A Guestroom for Prophets

Introduction

Prophet Elisha

In the first reading from the Second Book of Kings, we read that when Prophet Elijah was taken up into heaven his cloak fell upon the prophet Elisha. When Elisha would visit the city of Shunem he was always received with great hospitality by a rich lady and her husband. They eventually built a little guest room just for him on their roof and furnished it with a bed, table, chair, and lamp. Feeling deeply indebted for always being so well received, the prophet Elisha wanted to repay them. So when he heard that the couple was childless, he summoned the woman and said to her, “By this time next year you will be holding a son in your arms.” She cried out, “Please, sir, do not lie to me. You are a man of God!” But as Elisha had promised at about that time the following year she gave birth to a baby boy (2 Kg: 8-17).

In the gospel today, Jesus says if you give welcome to a prophet you will receive the reward of a prophet. The rich woman and her husband, indeed, were superabundantly rewarded for receiving the prophet Elisha.

Prophets: hard to like

It’s not easy to give welcome to a prophet. In Scripture and theology prophets are not people who foretell the future. Rather they are messengers who tell us something we don’t want to hear but need to hear. Nobody likes that! They tell us something which rocks the boat and disturbs the peace, but who likes having our tranquility disturbed? Prophets call for a change, but who likes being asked to do something new when it’s so much easier to do the same old thing over and over. Prophets say thought-provoking things, but who likes being provoked to think? Prophets strip a message of its harmlessness, but who likes a message that might costs us something? In Isaiah a prophet is one who “lifts up his voice like a trumpet and tells the people their sins,” but who likes being reminded that we are sinners (Is 58:1)? Finally prophets are messengers who say politically incorrect things, but who likes people who say things they are not expected to say?

Prophets: infuriators

It’s a no brainer, therefore, to see why prophets infuriate people. One Sabbath Jesus goes to the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. He gets up to do a reading from the prophet Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to the imprisoned, and to restore sight to the blind” (Is 61: 1-2). When he finishes reading, the eyes of all are peeled upon him, and all are admiring the words that fell from his lips. But then some of the folk begin to have second thoughts about this local boy. “Isn’t he the son of Mary and a brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon,” they ask (Lk 4: 16-22).

Jesus knows their hesitations so he says to them, “I suppose you’re going to quote for me that old proverb, `Physician, cure thyself.’ In other words, perform here in your hometown the miracles we hear you work in Capernaum, and that’ll settle our doubts about you. Well, let me tell you prophets are never well received in their own hometowns. They fare much better far away from home.” Then he cites the examples of the prophets Elijah and Elisha. Both, he says, had to leave Israel and go to far-off gentile lands like Sidon and Syria, where they were well received, and where they could exercise their good services (Lk 4:25-27).

At this point, all hell breaks loose. The local boy is referring to himself as a prophet and he’s acting like one. He’s telling the local folk something they don’t want to hear--that they are ugly and mean to the messengers God sends them, especially when the messengers are from the same hometown. That wasn’t the correct thing for him to say, and it ruffles the local folks--not just ruffles but infuriates them. Luke writes, "At that moment the whole congregation became infuriated. Another translation reads “became insanely angered.” They sprang to their feet, grabbed him by the nape of his neck, dragged him out of town to the brow of a hill on which it was built and were going to throw him over a cliff. But he slipped through the crowd and walked away" (Lk 4: 29-30).

Prophets and the politically incorrect

A friend from one of those plush little towns north of Milwaukee writes,

Many times during your homilies, I’d be ruffled a bit in my pew. I was raised in a conservative working class family in Cincinnati, Ohio. Being of German heritage, I was taught from my earliest memory to challenge nothing Holy Mother Church teaches; to respect all persons in positions of authority: teachers, parents, aunts, uncles, police, government officials, etc. I was taught also to work for what I wanted and wait until I had cash to buy it. I was taught that the Lord helps those who help themselves, and that there is no excuse for being dirty because everyone can afford a bar of soap.

As I grew older, I was taught by Notre Dame nuns in grade school and Jesuits in high school and college. A theology professor challenged me one day by asking if I really believed what I had said, or was I simply giving the political answer? Was I simply saying what was the right thing to say? It was then that I realized what being “politically correct” was all about. Christ made many politically incorrect statements in his lifetime. He often said things that weren’t the right things to say. That infuriated people who crucified him for it. That Jesuit told me something I will never forget: to be politically incorrect, to say not what people want to hear but what they need to hear, requires a strong faith in God and broad shoulders because the world will kick you until you’re down and then will kick you again.

The politically incorrect statements of Jesus, which my friend refers to, and which finally did Jesus in, run like a litany: “Woe to you teachers of the Law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You place heavy burdens on people’s backs and you don’t lift a finger to give them support. (Not the right thing to say.) Woe to you teachers of the Law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You prance around in the synagogues with your ostentatious phylacteries and your long dangling tassels, interested only in show. (Not the right thing to say.) Woe to you teachers of the Law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You are like white-washed tombs that look so nice on the outside but inside are filled with dead men’s bones and rotting flesh. (Not the right thing to say.) Woe to you teachers of the Law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You are scrupulous in paying tithes on mint, cumin, and dill, but all the while you neglect the weightier matters of the Law, like justice, compassion and honesty“ (Mt 23:13-36).

Prophets: filled with love.

A true prophet, however, does not rant and rave. Jesus was not a ranter and raver. When he weeps over the city of Jerusalem for stoning the prophets God sends, he cries out saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often I wanted to gather you as the hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not let me” (Mt 23:37-39). Who speaks and weeps like that is not filled with rant and rave but with love. When prophets lift up their voice and tell the people their sins, they do it out of love.

