Â鶹Éç

Available for over a year

Good morning. Another Booker Prize winner, another dystopia. The masterful Prophet Song, by writer Paul Lynch, chronicles the descent of an imagined Ireland into populist authoritarianism, against a background of global strife and shifting geopolitical forces. It joins other dystopian bestsellers from 1984 to The Handmaid’s Tale to the Hunger Games in telling stories that resemble conflicts and histories we have consigned to other times and other places. They make us face the possibility that life can quickly spiral out of control. What is it that fascinates us about dystopias? Given the present is so grim in many ways, why do we escape into fiction that takes us more closely into the very things we fear? Paul Lynch’s title, Prophet Song, might give us a clue. When I teach Old Testament classes, I often find that my students think that the biblical prophets predict the future. But that’s not really what they do. Prophets study the present, and paint the consequences of taking our present actions to their logical conclusions. They read the signs of the times, and say – those things which have happened at other times and in other places could happen here, too. You’re not immune. We might call them prophets of doom, but in fact they’re prophets of hope, because what they tell us, is that there’s still time. The doom they portray isn’t here yet, and the signs they identify remind us that it’s possible to change. Paul Lynch’s book explores the life of one woman and her children and the kind of desperate decision making that might lead a family to flee and become refugees. This book invites us to imagine the dilemma of whether to resist, accept or flee and seek refuge in another country. Maybe it is also an invitation to imagine what it would take to build a different future – for individuals and communities. Like all dystopias, Prophet Song makes us interrogate ourselves – our values, our choices, and the freedom of our compassion. It’s a book about elsewhere, and it’s a book about right here, right now. Yet dystopias only exist because we also have a vision of the alternative – of what life could be. The prophet Micah famously called his listeners to turn away from injustice, and instead, ‘do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God.’ as a remedy to impending doom. But prophets are rarely welcome, because they point to uncomfortable truths. It’s easier to read them as painting a distant dystopia, rather than take in their message – this could easily happen here, and you collectively have the power to stop it. Hope is still within reach.