40:10-11)

Though, God never explains Himself, somehow these confounding questions seem to satisfy Job.  How?  I’ve been wondering about that.  There are a couple of possible answers that come to mind: first, that Job is so intimidated by God’s awesomeness that he covers his mouth and retreats—basically acknowledging that he can’t compete with God. In other words, on some level he’s been beaten into submission. Or, second, that somehow God’s response actually satisfies Job, answers the essential question he’s been asking for app. 37 chapters: Why? Why would God do this to his faithful servant?

For the longest time I fell somewhere in the middle of all this. I had kind of stumbled around the edges of this beautiful ancient text assuming that on some metaphorical or allegorical or spiritual level what satisfied Job was God’s awesomeness.  That –yes, he was frightened into submission; putting his hand over his mouth as a way of acknowledging the vulnerability of his position: I’m not worthy…  BUT, somehow the inscrutableness of God’s presence not only intimidates Job, but also satisfies him.

Now, however, I find myself stuck on that tempest, caught by the image of God’s answer coming “from the heart of the tempest.”  Is it possible that where God speaks from is part of the answer that satisfies Job? That God’s answer comes “from the heart of the tempest…”   

 

Let me put this into a little context.  Last week my wife was preparing to teach the beatitudes to her classes, and on the way home we were talking in the car, trying to recall all 8 beatitudes and see if we could put in teachable words the blessedness that arises out of each.  Pretty quickly we got hung up on mourning. 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” –Matthew 5:4

Inspired by Pope Benedict’s Jesus of Nazareth books and The Ladder of the Beatitudes by Jim Forest, I was speculating on how mourning was somehow positively attached to the identity of Christ, to His presence. He mourned (& wept), and therefore to be like Him…  But I couldn’t even convince myself.  I couldn’t make the connection stick in my own head.  That whole night I was troubled by a kind of sour feeling of my own failure; as if I knew something was true but couldn’t prove it and it was eating at me.  I suspected that somehow I was just wrong; my whole idea of Jesus and the beatitudes was wrong.  And there was also that sting of embarrassment. Here I was trying to say something profound and yet… I couldn’t.  Of course, that isn’t news to anyone who reads these posts.  But, the next morning, I opened my Bible and read:

“Then from the heart of the tempest, the Lord gave Job His answer.”

--Job 38:1

And I almost slapped myself. That was what I was trying to say!  It is from the storm, from the heart of the tempest that God speaks to us.  Why is it blessed to mourn?  Because when we are mourning, we are entering into the heart of the tempest.  There –in the midst of life’s storms, in the heart of the tempest—the Lord will speak to us; He gives us His answer.  It comes out of the heart of the tempest.  Which says to me, that God’s long list of awe-inspiring questions and imagery is only part of His answer to Job. God reveals Himself not only through this series of questions, but also through how He shows up.  God reveals Himself through the storm, through the strife, in the heart of the tempest He reveals Himself.  On the road to Calvary, He reveals Himself…

So—of course—Yes! Blessed are they who mourn; of course, they will be comforted –because in their mourning God reveals Himself to them.  It is in the mystery of mourning that God’s mysterious nature may be glimpsed; and our insufficiency made ineluctably clear.   

Which sends me back to my other question: what kind of God would do this to His beloved servant?  I guess the same kind of God who would send His only begotten Son to die for the sins of others.  That cry from the cross: My God, my God, Why hast thou forsaken me? is prefigured in the questioning of Job, the demanding of God to show Himself. 

So, in our suffering, in our mourning, perhaps we are being offered a chance to see Christ, to see God, and to be comforted by knowing we too have a part in His cross.  We share in His grace. We share in His mystical body.  And to know that, is to be blessed.  

He is near

18 Nov 18

Some thoughts on the Gospel for the 33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

“...when you see these things happening:

know that He is near.”  --Mark 13:24-32

The Mass readings this Sunday were full of apocalyptic language, imagery.  The reading from Daniel (12:1-3) contained distress and resurrection imagery and the Gospel tells of Jesus warning his disciples of a coming time when “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will give no light, and the stars will be falling from the sky...”  And then, using a lesson from the fig tree, the Lord tells them:

When you see these things happening: know that He is near.

