Chapter 19: Bastet

Bastet, who is Hagar, Maidservant of Sarai

Setting: Genesis 12:14-20

Extra-biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 40:12

The woman Sarai would be beautiful even in her own land, let alone here where she is a foreigner and so all the more rare.  I suspected upon their arrival that she was indeed the wife of this man Abram, whatever he told our king about her.  The husbands of beautiful foreign women have been known to die when traveling through Egypt, and Abram presumably wished to avoid this outcome. My suspicions were confirmed soon enough, for once Sarai was taken into the harem, I was assigned to be her handmaid.  She so delighted Pharoah that he called me at once and said to me, “go, my daughter, for it is better for you to be a handmaid to Sarai even than to be the head mistress in a great house of Egypt.”  Thus he gave me as a reward to Sarai, for her grace and charm, and renamed me not Bastet but Hagar, which is to say, a reward. We were instant friends, and in her despair she told me everything not many days after her arrival.  If the men of this nation knew even one part in seven of the secrets its women carry in their bosoms, what a different world this would be!  But a secret is safe with a woman not only if she keeps it hidden but even if she tells it plainly, such is the value of a woman’s word in our gates.  Unless her husband trusts and confides in her as an equal.  I have no husband and therefore no risk of being taken seriously by any man. Sarai never treated me harshly.  In fact, she seemed determined to serve me as much as I served her.  This was a source of discomfort and confusion on my part, for it is an unholy thing to the Egyptians for a slave to be treated as a noblewoman.  The cosmos cannot tolerate such upside-down behavior.
On behalf of the beautiful Sarai, Pharoah lavished many gifts upon Abram.  In our land it is understood that once the bride price has been sufficiently paid, the virgin’s guardian will throw as great a feast as a reasonable portion of the dowry will allow, and the marriage will then be properly consummated. I have never seen so many animals in my life as passed from the hand of Pharaoh to Abram.  But what are sheep and oxen and donkeys to Senusret?  He is a man of crops and monuments, not of flocks and herds.  For him, livestock are to be spent in the acquiring of virgin wombs and military allies, and to those ends they are liberally spent. Why El Elyon, the god of Abram and his household, had closed the womb of Sarai she did not know, for she was aware of no great iniquities in herself that might have brought this punishment.  I sought to reassure her that El has no jurisdiction in the land of Montu-Ra and our god-king Senusret.  For whatever prudish god it was that had closed the womb of a woman so beautiful, the gods of Egypt would surely bestow fertility on such a princess.

Yet Sarai clung to the hope that her Abram had not really abandoned her, and that her El Elyon would protect her from harm.  As time went on, there were indications that she was correct in both respects.  Abram tarried long and yet threw no marriage feast, perhaps an indication that he was having second thoughts about abandoning his wife?  Even more disturbingly, from the time that Sarai was brought into the harem and her preparations for the sacred union were begun, there was a remarkable drop in the fertility of the women of Egypt. Knowing as I did that Sarai was barren, it seemed that she had brought this curse with her and spread it like a plague to the women of Egypt.  And yet, how could it be that a curse from El should alight in a land not his?  The frogs of the Nile suffered no infertility; they multiplied so greatly that they filled our land with their rotting corpses.  What was transpiring between El and Heqet?  What did our goddess of fertility mean by blessing her frogs but not our women?  And how could any Chaldean nomad, even if he be wealthy as Abram, cause such a spiritual disturbance in the delta? When Abram tarried long yet threw no marriage feast, Pharaoh became impatient and threw a feast of his own.  Sarai was in dread of what might follow.  One day she would insist that El would not let any man touch her, the next day she was weeping again at the reality of her situation and the marriage which must soon take place. Yet Pharaoh suffered a dream that brought the feast to a sudden halt.  I am told that in his dream, as he lay on his bed at night, Heqet approached him to seduce him.  Yet when he rose from his bed, waking or dreaming he did not know, she struck him so that he fell and was unable to rise.  In consulting with the magicians, Omari and Jabari, it was revealed to him for a certainty that Sarai was Abram’s wife, and that his sin in taking her for himself was the reason why our wombs had been closed.  No woman, no matter how beautiful, is worth trading the fertility of our mother Egypt, and so Senusret wasted no time in expelling Abram and his household, Sarai and her lavish dowry included, from the land.

