The Prophet recited the cantations, prayed the prayers. He raised his hands and bowed his face to the ground. Slowly, eventually, his lips stopped moving, his breathing slowed and the outside world faded. Prostrate. Listening.
What do you see?
It was the voice - the small whisper, the breeze.
What do you see?
The Prophet's eyes closed.
There was a knoll, it was set against the backdrop of clear blue sky. The knoll was bare of any vegetation save for a lone tree branch - from an almond tree, pink in full bloom, just sitting on the ground.
What do you see?
"I see a branch, from an almond tree."
A branch from the Watching Tree.
Suddenly, the branch burst into flame and a black pot appeared over the fire - steaming and bubbling.
What do you see?
The water from the boiling pot was falling over one side - violently steaming and sizzling in fire and heat.
What do you see?
The boiling caldron started to tip and the water poured toward the prophet.
What do you see?
"A pot that is boiling and tipping," the Prophet mumbled.
The pot pours from the North.
The prophet saw the pot tip over completely and the boiling destruction cosumed everything in its path. It melted and drowned anything in its path, except for the prophet. The Prophet stood un harmed in the midst of the catastrophe. He was unharmed and completely alone.
4.07.2015
4.06.2015
Jeremiah 2.1 The Calling
The Prophet's Message begins with a recitation of his lineage and then he recounts his calling. We learn that he came from a priestly family. But, was he a priest?
It is tough to tell. Many Biblical characters played the dual role of prophet and priest (Samuel, Ezra, etc.). The book of Jeremiah is filled with priestly inferences and Temple ritual allusions. But, Jeremiah was consistently at odds with the Priest class. They persecuted him, threw him down a well, and on several occasions tried to kill him.
If Jeremiah was a priest, he clearly must have practiced outside of priestly institutions and expectations.
He was an exile, long before he departed for Egypt.
Jeremiah was drafted to a calling different from the Priesthood - called to the work of a Prophet. God touched his lips and thereby inserted His message into the prophet's voice and life.
What must that have tasted like - those first moments of the Calling? The taste must have been somewhat bitter. The message was certainly difficult for any of the Prophet's listeners to hear. The Message was of judgement and destruction, of the razing of kingdoms.
But there was also something else laced throughout the Message. Hope. In the midst of all the heartache and doom, the Message promises rescue and resurrection. Like sky filled with clouds, the Sun is present but invisible.
The destruction was inevitable. The Judgement had been declared. But, God promises to be present with the Prophet and his people throughout. In the end, something different would arise - the culmination of God's eternal plan. The Message promises that God is not only in command, but he is also present through the suffering.
I'm writing this on Easter Sunday 2015. Perhaps you, like me, woke up and had no place to recall or celebrate the Resurrection. Or, perhaps you come from a different tradition and there is no remembrance of the Passover this year. Despite this, I wonder if it is times like these that God reaches down and implants a Message - a Message of resurrection. I wonder if people can still be effective ministers, even in exile.
Jeremiah 1.3 - Historical Context
Jeremiah's prophecy is another chapter in the story of of a faithful god shepherding his wayward people.
Israel, the Northern Kingdom, had long since fallen and now Judah found itself stuck between giant political and military powers. To the Southwest, was the Kingdom of Egypt. To the East was the Assyrian Empire, and then Babylon.
Jeremiah's time spanned from the hopeful reforms of King Josiah and through the corrupt mess of his successors, to the eventual destruction and final exile.
In the final days of the Kingdom of Judah, the Judean kings were reduced to groveling for the favor of one empire or another. This stood in stark contrast to the heroic Josiah - the fearless king who stood against both Eastern and Western powers. Josiah was fierce about standing for independence, even to his own detriment.
Josiah's passion for political independence was like his passion for religious Independence. Instead of compromising with the pagan pantheon, Josiah fought for the Old Ways. Not his successors, however. Both politically and religiously, they sought to emulate their neighbors. Chasing idols and strange religious practices, the kings drew the ire of Jeremiah, who promised destruction.
The kings were double dealing. They were double dealing the powers of the world and the power of Heaven. The end of Judah was inevitable.
Israel, the Northern Kingdom, had long since fallen and now Judah found itself stuck between giant political and military powers. To the Southwest, was the Kingdom of Egypt. To the East was the Assyrian Empire, and then Babylon.
Jeremiah's time spanned from the hopeful reforms of King Josiah and through the corrupt mess of his successors, to the eventual destruction and final exile.
