Prophets at the Door

Prophets

at the Door

a novel

David L. Whitney

Copyright 2011 David L. Whitney

Revised ebook edition, 2015

Smashwords Edition

License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your individual enjoyment. It may not be reproduced or re-sold. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you.

Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations by Donna Castillo are from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1946, 1952, 1971 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA. Used by permission.

To Judy,

with love and gratitude

Contents

Preface: Real-life heroes.

Timeline of the Prophets

1. JOSHUA: My prophets will not disappoint you.

2. OBADIAH: Divine revelation is complex.

3. JONAH: This is no fairy tale.

4. JAKE: That’s not how you spell profit.

5. JOEL: It’s all about parallelism.

6. AMOS: If I’m real, you have a serious problem.

7. HOSEA: I redeemed Gomer; I bought her back.

8. ISAIAH: I saw things I’d never seen before.

9. MICAH: God is making his point very clearly.

10. NAHUM: God’s problem is that you’re not angry.

11. ZEPHANIAH: So you actually read my book!

12. JEREMIAH: I was considered a traitor.

13. HABAKKUK: God can’t be measured.

14. DANIEL: It’s all about godly living.

15. LONNIE: I hurt too much to try again.

16. EZEKIEL: Don’t expect me to be normal.

17. HAGGAI: Ability to jump-start projects.

18. ZECHARIAH: Looking through a telescope.

19. MALACHI: Third-person-direct questions.

20. ELIJAH: My job was done.

Factual Summaries of the Prophets

About the Author

Preface

Real-life heroes.

For many of us, there is a gaping hole in the middle of the Bible. It begins at Isaiah and ends after Malachi – the sixteen writing prophets. They were called the Nevi’im, a word we translate as prophets. But who were they? What did they say? When did they say it? Who cares? Unfortunately, that last question generally trumps all the others.

They are part of the Bible, we assure ourselves, but for our lives today, they seem irrelevant.

One day I purchased a copy of Abraham Heschel’s incomparable book, The Prophets. It opened their world to me. Then, during a planning session at church, I volunteered to teach a Sunday school class – on the prophets! In preparation I read everything I could find about them. And, of course, I read the prophets themselves – out loud – in order to get the feel of their oratory.

Not long after the classes ended, I wondered; What if the prophets stepped out of eternity for a series of twenty-first century visits? How would we receive them? What would they say to us? Thinking thus, I began to write. Months later, Prophets at the Door was completed.

This story is fictional. The prophets, however, are not. They were real men who lived and spoke long ago; but while their environment differed vastly from ours, their story is not captive of their ancient era. Their inspired words still live today. These men are the real-life heroes of this fictional story.

Timeline of the Prophets

The dates mark the historic beginning of a prophet’s ministry.*

BC

850 Obadiah

762 Jonah

- Joel

760 Amos

755 Hosea

740 Isaiah

735 Micah

722 Israel falls to the Assyrians.

The 10 Northern Tribes are deported.

660 Nahum

640 Zephaniah

626 Jeremiah

606 Habakkuk

605 Daniel

593 Ezekiel

586 Jerusalem destroyed by the Babylonians.

538 Persian King Cyrus’ decree.

The Jews return to Jerusalem.

520 Haggai

520 Zechariah

430 Malachi

6 (born) John the Baptist

5 (born) Jesus Christ, the Messiah

* The author is indebted to many sources for this chronology, which represents best estimates based on the scholarship of others.

1

JOSHUA

My prophets will not disappoint you.

[These are] some of the most disturbing people

who have ever lived: the men whose inspiration

brought the Bible into being – the men whose image

is our refuge in distress, and whose voice and

vision sustain our faith.

ABRAHAM J. HESCHEL, The Prophets

The old man stood at the door, his dark form outlined against the early evening grayness of the wet street. He felt miserable, wishing he’d not been given this assignment. He lacked confidence, and longed to have the old fire back, that reckless sense of mission that had once driven him. Back then, he hadn’t given a fig for the feelings or opinions of others. Tonight, however, things were different. He had learned mercy and grace over many years, and it troubled him to think that twelve people were about to have their world turned upside-down.

He took a deep breath. Then, nodding his head in acquiescence, he knocked, ignoring the doorbell button beside the door. No response. He knocked again. A moment later, it opened.

Is this the home of Jacob Pels? he asked.

Yes, I’m Jake Pels, said the man in the doorway. He hesitated, looking at the old man standing there in the rain, and then asked tentatively, Are you… are you… Obadiah?

Yes.

I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the bell. Please come in. Jake sounded a little flustered.

