On Sunday the sermon was about prophets. It began with tinkling of bells on the hem of Zechariah the priest's robes as he went to take the incense offering into the Holy of Holies. While there, he encountered the angel of the Lord, who told him that his wife, Elizabeth, in her old age would bear a child. "How will I know this?" asks Zechariah. For this Zechariah is speechless until his son is born. Zechariah's speechlessness speaks volumes. Then, on regaining his voice, he sings a hymn of praise. His son, John the Baptist, offers the Good News in a very different way than Zechariah -he is like a magnet-a-phone.
The point of the sermon was that for a short moment in time Zechariah and John were proclaimers of Good News; they were prophets for a particular time and in a particular place. Are we ever called to be bearers of Good News? To be prophetic for a short moment of time in the place where we find ourselves?
At the end of the sermon, as the pulpit was vacated, a loud "thank-you" came from the back of the church. Then the gentlemen walked out of the building. This gentlemen came back in shortly, as the congregation was singing. He walked right up to the altar and handed me two plaques. Both were black with gold writing; one said "love", the other "home". Then he left again.
The gentlemen's name is Brian. He lives on the margin of society, often spending the night on the street. He is part of the neighbourhood and will stop to tell stories about his grandmother, his faith, some of his life experiences. He passes on treasures from one person to another, to bring joy, to share love.
Sunday morning Resurrection was awakened by two prophetic words: love and home. Sunday morning we were that for Brian, and reminded that that is our prophetic word for the world.
Thank-you Brian for being God's prophet in our midst.
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