In the final days of the Kingdom of Judah, the Judean kings were reduced to groveling for the favor of one empire or another. This stood in stark contrast to the heroic Josiah - the fearless king who stood against both Eastern and Western powers. Josiah was fierce about standing for independence, even to his own detriment.
Josiah's passion for political independence was like his passion for religious Independence. Instead of compromising with the pagan pantheon, Josiah fought for the Old Ways. Not his successors, however. Both politically and religiously, they sought to emulate their neighbors. Chasing idols and strange religious practices, the kings drew the ire of Jeremiah, who promised destruction.
The kings were double dealing. They were double dealing the powers of the world and the power of Heaven. The end of Judah was inevitable.
4.05.2015
Jeremiah 1.2 Introduction
Are you an exile?
Have you left your faith?
Perhaps, your faith has left you?
Everything your faith once was, it is no longer. At times, you have been convinced that your faith didn't exist at all.
Perhaps it was a slow cooling, or maybe it was like a rug being pulled out from beneath you, but somehow faith completely changed for you.
Some people just can't take the hypocrisy or are horrified by the behavior of believers. So, they leave. Others are chased away, banished, or ignored. Either way, they are exiles.
All the old battles are meaningless now. Things that once evoked great passion are now just more noise in the background of life. It is almost a relief not to pick one side or the other.
And yet, there is still something missing. It is hard to put a finger on what that something actually is.
A community?
An identity?
The old prayers still come to mind, unbidden. Ancient texts bubble to the surface in conversation. Songs from childhood are hummed or whistled. Cosmological questions from children bring forth startlingly honest answers.
Are you an exile? A faith refugee?
Good.
For, it is in exile that faith is changed, remade, and ultimately...
resurrected.
Have you left your faith?
Perhaps, your faith has left you?
Everything your faith once was, it is no longer. At times, you have been convinced that your faith didn't exist at all.
Perhaps it was a slow cooling, or maybe it was like a rug being pulled out from beneath you, but somehow faith completely changed for you.
Some people just can't take the hypocrisy or are horrified by the behavior of believers. So, they leave. Others are chased away, banished, or ignored. Either way, they are exiles.
All the old battles are meaningless now. Things that once evoked great passion are now just more noise in the background of life. It is almost a relief not to pick one side or the other.
And yet, there is still something missing. It is hard to put a finger on what that something actually is.
A community?
An identity?
The old prayers still come to mind, unbidden. Ancient texts bubble to the surface in conversation. Songs from childhood are hummed or whistled. Cosmological questions from children bring forth startlingly honest answers.
Are you an exile? A faith refugee?
Good.
For, it is in exile that faith is changed, remade, and ultimately...
resurrected.
Jeremiah 1.1 The Story
The Prophet lived long enough to see his warnings become reality. He was able to wander the now empty streets, to experience life in a leveled city, and to observe the ruined temple. The old man kicked at the dirt of a vacant Holy City and remember another time.
"We must go," a soldier growled, "Now."
The Prophet stared at the soldier. "The Lord told us to stay right here - in the Holy Land."
"Well," the soldier spat, "the Commander says we're all going South, so that's where we are going. Now, move it!"
The Prophet remembered a time when he was young, but old enough to know that things were not as they should have been. He had watched his father and grandfather perform the rituals and functions, but there were few who bothered to practice the faith or adhere to the Law. He remembered watching the nation turn its back on the old ways, and embrace the new.
As he became a man himself, he saw the people vacillate in their beliefs - following one cult and then another. In doing this, they were only following the example of a series of feckless kings. One day the King would be welcoming the Eastern Empire and insulting the Southern Kings, the next day it would be the opposite. The Holy City became filled with wild foreign influences and debauchery.
He remembered the Valley. The King would lead the people there in some the most hideous rituals imaginable. They had strayed so far that good was considered evil and evil, good.
He tried to tell them. He decried the faithless culture, the corrupt monarchs, and the people who had forgotten the Way. He reminded them of the need for the Law and the Sabbath. He pled with the city and the nation. He begged them to turn things around. But, nobody was listening. From kings to peasants, he was mocked and ridiculed by a stubbornly forgetful nation. He was imprisoned, castigated and even thrown down a well. But, nothing would shut him up.
The soldier leveled his spear.
The Prophet stared at the soldier.
The Scribe jumped between the soldier and the Prophet. "Nabi, please, let us be going."
The prophet allowed the Scribe to lead him to the long line of people gathered on the Southern road. They, like him, were pitiful to look upon. Dressed in rags and carrying what they could. A lost and broken people.
