We often fail to recognize the prophet's true role within our communities and institutions, especially within religious traditions. The prophet is not simply a disruptor or an outsider—they are, in many ways, a faithful insider. The prophet’s task is not to reject the traditions and values of their people, but to offer a critique from within that challenges the community to live more authentically according to its deepest values. The prophets were radical traditionalists whose conservatism ironically made them into tearful and empathetic "progressives" by contemporary standards. [1] This paradox is key to understanding the prophet’s unique function: they are not aiming to dismantle tradition but to revitalize it. The prophet’s love for their people is what makes their critique powerful. They seek a return to the core principles of justice, compassion, and integrity, which may have been forgotten or obscured by the passage of time. The prophet, then, is not an enemy of tradition but its most faithful advocate, demanding that it fulfill its original promise to nurture the well-being of all members of the community, particularly the vulnerable (Isaiah 1:11-17; Jeremiah 7:4-8).
Yet today, we face a disturbing lack of such internal critique within our institutions—whether religious, political, or social. We seldom see such truth-telling prophets, mainly because there is no one to offer much internal and intelligent critique of their own side. [1] This absence creates fertile ground for corruption and complacency, as those in power go unchallenged and unaccountable. Without the voice of the prophet, who is able to see beyond the surface and offer a clear-eyed, sometimes painful truth, institutions lose their moral compass. The result is often a crisis of truth, where people no longer know whom to trust or where to turn for reliable guidance (Jeremiah 5:30-31). This is why the role of the prophet is so vital: they expose the cracks in the facade of institutions and demand that we face our failings. The prophet serves as a mirror, holding up to the community a reflection that can be uncomfortable but ultimately clarifying.
This erosion of trust has led to a pervasive sense of doubt in our society. Maybe it is not even possible for us to believe that anyone ever speaks truth? [1] In a world where facts are manipulated, leaders are often self-interested, and truth is constantly contested, it’s no wonder we struggle to believe in the possibility of genuine moral authority. When truth is distorted and the voices of integrity are drowned out, it becomes increasingly difficult for people to trust that anyone can speak the truth without ulterior motives. This skepticism is a powerful force, one that can leave us feeling disillusioned and detached from the moral fabric that holds communities together. Yet it is precisely in such a climate that the role of the prophet becomes crucial. The prophet not only speaks the truth but embodies it, demonstrating through their actions and words that truth is still possible. The prophet is the embodiment of trust, and through their faithful witness, they offer a lifeline to those seeking clarity in the midst of confusion (Jeremiah 6:14-16).
The call to reclaim the prophetic voice is not just about criticizing the wrongs we see in the world; it is about recovering the vital role of critique within every institution that seeks to uphold moral authority. My hope and desire in writing this book is that we can recover the universal need for the role of prophet and prophetess in any group seeking moral authority, while also seeking to create and validate lovers and not just critics. [1] This recovery is essential because the prophet’s critique comes from a place of deep love, not from a desire to tear down but to build up. The prophet’s love for their people and their traditions gives weight and authenticity to their critique. They are not driven by a need to attack, but by a desire to heal and transform. In this way, the prophet serves as a bridge between the community’s highest ideals and its current failings, helping to lead it toward a better, more just future (Jeremiah 7:11, Mark 11:17).
What is often overlooked, however, is that the prophet is not just a critic from the outside but someone deeply embedded within the community. We need someone who is on the loving but critical edge of any developing in-group, a truth-seeker who has dealt with his or her own wounds. [1] The prophet’s critique is not dispassionate; it comes from a place of empathy and personal experience. The prophet is someone who has lived within the community, who knows its strengths and weaknesses, and who has confronted their own suffering. This makes their critique both credible and compassionate. They do not stand apart from the community but within it, and their role as a critic is never divorced from their role as a healer. The prophet’s ability to offer truth with love, to challenge and to nurture, is what sets them apart. They are not wounded wounders, but wounded healers, seeking to bring about transformation not by destruction, but through restoration and reconciliation (Isaiah 1:17; Jeremiah 6:14).
Finally, this call to recover the prophetic voice is not only about our need for critique—it is also about reimagining the very nature of faith and spirituality in our time. Maybe such a new way of seeing would help us reclaim Jesus as the prophet of Christianity and thus reclaim Christianity itself as an ecclesia reformata sed semper reformanda: a religion that speaks of reformation not in the past tense, as something that happened once or twice in Europe, but something that is always reforming itself. [1] This understanding of reformation as an ongoing process, one that never ceases, is crucial for a faith that is living and dynamic. Christianity—like any faith tradition—must continually reform itself, always returning to the core principles of justice, love, and compassion (Matthew 21:13). It is not enough to look back to moments of past reform; we must embrace reformation as a continuous, active process. This is the task of the prophet: to keep calling the community back to its deepest and most authentic values, constantly challenging it to grow and evolve. By embracing this ongoing reformation, we allow the prophetic voice to guide us toward a future of deeper connection, greater justice, and more profound love.
[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things