"A great prophet has appeared among us!"

We just returned from a four day trip to the Galilee (In NT times a region including but not limited to the Sea of Galilee). It was both inspiring and exhausting! More than once I wistfully wished Isaiah the prophet's vision might come true "speedily and in my day." "The rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain" (Isa 40:4). We clambered down cliffs (at the Arbel), ascended the high place of Dan and plodded along the precipices of the Banias River gorge before finishing the day on the summit of a volcanic cone on the Golan Heights called Mt. Bental ("son of the dew"). Thankfully, we ended each day at a nice guest kibbutz called En Gev on the eastern side of the Sea of Galilee. A good supper and a night's rest can do wonders!

The single most powerful impression from my Galilee trip this time (I've visited the area about seven times previously) was reflecting on how Galilee must have shaped and spoken to Jesus of Nazareth. As I sat on "Jumping Mountain," the local name for a high precipice just on the outskirts of Nazareth that offers a splendid view of the Jezreel Valley below to the south, I could see several sites that were connected with some of the great prophets of the past.

Most notable were the dynamic duo, Elijah and Elisha. This blog will focus on the former. Clearly visible on the skyline was a site called Muhraqa, the highest point on the Mt. Carmel ridge that juts out into the Mediterranean on its western most extension. Up there, where we had been on the previous day looking toward the Nazareth ridge where I now sat, Elijah single-handedly took on the 450 prophets of Baal and his female consort Asherah in an epic power encounter. Which deity could make it rain? Baal or Yahweh (The Lord)? Seemingly, Elijah had triumphed with a spectacular display of the Lord's power over nature. Elijah had the false prophets executed and then ran before Ahab's chariot some 18 miles to the palace of Ahab at Jezreel. I could see the course of this super human feat right there before my eyes with Jezreel just off in the distance, almost directly across from where I sat. Too bad they didn't have stop watches in those days; Elijah's time was certainly a record never since achieved!

At any rate, the story goes on to make clear that Elijah was quite mistaken to think that a divine "fireworks" display was all that was needed to turn the nation back to the Lord. Jezebel snarled and snapped at Elijah threatening to end his life by the very next day! (1 Kings 19:2). Elijah, completely spent, collapsed before this threat. He "was afraid and ran for his life" (19:3). He fled all the way to Beersheva and then, leaving his servant there, he went a day's journey out into the forbidding desert of the Negev. He was overcome with a sense of complete failure and wanted to end his life then and there. The Lord, however, had other plans. He sent an angel to feed him and allowed him to get some much needed rest. After another nourishing meal, he was miraculously enabled to make a pilgrimage of 40 days and 40 nights to Mt. Sinai where Israel had initally pledged allegiance to the Lord God of Israel after the Exodus from Egypt (Exodus 19 and 24).

On that spectacular mountain, the Lord's presence was preceded by a powerful wind, an earthquake and fire. But, says the sacred historian, the Lord was not in the wind, earthquake or fire (1 Kings 19:11-12). Rather, Elijah heard "a gentle whisper." This was the profound truth that Elijah needed to grasp. People aren't typically converted by "power evangelism." They are brought to the Savior by the working of the Holy Spirit in their inmost being. To be sure, sometimes the Spirit of God performs convincing demonstrations of the power of God to unbelieving hearts and it is instrumental in their conversion. But most often, it is the secret, mysterious work of the Spirit (cf. John 3:8) in the human heart that brings about new birth.

I think Jesus thought often about that story. Jesus did perform mighty deeds and wonders among the people. One miracle in particular, was performed at a little village that now lay within my view. I could make out where the village of Nain had once been, nestled on the north side of Mt. Moreh. It was the village in which a little boy, the only child of a widow, was brought back to life by the Master. The response of those who witnessed it is recorded in Luke's Gospel (Note that only Luke records this miracle. Dr. Luke was fascinated by Jesus' power to heal the sick, cast out demons, and, yes, even raise the dead): "A great prophet has appeared among us" (Luke 7:16). Of course they were absolutely right, a great prophet had indeed arisen; the problem was they didn't grasp that he was much more than a great prophet. As Luke makes clear, Jesus is also "the Son of God" (Luke 1:35). There is a giant leap between affirming that Jesus is a great prophet and that he is the Son of God. Miracles per se can't span this gulf; only the Spirit of God can instill this confidence. It's like Jesus told Simon Peter after he made his great confession at Caesarea Philippi, a place we also visited on this trip. "Blessed are you Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven" (Matthew 16:17).

As I stood at Korazin and Capernaum on the last day of our trip, the words of Jesus echoed in my mind: "Woe to you, Korazin! Woe to you Bethsaida! If the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes . . . "And you, Capernaum . . . If the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Sodom, it would have remained to his day." (Matthew 11:21-23). How tragic to actually see with one's eyes the works of God and still fail to really know him.

