Prophesying Together

Today is the day for prophecy.  Last week we lit the advent candle in honour of the patriarchs and matriarchs, and today we light it for the prophets, for Isaiah and John the Baptist and all those people who have spoken the Word of God.   But not only for the prophets of olden times, not only for those who gave us God’s message in ages gone by.   For prophecy is not an archaic craft for an ancient society, nor is it confined to the revelation of God’s truth back in the past.  The call to prophesy is not only for those long dead heroes of Christian tradition, but a summons to us, too, in the present.  A call to share in the hearing and the speaking of God’s Word which echoes through all space and time and which draws together past, present, and the future to come.

Even as I say this I am conscious that prophecy is rarely seen as a respectable occupation; we often associate it with grand claims to esoteric knowledge, or dark predictions about future disasters.  And I wonder what images come to your mind when thinking about prophets?  For me it is those sixteenth-century portraits of stern, bearded, older men confident in their belief that God has chosen them to pronounce judgement on society.   Prophets, at least back then, were men to obey and not men to argue with – or so their followers believed.  That kind of authority has never seemed very attractive to me, and I suspect that I would have been one of the sceptics, always asking questions, in good St Mary’s fashion. 

But this, of course, is not the only way to think about prophets and their role.   If we shift the emphasis a little, from the figure of the prophet to the action of prophecy, then perhaps we get a different and altogether more inviting picture.  Indeed, in the sixteenth century there was also a real commitment to recovering prophecy, not as the clairvoyance of one great individual but as the reading of scripture together and the making present of God’s Word in the here and now, in our own communities.   Indeed, prophecy was the lifeblood of those early Protestant Churches, for it was their way of allowing the Word of God to circulate in and through them, to shape their growth and their future.  And it is prophecy in that sense which we encounter in our readings this morning. 

In our reading from Isaiah, what is striking is the close interplay between listening and speaking, hearing and proclaiming; we are drawn into a dramatic conversation which includes us too, from that very first line when ‘our’ God calls us to comfort God’s people.  This is not a monologue, instructions from God to Isaiah and then relayed by Isaiah; this is more like a playscript, a liturgical drama with a cast of different characters, a drama which unfolds on a cosmic scale in response to God and to God’s interventions.   In our opening scene there is Jerusalem, troubled and distressed, for her people are in exile, surrounded it seems by untamed wilderness and rough, uneven ground.  But that scene is one that is being transformed, a city and a landscape coming to experience God’s redemptive action and to hear God’s words of comfort.  God’s messengers – and there are several - speak of God’s power and faithfulness, and they call upon the people to join them in the work of preparation, work which begins with consolation and with the invitation to look upwards, to lift up their hearts to the mountains and to share in the work of comfort and proclamation. 

This kind of prophecy is, it seems to me, a dynamic activity, a responding to God’s action and to God’s salvation.  It is as much about hearing and observing as it is about speaking, about recognising the character of God as Saviour and as Shepherd, carrying the people like lambs in God’s bosom.   And that recognition generates a response from the whole community, from the whole creation, a response of strength and of joy which it itself generative, which will then strengthen and comfort later people and future generations.   This is prophecy, but the figure of the prophet has faded to the background.  It is no coincidence that scholars see what we call the book of Isaiah as a composite text with multiple authors and editors, gathered and refined over time and reflecting experience and worship and prayer.  These are not the words of an over-bearing prophet, anxious for status and glory.  Instead, the book of Isaiah is a conversation opened by God and into which its readers are invited, a text whose story can become theirs, too.

And the story, as told by Isaiah, is far from over.  The glory of God is announced, but its revelation is not yet complete and the truth is not yet fully known.  This story will be taken up in our Gospel reading, when Mark will emphasise for us that continuity between John the Baptist and the words of Isaiah.  More than that, Mark announces to us the good news of Jesus Christ, in that dramatic opening statement and summary of the Gospel.   Mark will recount the action and intervention of God in Christ to save humanity, to reconcile us to God and so to each other.   In Jesus, in his life and death and resurrection, we find the true meaning of Word of God, its power to save and redeem, to comfort and restore; its transforming impact on the whole landscape of creation, even the farthest wilderness, even the darkest of places.   In the Gospel God’s salvation is revealed for us all, and all people are invited to share in it together.

But the Gospel does not bring to an end the work of prophesying, for that is still our work today.    When we read Isaiah, when we read the Gospels, we find words that will not stay in the past but words which are ours, still alive for us today.  They are words which call upon us directly, which summon us too to share in the work of the prophesy, the work of hearing and speaking according to the Word of God and with God’s Spirit.  This is not the imposition of authority but an openness to possibility, to an encounter with the divine which can change us and the world around us.  For prophecy is preparation, too, a willingness to allow ourselves to be drawn more fully into the life of the divine, into the Body of Christ.  Through the Words of God, through the Holy Spirit, through the sacraments, the Church community is created and sustained, and the presence of God with us is made known, even if only in glimpses.  And as this Advent we celebrate the prophets of the past, may they inspire us too to hear God’s Words and prepare our hearts for the coming of the Kingdom.