Barbara Marion Horn, a feisty lady from Ireland, is indeed a prophet when she writes to Archbishop Weakland, berating an ordination ceremony she attended in the cathedral one Saturday. She labeled it as an all-male event splashed across the sanctuary, embodying society’s oldest and deepest exclusion, and this, mind you, right in the very house of God, the Father of us all. The whole event, she writes, deserved the same whip of cord which Jesus, the prophet, used on another Sabbath on other desecrators of the temple (Lk 19:46).

But listen to how she ends her bit of prophecy: “I appreciate having an archbishop and an assistant bishop to whom I can feel open enough to convey these reflections. Originally from the East coast, I am forever grateful to have landed here in Milwaukee. This Archdiocese has introduced me to a Catholic Church heretofore unknown. And so here I am, simultaneously holding gratitude in one hand and deep discontent in the other.” Ms Horn is a true prophet. She doesn’t rant and rave. She does, indeed, lift up her voice like a trumpet and tells her church its sin, but she does it with love.

The need for prophets

That church always needs prophets to raise up their voices and tell their church its sin. That’s what Jesuit Fr. Francis Gonsalves of India does in an open letter to Pope Benedict XVI. He quotes a line from the Pope’s inauguration homily: “My real program of governance is not to do my own will, not to pursue my own ideas, but to listen together with the whole Church.” Then the prophet Gonsalves cries out, “Bravo, Pope Benedict! Many Indians who religiously listen to God’s voice in nature and in other faiths and in their neighbors complain that the Roman Catholic Church only speaks but never listens, only teaches but is never herself taught.” What a great service Fr. Gonsalves renders his church when he tells his church its sin. How else do we get a church that repents? How else do we get that kind of a church which Paul in Ephesians says Jesus as a bridegroom wishes to present to himself as bride: “a glorious church, a church without spot or wrinkle or any kind of blemish” (Eph 5:27)?

The mosque like the church also needs prophets--people who will lift up their voices like trumpets and tell Islam its sin. That’s the sin of Islam countenancing the culture of suicide bombers. That’s the sin of Islam countenancing the desecration of God’s creatures by indiscriminately butchering off innocent people in the name of Allah. That’s infinitely worse than desecrating God’s word by throwing the Koran (or the Bible for that matter) into the toilet. After 9/11 supposedly good Muslims protested saying, “That’s not what we Muslims are all about.” Where are the prophets in Islam who will challenge those so-called good Muslims and will demand from them a protestation far more forceful and far more heart-filled than a mere, “That’s not what we Muslims are all about.” Where are the prophets in Islam who will lift up their voices to condemn, with all their heart and soul, Islamist butchery in the name of Allah?

Thomas Friedman, columnist for the New York Times writes that President Bush, before sending a messenger out to flog Newsweek for the article about the Koran thrown into the toilet, should have first said, “From what I know of Islam, it teaches that you show reverence to God by showing reverence for his creatures not just for his words.” Then he writes that Bush should have demanded, “You Muslims, why don‘t your spiritual leaders (your prophets) clearly say that? I am asking because I want to know.”

Stop stoning prophets

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem," cries Jesus as he weeps over the city, "you stone the prophets, those messengers God sends you. How often I wanted to gather you as the hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not let me."

When will we Christians stop stoning the prophet in Jesus by making him just a nice guy who says and does a host of harmless things? We stone the prophet in Jesus by failing to paint the other strokes of the picture—the picture of one who rocked the boat. The picture of one who said he had come not for peace but for division (Lk 12: 49-51). When we stone the prophet in Jesus we make his cross quite incomprehensible, for nice guys die peacefully in a bed and not violently upon a cross.

When will we stop stoning the prophet in the local boys, that is to say, in the people around us, our spouses, our kids, our parents? These are the people who know us better than anyone else, and who know better than anyone else what we need to hear but don’t want to hear.

When will we stop getting infuriated at the prophets God sends us, especially if they are our spouses or our kids or our parents? Our infuriation at them is a clever way of training them to tell us only what we want to hear. It is a clever way of training them to tell us the “right things” instead of to tell us the truth. The more infuriated we get at their words, the more we probably need to hear what they are saying.

When will we stop stoning the prophet in ourselves by refusing to do our God-given prophetic duty to lift up our voice like a trumpet and tell someone, especially a loved one, something that needs to be said, indeed, not with rant and rave but with love?

Conclusion

A guest room for prophets

When will we not only stop stoning our prophets but also start giving them positive welcome, building a guestroom for them and putting a welcome sign over the door. It takes great courage to be a prophet and say what has to be said. It also takes great courage to give welcome to a prophet and hear what has to be heard. To all of us today Jesus says, “Coraggio!” “Courage!” Do not be afraid to receive your prophets.

And in these days of open letters to the new Pope, Jesus says “Coraggio!” also to Pope Benedict XVI. Courage, dear Holy Father! Do not be afraid to receive the prophets whom God sends the church. Yes, God sends prophets even to the church, for Christ, the bridegroom, desires to present to himself as bride “a glorious church, a church without spot or wrinkle or any kind of blemish.” Do not be afraid, Holy Father, to build a little guest room on the roof of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith—a guestroom where you can give welcome to the prophets God sends the church. Furnish the guestroom with a bed, table, chair, and lamp, where you and the prophets might hold holy conversations about all the great issues that beset us. Holy Father, do not be afraid. He, whose vicar you are, has promised that those who receive a prophet in his name will receive the reward of a prophet.