Chapter 18: Sarai

Sarai, Wife of Abram

Setting: Genesis 12:11-13

Each day our provisions grew lighter until we were certainly not drinking enough water.  The animals became gaunt, the slaves became gaunt, the men became gaunt, and eventually even the women and children among us must suffer thirst.

We passed between Gerar and Beersheba, knowing that surely their wells and wadis must be as dry as bone, and continued on our way to Egypt.

We had come to know the Egyptians in Shechem, who told us many things of their homeland and their Pharaoh.  They told us of Pharaoh's harem, composed of women from every corner of the world, and of his habit of lavishing extravagant gifts upon the families of beautiful young maidens from distant lands, in exchange for their hand in marriage.

What woman is there who is not pleased to think of herself as exceedingly beautiful?  If such a woman exists I think it is because she esteems herself unbeautiful and spurns the vanity of outward appearance in spite. 

We delight to be praised as fair.  Those who would pity me for my “abandonment” by my husband into the harem of Pharaoh should ask themselves in earnest if they would not blush with secret joy to have a husband who esteemed them so beautiful that he feared for his life lest another man kill him to steal such a prize.  Indeed, Abram’s fears were genuine, for his estimation of my beauty knew no rational bounds.  And who am I to say if these fears were valid?  If I say yes, I am being prideful.  If I say no, I am disagreeing with my master.

But know this much, he is a man of sweeping, mountainous, monumental faith, and this above all is why I did not pity myself nor consider myself abandoned by his suggestion that I be introduced only as his sister.

It was in love that my husband esteemed my beauty of great value, and it was by faith that he knew what great riches this arrangement would transfer from a clan of Senusret to the clan of Abram.  But most importantly of all - for you must know that he is a man who sees the image of God even in woman - by faith my master knew that no harm would come to me, and that El would get the glory. 

The man who knows that God owns all things cannot ‘abandon’ anything, for to him all things are always entrusted to God’s care.  Such a man knows that nothing which is dedicated to Adonai is ever truly lost, for He keeps it and sustains it always.  And so Abram allowed me to be taken into Pharaoh’s household not because he did not care if I belonged to another man, but because he knew that I never would.  I am called “my princess” not because of Abram’s jealousy, but because of his confidence.  Not because he is possessive, but because the world and all its glory is indeed His inasmuch as the cosmos is God’s gift to mankind, and I in his eyes the crowning jewel.

I confess, I was not always as confident as my husband in this regard.  I feared lest some attendant of Pharaoh should secretly have his way with me, or lest Pharaoh himself might find the time and energy necessary to consummate the marriage and I be forced to lie with the Egyptian.  He is a man of demonic energy and I feared lest my body ever come into contact with his.

But God protected me.

Chapter 17: Mamre

Mamre, of Hebron

Setting: Genesis 12:9-10

To live in proximity to Salem is to know and love the man Melchizedek.  He has often visited us in Hebron.  He has a fondness for our people and our beautiful oak trees, among which he has often spent a day in prayer.  What kind of a king spends the day in prayer? Melchizedek had told us that a man of great importance, humble and kind and exceedingly hospitable, would soon pass by our land.  This man, Abram, is to be the patriarch of a great people.  He is a loyal follower of El Elyon, as are we, my brothers and I.  For to know Melchizedek is to know the power and the wonder of El. As Melchizedek had predicted, the man Abram came through the land with great flocks and herds and with many people.  His wife was exceedingly beautiful, and I am sure his children would have been also, but he had none.  As if El wanted to make sure Abram stayed humble in the midst of such riches. Our bond with Abram was almost instantly forged.  His faith in El is a powerful force, and what a joy it was to meet a brother in that faith.  It was our desire to form a pact with this man, that together we might stand against the heathen nations around us and carve out a beautiful land for Adonai.  Abram extended to us the right hand of fellowship, and we ate bread and drank wine together.  But we knew that he must surely continue south to Egypt, for the land was suffering a great famine and there was no way that his animals would survive without more water. We prayed that we would see this man again.  Friendship is surely one of the greatest gifts of this short life.

