A Friend of Souls
There are hermit souls that live withdrawn,
In the place of their self–content;
There are souls like stars that dwell apart
In a fellow-less firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze a path
Where highways never ran;
Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
And be a friend to man.
— Samuel Walter Foss
Warm–up: Genesis 14:18–20
Consider Abraham, returning from the raid on Chedorlaomer and his coalition of Mesopotamian kings—battle scarred, exhausted, fearful, aware that he had angered four of the most powerful kings of that era.There in the Valley of Shaveh, Abraham is met by Melchizedek, King of Salem, who brings out bread and wine and blesses him.
Who is this great high priest who blesses our father Abraham? “Without doubt the lesser is blessed by the greater” (Hebrews 7:7).
We know very little about Melchizedek—only that he was the king of Salem (ancient Jerusalem), that he was “a priest of God Most High,” that he fed and blessed the famished Abraham, and then passed off the scene.
Much is made of his name, which means “King of Righteousness,” but it was a common throne name in those days. (The name is written in two parts if it were a title rather than a personal name.)
So, I ask you, who was this king–priest who has been lionized in the history of Israel and in the Church? The Essenes of Qumran thought he was an angel; the philosopher Philo believed he was the divine Logos; the historian Josephus said he was just a righteous man, “but as such was by common consent…made a priest of God.”
David rightly saw Melchizedek as a prototype of the promised Messiah who would establish a new order of king–priests (Psalms 110:1-4).
The author of Hebrews, taking the argument further, said that he is like Jesus, who is a priest despite his non–levitical ancestry, whose title is “King of Righteousness” and “King of Peace,” and who, because he appears in the account without beginning or end of life, “remains a priest forever” (Hebrews 7:2-3).
David and the writer of Hebrews have the last word, of course— Melchizedek is a type of Jesus. But, as Josephus correctly noted, he was also a man, and as such is an example of the kind of man I want to be.
I want to be a friend of souls. I want to stand by the way as Melchizedek did, waiting for weary travelers, “….laying low, in the places where the ragged people go.”
I want to look for those who have been battered and wronged by others, who carry the dreary burden of a wounded and disillusioned heart. I want to nourish and refresh them with bread and wine and send them on their way with a benediction.
“To bless,” is to “bestow something that promotes or contributes to another’s happiness, well-being, or prosperity.” The Hebrew word comes from a root that means, “to kneel,” perhaps because of an old association between kneeling and receiving good from a benefactor.
In the Old Testament God is the benefactor. He alone bestows the blessing. “This is how you are to bless the Israelites,” God commanded Moses. “Say to them: ‘The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face towards you and give you peace’” (Number 6:24-26).
I cannot strengthen feeble hands, nor can I straighten knees that have given away, but I can bring weary travelers to the one who can. His bread gives endurance, strength and eternal consolation. His wine gladdens the heart and sustains it.
I cannot undo the cruel or dreary circumstances of anyone’s journey, nor can I take away its travail, but I can remind those who trudge by that there is one who walks with them—who holds them with his right hand, who guides them with his counsel, and afterward will take them into glory.
I cannot help the helpless, but I can pray with them and bring them to the throne of grace to find help in time of need. I cannot show them the way, but I can “show them God” (John Piper).
This is my benediction.
From, Out of the Ordinary, David Roper, Discovery House Publishing, 2015.