During the homily our priest reminded us that apocalyptic is often mistaken for prophecy –i.e. telling us what will happen in the future—but that it was actually more like a form of commentary --telling the reader about things that were actually happening; commenting on the situation at hand.  For instance, we were taught in seminary that the Book of Revelation isn’t actually about some future cataclysm and judgment, but was actually about the Roman persecution the early Christians.  Though we commonly use it to speak of the end of the world (movies like World War Z, Snowpiercer, Mad Max, Soylent Green, The Day After Tomorrow are commonly referred to as apocalyptic), the word itself is from the Greek and means to reveal or uncover.  The Latin version of this same word—revelation—means to disclose or uncover; to remove the veil.  As Father was saying this morning; these types of writings were not intended to predict the future, but to comment on the present –to uncover or reveal some truth about the present.  And that got me thinking:  in His lesson to His disciples the Lord says:

Learn a lesson from the fig tree.  When its branch becomes tender and sprouts leaves, you know that summer is near.  In the same way, when you see these things happening, know that He is near, at the gates.

But what are these things? What are these signs?  The sun grows dark, and the moon no longer gives light, and the stars are falling from the sky.  If these signs are not meant to be signs of some universal cataclysm, signs of the end of the world, of the sun literally going dark and the stars literally falling from the heavens-- then what are they?

First—I don’t think God speaks in code. I don’t think we have to be scholars to understand His word.  But, we do have to be willing to think.  Think about a time in your own life when the sun seemed to have stopped shining and the darkness seemed to only grow darker.  The stars, the things that seemed constant and unchanging, people or situations you depended on for guidance and to help you steer your life, seemed to be falling from the sky –no longer dependable or trustworthy...  How did you feel? Afraid? Alone? Helpless? As if your world were coming to an end?

On a personal level we all experience times like that.  Times of trial and distress.  Times when our mentors and heroes fail us, or we fail ourselves.  Lost job. Sickness. Death. Even emotional disappointments can seem like the end of the world.

However, on a larger scale, something like this is happening in the Church today.  Scandal after scandal seem to rock the very foundations of the Church. Around the world. Not only priests, but bishops and cardinals (and possibly the Pope) are falling from the sky.  Once these men were stars of a kind, held up as models of holiness and piety; celebrated for their selflessness and charity, now they are suspected of being predators and hypocrites; guilty of criminal behavior of enabling and covering up horrors in order to protect the reputation of the Church.  Whatever light they seemed to offer the world has grown dark and those who trusted them, who looked to them for guidance and example, now feel lost. Afraid. Angry. Alone. Betrayed and bewildered they don’t know where to turn; where to go; and many may be asking: where is God?

In the time when the Gospel was being written, the early church was experiencing great trials and persecutions.  And so, these apocalyptic words were written not to predict distant troubles, but to help those suffering persecutions to understand that trials and tribulations were to be expected; to remind them that they were not alone; they were not forgotten; God had not abandoned them.  They were still part of the Master’s plan.

Look around today and it can seem like everywhere you gaze the world is experiencing cataclysms of a kind.  The news is full of stories about what a terrible and divisive mess our government and society have become.  During the final weeks of the elections, it seemed like everyone running for office was corrupt or criminal or both. Violence and cruelty, greed and aggression seem to be everywhere you look.  The economy is a roller coaster. The weather and the atmosphere are in tumult.  Wars and rumors of war fill the headlines. Even the Church, the one institution that some of us clung to as a light in the darkness, a beacon of hope, is being battered from within. Accusations and scandals abound. Some of the most luminous of her clerical stars—have fallen from grace; accused of horrible acts. But, despite all of this -- God is exactly where He always was.  He is the one unchanging eternal truth you can always depend on.  An uncorruptible North Star, one might say. Near the end of today’s Gospel, Jesus says:  Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.  Jesus (the Word made flesh) says this. And we can trust it.  We can trust Him.  Governments and man-made institutions may last for a while, but they will pass away.  Look around and see the signs and then know this, as the green leaf is a sign that summer is near; so are these trials, so are your trials, a sign that God is near.  If we look at our God, at the example of our God, we will understand more fully why He says this.  Look at any Crucifix you might have in your home and think about what it is you see in that figure of a man nailed to a cross.  It is an image of God’s love—fully alive.

So, the next time you feel like your world is coming to an end, know this, trust this:  He is near.  And if you are ever wondering how you can get closer to God... think about those signs.  Maybe it’s not you –maybe it’s a co-worker or a friend who is feeling their world falling apart. Know that God is there –somewhere near.  Maybe even at the gate.

If the bishops and cardinals and priests who covered up the sins of abusers had only remembered that.  Jesus isn’t in the high office, He isn’t in the good reputation, He isn’t in the honor... He’s always near the cross wherever it is found.  Waiting for us to join Him.