Chapter 16: Melchizedek

Melchizedek, priest of El Elyon

Setting: Genesis 12:9-10 Extra-Biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 39:10
There was a king who, while traversing from place to place, lost a pearl from the crown of his head.  The king halted and had his retinue halt.  When a passer-by asked, “What is going on here with the king and his entire retinue?” they were told, “A pearl has fallen from the king’s head.”  What did the king do? He heaped the soil in a number of piles, brought sieves, and sifted the first pile, but did not find the pearl… He did the same with the second, third, and so on, until when he sifted the tenth pile, he found it. Then the passersby said, “The king has finally found his precious pearl.” There were ten generations from Noach to Abram.  Through each one God sifted until finally he found his pearl. I saw the man and his caravan from a distance as they passed by on their way to Egypt.  They did not stop in Salem, for they surely knew that we were in as great a need as they, as the drought is prolonged.  But God has shown me that I will see the face of Abram one day.  El has a way of sending his chosen ones to Egypt for a time, and then calling them out again into the land of promise.

Chapter 15: Rim-Sin

Rim-Sin, King of Luz

Setting: Genesis 12:8

Abram and his people camped not far outside of our city.  He spoke peaceably to us and inquired of our religion.  He examined our bulls and goats and we traded in knowledge of animal husbandry.  Abram is a man with much livestock, and like myself, he does not hesitate to sacrifice the best of his flocks to the gods. Or rather, to the god, in Abram’s case, for he worships El and El alone.  Why the man should forsake Baal and Ashera I could not grasp.  He denied not their power in the world but insisted that El’s authority is over all, and that appeasing El alone accomplishes what is necessary. We do have a quite ancient monument to El, but Abram undertook the project of building a separate altar, to the east of our city, not far from the slopes of Ebal, where El could be worshiped in the solitude of the desert.

Abram came in a stranger but he quickly became a friend.  I had hoped that he would stay here and combine forces with us as we bear up against the ever-encroaching Jebusites of the south.  Alas, when he arrived the land was already in drought, and the drought was prolonged as he camped by Ebal until it was certain that there was not sufficient grass nor water to keep his flocks healthy. We dined together, and we worshiped El together.  Then I embraced the man, and he went south, among the very Jebusites I detest.  Nonetheless, I have never known a better man.  It seemed as though he cared more about the least person in Luz then he did about himself.  Somehow, though he was the pilgrim, he managed to be the overly hospitable party in the relationship, despite our best efforts. I still visit his alter to El at times.  It is a quiet place to sit and think, or to pray and to dream. As I watched him leave, at the head of his household, headed south to find grass and water, I knew that here was a patriarch of Canaan.