When the King had finally decided to listen, it was too late. The Emperor's army was upon them. Their doom had arrived.
Though unsurprised by the arrival of the Judgement, the violence of it was still a shock.
The blood...
The fire...
The bodies...
The chains...
They had all left. The city and nation was empty. But, some had tried to return. They had come out of hiding and some had even returned from Babylon. They tried to make it work. But, the corruption was still poisoning the people. Now, the governor had been assassinated. The Empire would soon hear of it. The scheming, plotting Commanders had ordered everybody south - the City would be abandoned.
Walking with the ramshackle procession, he looked at his feet and the ground beneath. The Promised Land would finally have its Sabbath, its rest.
He looked over his shoulder to the ruins of the temple.
He glanced at his faithful Scribe.
They were now exiles. An exiled people with an exiled faith.
The Prophet knew that nothing would ever be the same. But, he also knew that this pathetic shuffling lot, who were looking for refuge in a foreign land, would actually find rescue. The rescue would not come from an Southern King, nor would it be found in the Emperor to the East. They would find a new future in the faith of their grandfathers and grandmothers.
Though mourning the past, their future would bring an incredible miracle. The sovereign God of Heaven, their ancestors, the God of the Law, he had directed this. But, it would not last forever. He would not forget his people.
Nothing could dissuade him. This was an act of judgement and the Lord of Hosts was still in command. And if the Lord of Hosts was in command, then he would be there with them - a god in exile.
"Now we shall see what awaits us," the Scribe said encouragingly.
The Prophet looked at the road ahead, beyond the sad shuffling refugees. "Exile, Baruch. Exile awaits."
The Prophet smiled as he walked away from the Holy City.
"We must go," a soldier growled, "Now."
The Prophet stared at the soldier. "The Lord told us to stay right here - in the Holy Land."
"Well," the soldier spat, "the Commander says we're all going South, so that's where we are going. Now, move it!"
The Prophet remembered a time when he was young, but old enough to know that things were not as they should have been. He had watched his father and grandfather perform the rituals and functions, but there were few who bothered to practice the faith or adhere to the Law. He remembered watching the nation turn its back on the old ways, and embrace the new.
As he became a man himself, he saw the people vacillate in their beliefs - following one cult and then another. In doing this, they were only following the example of a series of feckless kings. One day the King would be welcoming the Eastern Empire and insulting the Southern Kings, the next day it would be the opposite. The Holy City became filled with wild foreign influences and debauchery.
He remembered the Valley. The King would lead the people there in some the most hideous rituals imaginable. They had strayed so far that good was considered evil and evil, good.
He tried to tell them. He decried the faithless culture, the corrupt monarchs, and the people who had forgotten the Way. He reminded them of the need for the Law and the Sabbath. He pled with the city and the nation. He begged them to turn things around. But, nobody was listening. From kings to peasants, he was mocked and ridiculed by a stubbornly forgetful nation. He was imprisoned, castigated and even thrown down a well. But, nothing would shut him up.
The soldier leveled his spear.
The Prophet stared at the soldier.
The Scribe jumped between the soldier and the Prophet. "Nabi, please, let us be going."
The prophet allowed the Scribe to lead him to the long line of people gathered on the Southern road. They, like him, were pitiful to look upon. Dressed in rags and carrying what they could. A lost and broken people.
When the King had finally decided to listen, it was too late. The Emperor's army was upon them. Their doom had arrived.
Though unsurprised by the arrival of the Judgement, the violence of it was still a shock.
The blood...
The fire...
The bodies...
The chains...
They had all left. The city and nation was empty. But, some had tried to return. They had come out of hiding and some had even returned from Babylon. They tried to make it work. But, the corruption was still poisoning the people. Now, the governor had been assassinated. The Empire would soon hear of it. The scheming, plotting Commanders had ordered everybody south - the City would be abandoned.
Walking with the ramshackle procession, he looked at his feet and the ground beneath. The Promised Land would finally have its Sabbath, its rest.
He looked over his shoulder to the ruins of the temple.
He glanced at his faithful Scribe.
They were now exiles. An exiled people with an exiled faith.
The Prophet knew that nothing would ever be the same. But, he also knew that this pathetic shuffling lot, who were looking for refuge in a foreign land, would actually find rescue. The rescue would not come from an Southern King, nor would it be found in the Emperor to the East. They would find a new future in the faith of their grandfathers and grandmothers.
