Psalm of the Serene

When you came for me
I was beset with smiles of ravenous teeth.
Your form eclipsed the sun. You hovered above,
Rotating the world to where you must go.

In fear, I dared not cry out.
I was silenced by your horrid splendor.
It glimpsed you and thirst for unbearable things.
Desire gripped me by the throat.

Your dispassionate gaze boiled
Over-I thoughts.
Without hate or pleasure you cast your shadow
And my I was flayed.
You felt no joy or cruelty
Bisecting soul from flesh.

You purchased me with blood.
I was bought with a price of viscera.
Unburdened by conscience,
Your will is as immovable as your plum lips.

All my life I waited for you
Unaware of my anticipation.
In time I'll care nothing for you
And become one of your own.

Fallout of the Mountaintop Experience

The effect of Abraham's trial with Isaac had devastating effects on his family. Right as he's coming off the Mount Moriah, Scripture tells us that "Abraham returned to his men and they rose and went together to Beersheba; and Abraham dwelt in Beersheba (Gen 22:19)." What about Sarah? What about Isaac? It is assumed they were with him, but would that be a correct assumption?

Genesis 23:2 "So Sarah died in Kirjath Arba (that is, Hebron)..." Well, Abraham was a nomad. This might not be unusual for someone who moves around a lot. But we read on "...and Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her." Came from where? When he addresses the Sons of Heth, Abraham says "I am a foreigner and a visitor among you. Give me property...so I may bury my dead (23:4)." Abraham did not know the native Hittites and was not familiar with them. What had happened between Abraham and Sarah that was so traumatic to the relationship that they separated?

Isaac did not fare any better in his life. He is the least spiritual of all the patriarchs and though he receives God's blessing, his spiritual story is incredibly short. The faithfulness of Abraham's servant finding Isaac's wife is longer than the description of Isaac's entire adult life. God appears to him twice. The first time he obeys God (26:6). The second time he builds an altar (26:25). Other than that, Isaac is the bridegroom for Rebeka in the story of Abraham's faithful servant; he digs wells and gets into quarrels, but runs away whenever there is a conflict; at the end of his life, Isaac is the mark to his crafty son, Jacob. As far as patriarchs go, Isaac is a wash.

There is a commonly held belief that we view God through the filter of our father. A kind, understanding father or a fair but demanding father or a harsh and punitive father or even an absent father can establish our foundational beliefs about the Heavenly Father. What do you learn about God when your father ties you up and is about to stab you in the heart? Does it help when Abraham says he's doing this because God told him to? Was it reassuring when Abraham said "I'm glad I didn't have to kill you back there."? What about when Mom and Dad are arguing about the whole ordeal and Abraham justifies the act by saying "but I knew that God would have raised him from the dead!"? Did Isaac ever sleep well again in his father's company? Did he ever turn his back on his father? Was he always looking at what might be in Abraham's hand? How old was Isaac when he finally worked through the experience enough to build an altar himself?

Abraham, with his obedience, destroyed his family in deep, fundamental ways. His wife couldn't bear to be in the same town with him. He ruined his son's relationship with the God he followed so blindly.

Abraham's Epic Fail

Abraham holds high respect among Jews, Christians and Muslims for his famous demonstration of faith in his willingness to sacrifice his son. Genesis 22 tells how God asks Abraham to make a burnt offering of his son and the patriarch dutifully does the deed. Just as Isaac is about to become a a postscript in Biblical studies, there is a divine intervention and the boy is saved.

I find this story horribly offensive. Call me unfaithful or disobedient or sinful, but I would tell God "no" should he ever ask that of me. Let me rephrase. Not only would I say "no," but "hell no" - knowing full well I'm rebelling against the creator of the universe who can dish out Job-esque punishments to make this life and the next full of torment. Did I make myself clear? HELL NO!

I've come to the conclusion that maybe my response is right and Abraham was wrong. Allow me to rationalize my sinful disobedience: what if the test was not a test of obedience, but a test of human compassion? Abraham pretty much proves his obedience time and again. Let me break it down for you.

God himself speaks to Abraham (not an uncommon occurrence to this point) and says "Take now your son, your only son, whom you love...and offer him as a burnt offering (Gen 22:2)." Abraham doesn't express shock (infanticide is a common religious practice at the time); he doesn't protest, doesn't negotiate and doesn't refuse. He wakes up early to get 'er done.

Note that Isaac is old enough to walk and talk and carry enough wood for a bonfire (Gen 22:6-7). He's old enough to question and become suspicious of his own father's motives. I'd venture to say he's old enough to remember this event into his adulthood. At what point did Isaac start crying in terror? As he was being bound, did he try to reason with his father? Plead for his life? Did Abraham turn a deaf ear or did he tell his son that this was all God's will? How deep did the ropes cut as Isaac fought to free himself? When Abraham raised the knife did Isaac scream or wince or just weep in hopeless acceptance?

When Abraham draws back the knife, just before the point of no return, he is stopped. By God's messenger. I've been in a corporate job long enough to know what it means when the boss doesn't want to deal with you anymore. Arrange it with my secretary. I'm going to let the district manager handle it from here. Call my people. God himself makes the request, but he sends a lackey to stop the horror. Abraham screwed up. Screwed up so bad God doesn't want any more to do with him. No where else in scripture does God, or even a messenger of God for that matter, speak to Abraham ever again.