Chapter 14: Abram

Abram, servant of El Elyon

Setting: Genesis 12:6-7

Why does Adonai speak to me?  Why?!  Why has He called Abram, of all people, out into the desert to follow Him?  I am no Nephel, no Rapha, no Anank, no Gibbor Chayil.  I am no Utnapishtim, no Ur-Nammu, no Aplahanda or Senusret or Khu-Sobek.  I am no Nimrod.  What does He see in me, that I should become a partner of God?  Nay, not a partner of God, a partner of El Elyon, the God of gods? A man not eighty years old, yet already showing signs of age, with a barren wife and a handful of people, wandering in the desert.  This is who He has chosen? There were those in Harranu that asked me how I could leave my country, my kindred, and my father’s house in search of an unknown land.  But all that I forsook I forsook not in disgust or even in charity but rather in sacrifice.  Do we not preach day in and day out of the virtues of sacrifice?  Is it not axiomatic that when we give something up to the gods, they are pleased and respond in mercy?  I have gained the reputation of a man of great religiosity.  But I am merely acting in accord with the laws of the gods, who are far stronger than I.  What other choice do I have?  Could I possibly succeed by withholding the very sacrifice that Adonai demands?  Of course I must lay it on the altar, and God in His goodness will use it for good. But there is something about El Elyon that disturbs me.  It bewilders my religious senses.  This God comes to me before I have even made the sacrifice, with promises of blessing.  What kind of God comes not to the altar you have made and smiles upon you, but comes and smiles upon you when as yet you have built no altar? Shamefully I admit that I had as yet built no altar to Adonai, nor led the people in calling on His name, when He appeared to me at the foot of Gerizim.  I had gone out at evening to the field to meditate, and as the sun sank below the horizon, an unnatural darkness fell across the land.  So black was this darkness that even the shadows fled from it and I was in wild terror at what must follow. Then all was warm and calm and Adonai appeared to me.  Why did He appear to me?  And why did He say to me what He did?  In Harranu, El had declared that He would make a great nation out of my household, and bless me, and make my name great, and that he would bless them that bless me and curse those that curse me.  What divine prodigality!   But here, at Shechem, He has said that unto my seed He will give this land. Unto my seed?  What can this mean?  Am I to take another wife?  While it is not uncommon for a man of my standing to take along three or four wives, I do not believe that Adonai intends this.  I have loved My Princess with a purity that would be marred by the involvement of other wives.  When I contemplate it my mind is immediately turned back from the notion.  Surely, Lot is to be my heir, and my seed is to be named through him. And what an immense honor, though the people be descended from Harran as much as from myself, to be named as the father of a great nation!  It is humbling to look up at Gerizim, and across the plain to Ebal, and to know that this land will belong to my children.  Was my mother right in naming me Abram after all? In my shame at not having built one sooner, I oversaw the construction of a stone altar there, where Adonai appeared to me and declared this promise concerning my seed. I do not deserve such kindness from God.  I do not understand El Elyon.

Chapter 13: Otiartes

Otiartes, herdsman of Lot's cattle

Setting: Genesis 12:6-7

The free men among us had, for the most part, not spent many days outside of a city before.  Over the long journey their skin had darkened and, I think, their spirits lifted with the freedom and the harsh beauty of the wilderness. I have always been a man of the land and I have never preferred a palace to a bed beneath the stars.  In fact, I have always preferred the company of animals to men. But I will say that the town of Laish inspired in me a sense that city life can have its own freedom and wonder. Ur, Babylon, Mari, Damascus, these are places of great wealth and art, but Laish is a place of rustic charm, and harmony between god and man.  The city is idyllic.  Nestled between mountains, the cool, clear streams are fed by melting snow.  The land is fertile.  The people are cheerful, and they live at peace with one another.  My master Lot was delighted by the settlement and inquired of Abram whether this might not in fact be the land of El Elyon.  Abram said that all the earth is the land of El Elyon, but the land to which we were called was not here.  We could sense that Lot wanted to protest, but as Abram’s heir, he is more or less constrained to follow Abram or else to bid his inheritance farewell.  And a man has a better chance of reasoning with a wild ass than with Abram when he has instructions from El Elyon. So we left the pristine mountains of Laish, and came very soon to Hazor, a place of impressive military might.  Here were fighting men, with thick leather armor and bronze shields, in no small number.  I do not know what Abram said to them to placate them, but they granted us free passage without quarrel. While the cities I have known in Chaldea have each had their own unique character, the people of the various settlements have been more or less the same.  Not so here in Canaan.  Ammonites, Moabites, Hittites, Phoenicians, even Egyptians and Chaldeans live in close proximity with one another.  And their gods are no less diverse: Baal, Asherah, El, Marduk, Utu-Shammash, Enlil, Chemosh, Dagon, and Milcom to name a few.  To be sure, it is a place where a man can choose what he wants to be.  My master Lot senses this with great excitement, though he follows in the footsteps of his uncle Abram with annoyance that his inheritance shackles him to the man. All the way from Harran to Hazor, we had moved slowly but more or less steadily.  But then we came to Shechem, and here Abram rested us for some weeks.  The city itself, while inhabited by various nationalities, was governed by the Egyptians to whom it paid heavy tribute.  A nobleman of Egypt named Khu-Sobek had captured the city in the name of Senusret, Egypt's king. We did not dwell within the city, though we did have frequent commerce with it.  To reach our camp, one would walk a few minutes to the south along the road, called “the Way of the Fathers”, and depart from the road at the great Oak of Moreh.   From there one would turn toward the steep northern slope of Mount Gerizim, and proceed for just a few minutes until arriving at our camp, near the spring of water that flows near the foot of the mountain. Shechem is no Laish, but the area does give the feeling that it is a good place to settle.  And for a time, it seemed that this might be what Abram would do.  By the Oak of Moreh there was an altar to Baal and a humble tent of prostitution for Asherah.  Abram added to the religious culture of the area by building an altar to Adonai at the foot of Gerizim, within sight of the others.  There he would go as the sun was setting and offer burnt offerings and call upon the name of Adonai.