Though mourning the past, their future would bring an incredible miracle. The sovereign God of Heaven, their ancestors, the God of the Law, he had directed this. But, it would not last forever. He would not forget his people.
Nothing could dissuade him. This was an act of judgement and the Lord of Hosts was still in command. And if the Lord of Hosts was in command, then he would be there with them - a god in exile.
"Now we shall see what awaits us," the Scribe said encouragingly.
The Prophet looked at the road ahead, beyond the sad shuffling refugees. "Exile, Baruch. Exile awaits."
The Prophet smiled as he walked away from the Holy City.
6.11.2013
Faith in Community
It is one thing to gripe and complain all day. It is another thing to actually promote positive change. So, what would a healthy faith community look like?
First of all, I don't think that a healthy faith is explored alone. We need people! This is contrary to much of what we hear about spirituality. Faith, in the US, is often considered something explored individually. Part of the reason for this is our history. One of the core principles that our nation was founded upon was Religious Liberty, and that liberty was based within the context of individual conscious. Soul liberty is a good thing - even a great thing. Our faith should not be dictated to us by a government, society, etc.
However, when we throw the baby out with the bathwater, we miss out on one of the foundational elements of faith - loving one another. The Christian faith was established within the context of community and to be practiced in community. From Acts 2:
Community was even an essential part of the Church's ordinances. The same words shared or sharing above was used in I Corinthians 10:16, which describes the Eucharist -
Lone Ranger spirituality is clearly not a part of the Christian experience. It is bound to fall short. But, there are many people who are no longer comfortable in the spiritual context of the traditional church. what are we to do with them(us)? The Lone Ranger way seems like the only route.
I think new spiritual communities are the only answer. The Church is not going to change. I don't even think it is capable of changing. Change has never been a part of its DNA. So, the change will have to come from the outside. Bands of outsiders will one day gather for what happens next, and that will be the key to the future.
What would such a band of people look like? What is spiritual community supposed to look like?
First of all, I don't think that a healthy faith is explored alone. We need people! This is contrary to much of what we hear about spirituality. Faith, in the US, is often considered something explored individually. Part of the reason for this is our history. One of the core principles that our nation was founded upon was Religious Liberty, and that liberty was based within the context of individual conscious. Soul liberty is a good thing - even a great thing. Our faith should not be dictated to us by a government, society, etc.
However, when we throw the baby out with the bathwater, we miss out on one of the foundational elements of faith - loving one another. The Christian faith was established within the context of community and to be practiced in community. From Acts 2:
The believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers. A sense of awe came over everyone. God performed many wonders and signs through the apostles. All the believers were united and shared everything. They would sell pieces of property and possessions and distribute the proceeds to everyone who needed them. Every day, they met together in the temple and ate in their homes. They shared food with gladness and simplicity. They praised God and demonstrated God’s goodness to everyone. The Lord added daily to the community those who were being saved.
Community was even an essential part of the Church's ordinances. The same words shared or sharing above was used in I Corinthians 10:16, which describes the Eucharist -
Isn’t the cup of blessing that we bless a sharing in the blood of Christ? Isn’t the loaf of bread that we break a sharing in the body of Christ?Community was an essential part of how God disseminates the Good News. In Ephesians 3:10 Paul states that the revelation of God's plan happens 'through the Church' and that utilizing the Church is a part of God's eternal purpose.
Lone Ranger spirituality is clearly not a part of the Christian experience. It is bound to fall short. But, there are many people who are no longer comfortable in the spiritual context of the traditional church. what are we to do with them(us)? The Lone Ranger way seems like the only route.
I think new spiritual communities are the only answer. The Church is not going to change. I don't even think it is capable of changing. Change has never been a part of its DNA. So, the change will have to come from the outside. Bands of outsiders will one day gather for what happens next, and that will be the key to the future.
What would such a band of people look like? What is spiritual community supposed to look like?
6.01.2013
Prayer 6.1
God of all faith,
I don't need this. Things have been going so well. I have been so content. I would have left the ministry long before I did if I would have known that it was this nice.
I no longer feel like my head sits beneath an ever-present guillotine. There is no more ticking IED lodged somewhere in my life. I don't stay up at night worrying about the day to come. My path to tomorrow no longer seems to be paved in eggshells. I feel free.
So, why on Earth would I ever want to go back? I don't know how thoughts of returning ever made it past my sanity filter!
Please, God. Tell me no. Close these doors and bar my return.
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