...
Show More
At one point, the author summarizes:'We and the prophets have no language in common. To us the moral state of society, for all its stains and spots, seems fair and trim; to the prophet it is dreadful. So many deeds of charity are done, so much decency radiates day and night; yet to the prophet the satiety of conscience is prudery and flight from responsibility. Our standards are modest; our sense of injustice tolerable, timid; our moral indignation impermament; yet human violence is interminable, unbearable, permanent. To us life is often serene, in the prophet's eye the world reels in confusion" (10).
This near-classic treatment of the prophets, written by Jewish theologian, Abraham Heschel, is full of helpful insights and reorientations of perspective. I only read the first half of the book, since the latter discussion of the psychology of ecstasy and such didn't interest me.
But the main section on OT prophets reinforced my sense that the biblical prophets saw the message or gospel of God as clearly focused on communal justice and even perhaps foreign policy, not on our post-Reformation obsession with individual salvation.
The book also highlighted how idolatry, too, was not some individual doctrinal error (the way we assume) but itself an alien politics and economics. To worship Assyrian or Egyptian gods was not just to worship a god of a different personal trait. It was to embrace an opposing politics, an opposing way of life.
The book also highlighted the prophets' continual denunciations of violence and war (I hadn't realized how many). At the same time, their general opposition to violence and military might set them not only at odds with the conservatism of their day but also with the violent pagan systems surrounding them.
"Others have considered history from the point of view of power, judging its course in terms of victory and defeat, wealth and success; the prophets look at history from the point of view of justice, judging its course in terms of righteousness and corruption, of compassion and violence" (219).
Still, the more one reads the communal perspective of the prophets, the more strange become the deep individualism and pietism of much of Christian faith, whether Roman, Protestant, or Eastern. All our traditions show a deep divide with the concerns of the prophets, and then we force our individualism on Jesus, though His teaching directly repeats their perspective.
At the same time, every Christian tradition has sub-traditions that follow Jesus and the prophets. Still, how to explain the divide between the concerns of Jesus/the prophets and a precisionist concern about where our soul would go if we died tonight. That is our evangelism, but it doesn't dominate the horizon of Jesus and the prophets (and I'd add, not Paul's or the other apostles' either).
I suspect there's a political/social answer for our deep pietism (even in those traditions, such as the Reformed, which pretend to denounce pietism). Historically, individualism and pietism and a general overemphasis on the inward tends to accompany those who have been compromised by systems of Mammon. This clearly happened to the Pharisees, once dangerously social but then tamed by Rome. And perhaps the same thing happened to Protestants when we sided primarily with German nobles and Elizabeth's quests for gold and American nuclear domination. In other words, once we surrender to Mammon, we're allowed only nonthreatening, private religion, nothing that would provoke persecution.
Apart from being provocative on a few points, the book overall didn't knock me over. Much of it was common knowledge but still good.
Neat opening line: 'This book is about some of the most disturbing people who ever lived.'
This near-classic treatment of the prophets, written by Jewish theologian, Abraham Heschel, is full of helpful insights and reorientations of perspective. I only read the first half of the book, since the latter discussion of the psychology of ecstasy and such didn't interest me.
But the main section on OT prophets reinforced my sense that the biblical prophets saw the message or gospel of God as clearly focused on communal justice and even perhaps foreign policy, not on our post-Reformation obsession with individual salvation.
The book also highlighted how idolatry, too, was not some individual doctrinal error (the way we assume) but itself an alien politics and economics. To worship Assyrian or Egyptian gods was not just to worship a god of a different personal trait. It was to embrace an opposing politics, an opposing way of life.
The book also highlighted the prophets' continual denunciations of violence and war (I hadn't realized how many). At the same time, their general opposition to violence and military might set them not only at odds with the conservatism of their day but also with the violent pagan systems surrounding them.
"Others have considered history from the point of view of power, judging its course in terms of victory and defeat, wealth and success; the prophets look at history from the point of view of justice, judging its course in terms of righteousness and corruption, of compassion and violence" (219).
Still, the more one reads the communal perspective of the prophets, the more strange become the deep individualism and pietism of much of Christian faith, whether Roman, Protestant, or Eastern. All our traditions show a deep divide with the concerns of the prophets, and then we force our individualism on Jesus, though His teaching directly repeats their perspective.
At the same time, every Christian tradition has sub-traditions that follow Jesus and the prophets. Still, how to explain the divide between the concerns of Jesus/the prophets and a precisionist concern about where our soul would go if we died tonight. That is our evangelism, but it doesn't dominate the horizon of Jesus and the prophets (and I'd add, not Paul's or the other apostles' either).
I suspect there's a political/social answer for our deep pietism (even in those traditions, such as the Reformed, which pretend to denounce pietism). Historically, individualism and pietism and a general overemphasis on the inward tends to accompany those who have been compromised by systems of Mammon. This clearly happened to the Pharisees, once dangerously social but then tamed by Rome. And perhaps the same thing happened to Protestants when we sided primarily with German nobles and Elizabeth's quests for gold and American nuclear domination. In other words, once we surrender to Mammon, we're allowed only nonthreatening, private religion, nothing that would provoke persecution.
Apart from being provocative on a few points, the book overall didn't knock me over. Much of it was common knowledge but still good.
Neat opening line: 'This book is about some of the most disturbing people who ever lived.'