The old man stepped inside and removed his hat, water dripping on the carpet. He looked at it apologetically, managed a worried smile, but said nothing. His long hair was gunmetal gray, thinning on top, and plastered against his scalp where the hat had sat.

Jake Pels looked over his shoulder into the large great room where several people sat in speechless immobility. No help there. Oh, here, let me take that, he said, reaching for the hat. And your coat too.

Thank you.

A tall young woman stepped forward. Hello, I’m Angela. Jake’s my husband. Welcome, Mr. Obadiah.

Thank you.

Let me introduce you to our group. She led him into the room. All rose as the two reached the circle of chairs.

Well, everyone, said Angela, this is our special guest for the evening. She glanced at a note in her hand. Mr. Obadiah, let me introduce, there by the fireplace, Al and Tricia Saunders. Next to them are the Randalls, Dick and Willa, and there by the big window, Donna Castillo.

With each introduction, the old man bowed slightly.

Angela pointed to a middle-aged man in the corner. That’s Martin Novak, and at the sofa we have Inga and Paul Ulbreit, and finally, by the old clock there, Mike and Deborah Rosen.

The old man continued to bow politely to each, and with the introduction of the Rosens, finally spoke. Rosen, that’s Jewish, isn’t it?

Uh, yes it is.

I didn’t know you were Jewish, said Willa Randall. Honey, did you know Mike and Deborah were Jewish?

Hush, Willa, whispered her husband.

I’m honored to meet you all, said Obadiah. Shalom. May God’s peace descend on this house and upon you all. Then he turned to the Rosens and repeated, Shalom, Micah and Deborah.

How did you know my name was Micah?

They told me before I came here. By the way, I think you’ll enjoy meeting your namesake. He’ll be visiting your group just before Christmas.

Micah the prophet?

The same.

No one spoke.

Finally, Jake said, Well, everyone, here we are. He gave a nervous laugh. This is going to be a very interesting evening.

Look at this, whispered Angela, handing Jake a piece of paper. It was the previous Sunday, and they were seated in church. The organist had just begun the prelude. This was Jake’s favorite part of the service, and he really didn’t want to read anything at the moment. He always felt that music was the closest thing to worship, everything else being more-or-less religious propaganda, and here was Bach filling the sanctuary and turning Jake’s mind to timeless matters and away from the mundane. Reluctantly, he looked at the bulletin insert Angela had given him, lifting his eyebrows in mild rebuke.

On plain off-white paper, a bearded man in a rough homespun shirt stared out from the page with a look of fierce commitment on his weathered face. Above his image were the bold words: The Prophets: Voices Crying in the Wilderness. Quickly scanning the copy beneath, Jake’s eye caught the phrase men of God or mystic psychotics? and he noted what looked to be an invitation to some sort of class. He shrugged, caught Angela’s eye with a half-smile, and handed back the notice as if to say, not now, Sweetheart, later maybe. But as he returned his attention to J.S. Bach, Jake Pels had a disquieting sense that he had just seen the immediate future. Angela tucked the notice into her purse.

Crossing the parking lot after church, Jake and Angela heard their names called. They turned and waited as a man approached – tall, athletic looking, with an open, friendly face and dark hair – wearing gray slacks with a navy blue blazer.

Good morning, he said as he drew near. I know you’re new here, but I wanted to say that I’m glad you came. He smiled, and extended his hand. I’m Joshua. He gestured with his head toward the church with its gray stone façade and lofty bell tower. My church.

Are you one of the ministers? asked Angela.

Well, yes, but unofficially. I work at keeping things focused on worship.

Oh, said Angela.

How did you know who we were? said Jake.

I read the welcome pads that everyone fills out. Saw your names there along with the Peters and the Zhou family in pew 27. And that leads me to what I wanted to ask you. As you read in your insert in today’s bulletin, we’re organizing a special study group on Bible prophets. I hope you’ll be part of it. There’ll be just a dozen or so people, mostly from the church here. The group will meet in someone’s home for the next few months.

Uh, I don’t think… Jake began, but Angela cut him off.

Could you tell us a little more?

Sure. It seems to me that most people today have no idea who or what the prophets were. Joshua held up a Bible, and shook his head. Here we have the Bible and there’s a huge chunk right in the middle that no one ever reads – it’s like those men and women lived in a totally irrelevant age.

It is irrelevant, isn’t it? said Jake.

You’re right. But not because it’s intrinsically irrelevant, it’s irrelevant because we have made it so. Like soap is irrelevant for those who don’t bathe, or like bread is irrelevant when you’re fasting.

And you think that somehow, by studying these prophets, we can connect to them, said Angela. But what then? I mean, how can they say anything to me today? Seems to me that’s the real test of relevance.