Chapter 12: Eliezer

Eliezer of Damascius, servant of Abram

Setting: Genesis 12:1-5

Who am I?  From the time I was a boy they have called me “Eliezer of Damascus,” though until now I had never set foot in this city. I am named for El, yet I have spent my life worshiping Nana and Enki. I have spent my life in walled cities, yet have I ever felt more alive than during these days and nights under the sun and the stars of the untamed wilderness? Kalumtum could not believe her ears when I told her that I would be continuing on with the house of Abram as they journeyed further south and west.  He had readily granted Kalumtum and Urhammu their freedom, and it was understood that he would grant the same to me.  If Kalumtum could not believe her ears, I could hardly even believe my own ears as I heard myself speak. “My sister, I am Eliezer of Damascus, son of Abdhulraman.  I am a Canaanite, and a worshiper of El Elyon.  The devoted follower of Abram.”

Chapter 11: Sarai

Sarai, Wife of Abram

Setting: Genesis 12:1-5 Extra-Biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 39:1
Commentary from Vilna edition of Midrash Rabbah Bereishit Rabbah 39:2

One evening Abram and I were walking along the Julab in the evening.  We spoke of life in Ur and life in Haran; of friends and acquaintances.  As the sun touched the horizon and began to set below it, we climbed up onto a large rock and sat in silence.   I could see that Abram's gaze was fixated upon the sunset, glowing red at the close of day.  I judged it best to remain quiet in the peacefulness of the moment. Abram looked at me and I saw that tears were forming in his eyes.  He looked back to the setting sun and said aloud “El, your birah is still burning.  Will men not say that you have abandoned us?” He rose, and looking back at me he said “Go home my princess, there is a friend I must meet,” and he walked off into the desert as darkness fell across the land.  I sat there on the rock for a while longer, until the gods began to appear one by one in the sky, and then I walked home. Abram later told me that on that night Adonai, who is El Elyon, came to him with the command to leave the house of Terah and the land between the rivers, and continue journeying west, to a place that Adonai would show him. Who could dream of leaving the great household of Terah, much less when the old man was still living?  And who would honestly choose to sojourn in the desert when well established in a successful town?  Abram.  He is a man of higher ideals than anyone I know, and these ideals lead him to do what no one else would do. Not many days later we set out; a company of nearly one hundred persons, mostly slaves, cheif among them being the families of Eliezer and Urhammu, to whom Kalumtum was married.  Lot was with us also, and he walked at Abram’s side.  Of course, childless as we are, our house will pass on to Lot when Abram dies.  What for Abram is an act of great faith, to leave his father’s house and sojourn in the wilderness, requires of Lot an act of desperation, to follow his inheritance into that desert if he ever hopes to receive it. There was laughing and there was crying as we departed from Haran.  And while it was clear that Terah and Amathlai would live and die in the service of Nanna, it was also clear that they essentially approved of Abram’s journey to the land of El Elyon. Amathlai stood at Terah’s side and declared a blessing on her son: “Abram.  To what shall I compare you?  To a flask of balsam-tree juice, closed with a tight lid, placed in a corner so that its fragrance is not emitted.  But when it is moved, its fragrance is emitted.  My son, move yourself from place to place and your name will become great in the world.” At times it seems there is no more effective way to broaden the mind of a parent than for their child to stubbornly persist in what they once considered heretical.  