Jesus understood this. But he didn't succumb to self-pity nor did he think he must be a success as the world measures success (even pastors and evangelists sometimes fall into this deadly deceit). He knew his sheep would hear his voice and respond (John 10:2-4, 14-16). His mission would entail that he lose his life, but in a quite different sense than Elijah contemplated. His was not a death in despair (as Albert Schweitzer once claimed) but a death to end all death (Hebrews 2:9, 14). I think Jesus appreciated Elijah's courageous stand for Yahweh in his day. But I also think Jesus was very much aware of Elijah's shortcomings ("a man just like us," James 5:17). As a youngster, I wonder if Jesus stood on "Jumping Mountain" and, looking out over the Jezreel Valley, reflected on the life and exploits of Elijah.

There were other prophets that Jesus pondered about as he grew up in his home town of Nazareth. But let's save those for our next blog. Until then, keep listening for the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit!

Reflections on Hosea

The book of Hosea speaks to a crying need of our day: commitment.

For the last two weeks my class in the prophetic landscape of ancient Israel has engaged this prophet to the northern kingdom of Israel. In all likelihood, Hosea was from the powerful and influential tribe of Ephraim. One notices, for example, that throughout his messages, Hosea refers to "Ephraim" as representative of all the northern ten tribes. Ephraim was the tribe from which Joshua came and early on was the leading tribe among the federation of twelve tribes. The ark of the covenant was housed at Shiloh deep in Ephraimite territory, which reflects the prestige accorded this tribe.

Hosea, however, is not happy with Ephraim, nor is Hosea happy with his wife, Gomer. And therein lies a profound story of a failed marriage; indeed, not one but two failed marriages, because Hosea and his wayward wife Gomer mirror another marriage, namely, that between Yahweh and Israel. Israel, like Gomer, was unfaithful to her wedded husband. The consequences for both Gomer and Israel were devastating and the emotional pain experienced by Hosea and Yahweh was intense.

I pointed out to my students that no prophet portrays the emotional pain of the Lord over his unfaithful people as vividly and realistically as Hosea (Hos 6:4; 7:13; 11:1, 8-9). This is truly remarkable and I want to share with my readers what I shared with my students.

The prophet Hosea teaches us that steadfast love (Hesed in Hebrew) triumphs over justice. What I mean is not that God simply turns his head the other way and ignores our guilt, but rather, that God extends extraordinary kindness and mercy to us even though we deserve to have "the book thrown at us." If you think about it, the Cross is the most profound instance of incomprehensible love one can imagine. The story of how Hosea reclaims and reconciles with his unfaithful wife Gomer mirrors God's unfathomable act of reconciling the world to himself through Christ not counting men's sins against them (2 Cor 5: 19). No plea bargain can compare to the settlement forged by a loving heavenly Father and his obedient Son in order to redeem sinners. And this self-giving love is the pattern to be replicated in the lives of all those who repent and receive the Father's gracious invitation to be reconciled. As the Holy Spirit pours out God's love in our hearts we are able to demonstrate grace and mercy to those who have deeply hurt us. This is well beyond ordinary human capability--it is a divine gift.

Secondly, the story of Hosea and Gomer highlights a major shortcoming these days. When the " for worse" part of our wedding vows actually happens, the reaction is all too often and all too quickly "cut bait and run." Wedding vows are now understood as strictly reciprocal: if my spouse doesn't live up to his or her promise, I am released from any obligation of commitment "till death do us part." Thankfully, the Lord doesn't deal with us in the same way. He leads us with "cords of human kindness" (Hos 11:4) and says to us, "How can I give you up, Ephraim?" (Hos 11:8). I realize that some marriages are so destructive there is no remedy but divorce. But most divorces should not have happened. They are testaments of failed commitments. It must have been the hardest thing in his life for Hosea to take back his unfaithful wife. But he did. Love can be rekindled but it takes a divine spark.

Thirdly, broken vows carry heavy consequences. Gomer paid dearly for her infidelities. Israel paid dearly for her spiritual harlotry in forsaking the one true and living God for lifeless idols. She spiraled down into the morass of immorality that always accompanies such utter foolishness (cf. Rom 1:21-32). In our lives, too, broken vows invariably eventuate in the reproofs of life. Much grief is the bitter fruit of broken vows.

Finally, the story of Hosea and Gomer reminds us of a deep mystery involving divine providence. God may allow us, like Hosea, to experience deep personal tragedy. When this happens, we can do as Job's wife suggested he do: "curse God and die" or, we can cry out for divine grace and mercy. Instead of succumbing to self-pity, we can rise from our ashes and brokenness and demonstrate a profound truth: God's grace is sufficient. "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil 4:13). Such a testimony is powerful beyond mere words.