The End of the Beginning (1)
For Ezra had set his heart to seek the law of YHWH, and to do it, and to teach in Israel statutes and ordinances Ezra 7:10 JPS 1917
To seek – In a footnote, Gordon Tucker wrote, “It is worth noting that this verse expresses something of historic importance. Previously, the root drsh was used for seeking out God, that is, for consulting an oracle, a priest, or a prophet. Now it is being used for the teaching of God, for the Torah. Ezra begins to inquire of a text, and thus are we signaled that the era of prophecy is at an end. Ezra is not a prophet but ‘scribe,’ a man of the Book.”[1]
Ezra marks the end of the prophetic age. Such a sad thing. A critically important means of communication between God and men fades away. There are no more Isaiahs, Jeremiahs, Obediahs. Now we have only “the Book,” and frankly, what a mess we’ve made with that. Books are written and therefore subject to interpretation. Prophets come with words, but those words are spoken, subject to clarification, open to dialogue. A book does not speak. It only provides a record of what was once spoken, and is therefore only one side of a conversation, as any of Paul’s letters clearly demonstrate. Prophets provide full duplex interaction. Books provide half duplex interpretation. The very fact that Christianity and Judaism can use the same “book” and come up with entirely different understanding underscores the failure of a post-prophetic era.
With one exception. Yeshua was a prophet. He spoke God’s words. It’s not surprising that he never wrote anything. Prophets proclaim. Prophets announce. Prophets voice what God wants communicated. Prophets are not scribes. When the disciples heard Yeshua, they recognized that voice of a prophet, someone who had been long absent from Israel. That’s why they followed. A prophet from God had returned. As Peter said, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life” (John 6:68). Today we live in a world of scribes. The rabbis, the commentators, the theologians—they are all second-hand instruments. They don’t have the words of life; they mimic them. We don’t have the words of life; we read them. There’s an enormous chasm between listening to Yeshua and reading about Yeshua.
Ezra introduced a fatal flaw in our relationship with God. He shifted the playing field from experience to examination. We often bemoan the fact that Abraham had a direct experience with God without a book. But perhaps our complaints are self-generated. Perhaps we are scribes too. We rely on the book. We search the book. We seek God in the book. We have become Ezras, and have convinced ourselves that this is the right path, the true path, the only path. We have blinded ourselves to the reality that God never used a book before men decided that a book was sufficient. Of course, that doesn’t mean a book isn’t useful. It is—as a record of God’s previous interaction. But is that enough? Is it sufficient? Or is there some part of you that longs for a conversationalist, a speaker of God, a two-way interaction, audible, present, human?
Topical Index: prophet, book, spoken, scribe, Ezra 7:10
[1] Gordon Tucker, in Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations (ed. and trans. by Gordon Tucker, Continuum International Publishing Group, New York, 2007), p. 252, fn. 45.
