Skip to main content

On Prophets and Purpose

My favorite Biblical story has always been the Genesis tale of Joseph, abandoned by his brothers and left for dead, then imprisoned by the Pharoah in a strange land.  Joseph survived the abuse by his siblings and not only discovered  purpose but reinvented and elevated himself by interpreting the dreams of the Pharoah.  People often assign psychic abilities to Joseph but I agree with those critics who see this error: it was not Joseph who was the psychic; it was  Pharoah.  Joseph was merely the translator of  dream.  The dream itself was an expression of the Divine.

Joseph Campbell identifies dreams as a great source of the spirit, and those who do metaphysical work know this.  Dreams are vivid and visual and often more revelatory than waking consciousness. The irony is that we sometimes go through our waking life in a stupor while our dreams shock us into the more potent reality.    I cherish my dreams; some of my most profound recognitions occurred in the dream state.  Many of them involved animals, like the wolf who came to me during a physical attack in which I defended myself violently.  I picked up a pillowcase full of bricks and was swinging it wildly to neutralize my attackers, when  suddenly the contents changed shape and I felt something soft and warm and alive inside.   I opened the pillowcase to find wolf pups. One of them emerged and said,  "Stop.  When you hurt one of us, you hurt all of us."  I carry this message in my heart every time I am tempted to strike back at someone who hurts me, and believe me, I am often very tempted.

Thus the wolf comes to me as a prophet.  Fundamentalists of any religion restrict use of that word to Biblical context and appear indignant when it is used outside of Scripture (Isaiah, Elijah, Jeremiah -- these were the only prophets).   Last week this came up unexpectedly in a chaplaincy  course I'm taking with five clergymen  and a religious school teacher from various Christian and Jewish traditions.  The Baptist shared his calling to ministry.  An Orthodox Jewish teacher asked, "What's a calling?"  He said, "It's a calling from God."  Perplexed, she continued, "I don't understand."  I jumped in as mediator:  "What's that smoke on the mountain, Moses?"  The African Methodist Episcopal supervisor agreed, "Yes, like Moses getting the call from God."  The confused woman looked at the Baptist and said with machine gun speed, "But Moses was a prophet.  You're not."  I was disturbed.

After class she and I engaged in our usual 20 minute reflective chat in the parking lot.  She  worried that she might have reacted  abruptly;  her experience doesn't include people who hear God's voice.  She asked me, "Do you think God talks to you?"  I said, "Yes, you don't?"  She was adamant.  "No.  Never.  God doesn't talk to people.  We learn about God through the Torah.  No one is a prophet."

I took a breath and a risk because I would be demonstrating why I am no longer bound to Judaism, the religion of my birth.  "God talks to me.  God talks to the Baptist minister.  God talks to the young man who decides to be a priest or the woman who answers the call in the convent.  It's a voice, a message from a consciousness that is much higher than one's physical self.  In this sense we are prophets.  I am a prophet. I may not be leading masses across a raging sea, but if I bring one person to the Light then I am a prophet."

I hold this truth to be self evident (with apologies to Jefferson).   We are all prophets when we listen to  higher consciousness.

Webster defines prophet in multiple ways:
one who utters divinely inspired revelations: as
a often capitalized : the writer of one of the prophetic books of the Bible
b capitalized : one regarded by a group of followers as the final authoritative revealer of God's will Prophet of Allah>
2
: one gifted with more than ordinary spiritual and moral insight; especially : an inspired poet 
I go further and  rely both on experience and Joseph Campbell's western articulation of mythological concepts: animals are often the messengers of that higher  realm.  Tribal folk, mediums, meditators, psychics will attest to that.  

Whether household companions, visitors in the wild, or teachers in our dreamtime,  animals are often our prophets, spiritual messengers bringing gifts of comfort and wisdom, even if that comfort and wisdom is sheer presence.

This week the Pope declared the Christmas manger  a piece of inaccurate  modern fiction.  For obvious reasons, I choose to discard this.  I like the myth, the love it propagates, the four legged and winged love, inter-species, inter-dimensional love.

The holiday season is upon us.  May you find feathers at your feet.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

God's Covenant with Animals in the Old Testament

What is our human responsibility to the earth and its non-human inhabitants? Traditional Biblical scholars would say one of master-servant and ecologists would say one of caretaker. However, using either frame, neither movement has responded in full view of the evidence presented throughout the Bible that God clearly included animals in covenantal relationships with Biblical scholars neglecting the sanctity of animals and secular environmentalists neglecting God. A closer look at the Old Testament reveals that God designed humankind’s role in relation to the animals as one of stewardship rather than domination. Traditionally religious people often cite Scripure justify a master/servant relationship between humans and animals rather than one of partnership, but deeper investigation invites us to see texts rich with references, both literal and figurative, to the partnership between humankind and the animal world. From Genesis through Prophets and Wisdom Literature, the writers of the Ol...

Animals, Divorce, Picador: Living in the Moment

I once heard George Carlin say dogs can't tell time; they don't differentiate between one minute and one day, so when we leave them, upon our return we get the same exuberant greeting whether we were gone for three hours or three seconds. This merits some thought. Is it that animals don't recognize time or that they don't worship time the way we do? We obsess over time lost and time coming; we struggle to retrieve the past, seeking some previously missed key to consequences we endure in our ongoing life sagas. Or we project and fantasize about the future, what will be, what could be, what we want. Doing so, we miss the present moment, the essence of a happy life. The Buddhists teach us that by living in the moment, we have no expectations and feel neither sorrow nor disappointment. So sensible. So difficult. Do our animals experience disappointment and resentment? If they do, such states are momentary. I am still winding through my fresh divorce, which I know in my hea...

Surviving the Loss of a Pet: Tips to Get Through the Grief

Your animal has died and you are distraught. You have never felt such deep and prolonged loss and are afraid to share this with others who will minimize and perhaps dismiss your pain as misplaced or trivial. Wrong. All of us who have shared life with (not "owned") animals have entered and emerged from this unavoidable black hole, and we'll likely revisit it as long as we live with animals whose life spans do not equal ours in measure. What can you do with this grief? 1. Give yourself permission to grieve, and give your self permission to grieve hard. Experience it. Embrace it, even. It's real and it's potent. Avoiding grief, burying it, masking it, will guarantee its future re-emergence as a larger and more devastating threat to your well being. 2. Remember. Remember the joy and mischief, the silly songs and the serious training, the intimacy and the frustration, the quiet support and cuddles your dog gave you when he sensed you needed them most. 3. Talk ...