Reflection This Week
Am I Not A Prophet, Or What?

Two weeks ago our oldest daughter, Christy, called to tell us that grandson Tyler had fallen off his bicycle and fractured his left wrist. That was no surprise. He had received a bike for his fifth birthday in April. It had training wheels on it, of course. But Tyler, being Tyler, quickly wanted to get rid of those wheels and ride two-wheeled like his big brother, Zachary. He did. With it came skinned knees and elbows: “constant scabs” in his mother’s words.

     A broken wrist was inevitable, and sooner rather than later. The morning after the phone call, as Arlena and I were getting ready to leave for work, I said to her, “This won’t be Tyler’s last visit to the emergency room for a broken bone.” Eight hours later another call came from Christy. Tyler had fallen at the playground in day care and his right fingers were swollen. Did Grandma think they might be broken? When Nurse Arlena asked Christy to push lightly on the fingers to see if it hurt and it did, she advised Christy to take Tyler to the emergency room. Sure enough, he had broken them. Am I not a prophet, or what?

     Well, yes and no. Yes, in the sense that a prophet is one who can read the signs of the times and make a rather accurate assessment of what might happen next. Little boys, especially active little boys like Tyler, are very likely going to wind up in the emergency room with a broken bone sometime in their young lives. They tend to have no fear of danger and no understanding of the consequences whenever they might fall victim to their innate recklessness. If understanding human nature and making assumptions about it is prophetic, then I am indeed a prophet.

     But to predict the future and get it right is not prophetic. It’s simply a lucky guess. I guessed right about Tyler. But Tyler could have gone the rest of his life without ever breaking another bone. Could have; he didn’t. Just don’t call me a prophet because I got it right this time. If one has to rely on human nature to be prophetic, one may be right more often than not; but one will be wrong too many times to boast about the successes one has had in prophesizing about what will happen.

     Nothing is inevitable except death. Everything else is at the mercy of free will (including, Ben Franklin notwithstanding, paying taxes) and the forces of nature. We cannot control nature, not totally anyway. We cannot control the actions of others and we cannot avoid accidents no matter how careful we are. We can control our will. Whether we do or not is the issue at hand and that is what makes some look like prophets, namely, that enough people do not do so.

     The “prophet” realizes that sin is the result of freely choosing to do that which we know we should not, to do that which is wrong. The “prophet” also realizes that too many people freely and willingly follow instincts, whims and even the crowd and do that which they know is dangerous, foolish or simply wrong even if it is not deemed sinful. The “prophet” can thus make assumptions about what is going to happen because the “prophet” knows that human nature being what it is often so predictable.

     Little boys are predictable. They rush headlong into danger. People caught up in a crowd are predictable. They act in ways they never would anywhere else. I am predicable. Put chocolate in front of me and I will eventually eat it. Little boys and Hawkeye fans and I can freely choose to act otherwise. The “prophet” can have a field day with us because the “prophet” knows, more likely than not, we won’t.

     Of course, the questions are: why won’t we and why don’t we?     WJP