Well said, Angela! Joshua beamed at her. What I’m hoping is that you two will take a little step of faith and join the group, because if you do, I believe you’ll find that the prophets still speak to people over the millennia that separate you. I think you’ll find relevance.

He looked at them – at Angela, then Jake. Well, what do you say?

They in turn looked at each other, Angela with a hopeful widening of her eyes, Jake with a doubtful narrowing of his. Neither spoke. They moved aside as an SUV rolled past them toward the street.

Joshua broke the stalemate. That’s okay, think about it. Can I call you early in the week?

That would be fine, Angela smiled. Jake opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Jake was in the shower early on Monday morning when the call came.

Wow, when you say ‘early in the week,’ you mean early! Angela smiled into her cell phone.

Well, I know you both leave for work soon, so I thought I’d catch you before then. Besides, I have some other calls to make and time is precious.

Jake’s not available at the moment. Angela laughed, Actually, Joshua, he’s in the shower. Shall I have him call you back?

No need, he replied. You’re half of the family, so you’re the spokesperson by default. Can I count on you and Jake being part of my group?

Suddenly, Angela felt alone. Joshua, we talked about it. We think it’s an interesting idea, but Jake feels – well, he feels like it’s not where he is right now. Um, it’s hard to explain, but Jake’s not very much into formal religion at this point in his life. I sort of had to talk him into going to church.

I understand.

Well, that’s good, because I don’t. I believe in God and all that, but it just seems like I can’t make the connection.

Like you’re a human appliance looking for somewhere to plug in, said Joshua.

Yeah, that’s it, I think. Like the power has got to be out there somewhere. Just wish I knew where.

Angela, I guarantee you that the power is there. I think this group study may help you and Jake to find what you’re looking for.

There was a long silence on the phone during which, for some strange reason, Angela felt her anxiety and doubt gradually dropping from off-the-chart to mildly apprehensive. She sighed, Okay, Joshua. Jake will kill me, but okay. We’ll do it.

That’s great. I promise you, my prophets will not disappoint you. And if Jake kills you, he’ll have me to answer to. Now, about a few details…

Those few details included the fact that, since Angela and Jake lived in a large house with a spacious great room, they would host the study group, which would meet twice a month on Thursday evenings, beginning this week. Four other couples and two single individuals would join the Pels.

You’ll like Al and Tricia Saunders. Al’s a pharmaceutical rep. He reminds me a lot of Reggie White. Do you remember him?

No.

Black football player, defensive end for the Green Bay Packers. They called him the ‘minister of defense.’ Tricia, Al’s wife, works for an investment firm.

Oh.

Let’s see, then there’s Dick Randall and Willa. She is a very sweet lady. He’s retired, spends most of his time managing her. It’s a challenge. Joshua chuckled. Donna Castillo’s a high school teacher – literature. She’s only been teaching for a couple of years, but the kids all love her. She’s got what I call a ‘teacher’s heart.’ Another couple, Micah and Deborah Rosen, are medical people. She’s an administrator at a local women’s clinic, and he works at St. Mary’s Hospital in the E.R. Very busy young couple, a lot like you and Jake in that regard. You’ll like them. And you’ll also have the Ulbreits. Paul works for the city zoning department and Inga runs a nursery school. They’re like oil and water. Paul’s trying hard to be a cynic and Inga’s trying hard to keep a positive outlook in life.

What do you mean?

Joshua hesitated. Paul Ulbreit’s carrying a heavy burden, Angela. But I won’t prejudice your attitude by saying more. I trust you with what I’ve already said. And don’t worry, he’s going to come through it okay.

Okay, she said.

And the last member of your group is Martin Novak, a retired naval officer. Martin’s a widower. No family, few friends. This little group will do him a lot of good.

Angela had been writing names and information in her personal speedy-note style, barely keeping up with the enthusiastic Joshua. She took a breath. Anything else?

No, I don’t think so. You may know some of these folks by sight. The Saunders and Randalls attend your church. Oh, there is one more thing…

That one more thing was the interesting fact that Joshua had arranged for a prophet to visit them during each of their meetings.

What? Angela’s pencil made a big question mark on her note pad.

To visit you. It occurred to me, Angela, that if you really want to get to know these men, you have to meet them personally, talk to them, ask questions, hear about their lives first-hand. So, I’ve arranged for each of them come to your home, usually one at a time, and mostly in chronological order.

I don’t understand. You mean you’ve hired actors to play their parts?

There’s nothing to worry about, Joshua assured her. No special preparation, no kosher food even, he laughed. "Nothing