Why would God do this? I mean, the text reads "because you have not withheld your son, your only son, I will bless you (Gen 22:16-17)." Wait a second, what did he say before as he was giving the command? He forgot to say something. A little prepositional phrase "whom you love." In the way my Bible is edited these two verses appear nearly side-by-side in two columns and that phrase is clearly missing. In a part of the Scripture criticized by modern readers as being too repetitive why isn't this blessing just repeated rote from the original decree? I'd venture it's because Abraham failed this test of love and compassion.

What about the blessing Abraham gets? Surely that means he was faithful and did what God wanted, right? Well, the reward is really nothing new, just a reiteration of the covenant already given. God's messenger is acting the gameshow host. "Awww. Nice try, but you didn't win this challenge. Don't feel bad though, you've still won $800 and a new cuisinart from the obedience round!" Abraham lost. He failed. This time, God didn't want obedience - he wanted lovingkindness.

Remember how I postulated that Isaac was old enough to remember this event? Next blog I'll talk about the consequences.

Time Travelling with Phil Collins

I was on hold at work and they had piped in muzak of Phil Collins' "One More Night." I was transported from my high-powered cubicle job to a simpler time: My Junior High Prom. Never had a school cafeteria been so magical! With a mirrorball, balloon arches and fold-out tables complete with tablecloths and the finest plastic punch bowls Fort Bend ISD's recreation budget could afford!

I wore my brand new one-size-too-big-oh-you'll-grow-into-it three piece suit and prowled the room. And by prowled the room, I mean stood against the back wall lifting my chin up to the ladies in the universal sign of "sup?" (That's a shortcut to awesome and I don't mind telling you about it so long as you give me the credit.)

I had gone stag for a very good reason. My mother told me that girls never settle for the first thing that comes their way. This was the first dance of the year and no way was I going to be a sucker. Instead, I'd play the field. Keep my options open. Show them I don't need them and thereby amplifying my own desirability. The game is mystery and I was its pre-adolescent master.

Gentle reader, I must confess that I did not cut a proverbial rug that night. However, you must remember how fragile the feminine self-esteem is at that tender age. How would it have felt to have not been the first girl asked out on the dance floor? How could I have crushed so many budding flowers? I'm certain there are a score of women who quietly, in their heart of hearts, thank me for my restraint.

Domesticated

A whiff of your sorrow
And I consider you with wolfish eyes
And pant at you under my toothy smile.
You whisper what a good boy I am.
I would devour you
If only I weren't leashed.

God in Nature

"Let all the earth fear the Lord; Let all the world stand in awe of him" -Psa. 33:8



I went canoeing on a river today and I wondered about God's influence in nature. Rashi, the 11th Century Hebrew scholar, says that in Genesis 1, there are strong implications in the Hebrew that nature was rebelling against God as it was created. This seems to indicate that as God kept imbuing nature with more and more consciousness, he expected more and more obedience or conformity until ultimately he created mankind with high expectations.

I'm not sure I agree with Rashi. I think that nature reflects God quite well. It's both terrible and beautiful, just like God. God inspires both fear and awe. God can create both an idyllic heaven and a torturous hell; it doesn't surprise me that nature can be cruel and lovely. Predators prey on the elderly and the young, not because predators are cruel, but because they want an easy meal with the smallest chance of getting hurt themselves. In the same way, the predator's dispassionate efficiency holds a certain measure of grace and beauty.

But nature also holds a great magnificence that can manifest itself on a quiet river with a bored little boy. Once the novelty wore off and the "I'm bored"s stopped, the creative imagination of a child was laid over the micro-dramas of natural life.

I saw a reflection of a facet of God in a fish that ate a water bug, a turtle that fled from the smell of man, a boy with his fingers in the water, a treeline that blocked the sun, the light rain and flood of complaints, water flowing miles and miles to a destination that cannot be perceived. And, for the first time in a long time, I saw a glimpse of a reflection of God as a father steered a canoe towards low-hanging branch while his son, hands outstretched, squealed in delight.

The Interpretation of Dreams

The ancients were the first to ascribe meaning to dreams and humanity as continued the pursuit. Whether it's a divine prophecy or a wish fulfillment fantasy or a evolutionary rehearsal of survival behavior in an unconscious mind, we still find our dreams moving.

I believe that dreams are the consolidation of emotional leftovers played out in the puppet theater of our minds. They shouldn't be interpreted literally because their very nature is the antithesis of literal interpretation - instinctual, subconscious and emotive. Punch and Judy aren't about plot, they're about character.

The best interpretations draw emotional parallels and bring the unconscious to the cognizant arena. Dreams come from an older part of our brain that was less concerned about keeping the lawn mowed and more concerned about surviving a primitive world. Though the dream images may be modern, the emotions and conflicts reflect universal human experiences from any time. Dreams remind us that despite the evolution of society, at our core we are still tribals surviving in a natural world.

This is my dream from last night:

I'm outside the city and I'm going on a journey. Looking away from the Israeli landscape back toward the edge of town, a group of people gather around a statue with a red drape covering. They're well-wishers and they give me little gifts for the road ahead. One gives me a walking stick, several give me fruit, someone gives me a river stone.

I'm gracious in the polite way people are supposed to be we receiving a gift from a stranger or an in-law. I smile and bow slightly, showing my teeth and offering my hand. My final gift is the statue. Someone pulls off the red drape. Lot's wife stands frozen in salt with her head cocked back. She's looking at all life owes her.

The crowd awes and I'm sure I smell rain coming.