It is hard to accept change, but I imagine it is often even harder to condemn one’s child. We set out at a leisurely pace, for Abram was mindful of the littlest and the eldest among us.  At Charchemish, where the hills begin to rise above the flatlands, we gathered supplies and conversed with the locals.  We even dined with king Aplahanda, who had heard convoluted stories of Abram’s skirmish with Nimrod, and was pleased to meet the living legend who had defied Nusku’s fire. Aplahanda was particularly devoted to Marduk.  Abram suggested frankly that Marduk was the son of Enki, and that a son is not greater than his father, whereas in truth El is antecedent to both.  At this Aplahanda was all too ready to send us on our way south along the trade routes to Damascus and beyond. Next we came to Halba, with its temple to the storm god Hadad.  The inhabitants were mostly Amorites, and were peaceable to us. Not far outside of Halba lie Ebla, which we found to be a hectic city of various temples and palaces, dedicated mostly to semitic gods, though some to Mesopotamian gods as well.  The city was so academic and so conversational in nature that in our short time there Abram was interviewed by a number of leading scribes, who documented his news from the East on clay tablets for their archives.  I am not sure if even in Mari they have such a carefully composed library. From there we continued south to Hamath.  We would have avoided the city altogether, but the Hittite scouts of that region intercepted us on the road and insisted that we turn aside for questioning.  They iterrogated us roughly about our business, but when they were convinced that our reasons for travel were religious, they seemed to lose interest and allowed us to pass on, on the condition that by all means we avoid settling on land claimed by the Hittites. Abram had told me from the start of our journey that Adonai would be the one to direct our steps.  I asked Abram more than once as the days passed whether there had been a new word from Adonai about where we were to settle.  Abram told me that we must go to the land of Canaan, and beyond that he knew nothing. After leaving Hamath we spent several days crossing the desert until finally we came to Damascus.  I had never seen Eliezer dance with joy as he danced when we saw the Canaanite city.  I confess, I danced with Kalumtum also, clasping her hands in mine, for we were finally coming home, to the land to which El had called us.

Chapter 10: Lot

Lot, son of Haran

Setting: Genesis 12:1-5 Extra-Biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 39:7

Abram has always been a brother and a friend.  My father was always disciplining both of us for getting into the same mischief, along with Eliezer, who my father also treated more or less as his own son.  And when my father died, it was Abram who assumed the role of father to me. While I did not voice my curiosity about the Annunaki the way Abram did, I confess that I have often shared many of his sentiments.  The old religions are powerful, but religion, like the gods themselves, must surely grow and change with time. When many seasons had passed in Haran, Abram spoke with Terah, urging him to continue Westward, to the land of El Elyon, possessor of heaven and earth.  Terah would hear no more talk of El Elyon, nor would he take one more step past Harranu, the burial place of his son.  For Terah, life ended the day that Haran was cast into the flames, and so it was fitting that he should spend the rest of his days planted in a place called ‘Haran.’  Furthermore, what man can resist the religious inclinations of his wife, and who is more devoted to Nanna than Amathlai? It was Amathlai, in fact, who appeared with Terah in the midst of the household one morning and declared a blessing on Abram and Iscah, and their many possessions, and the many people they had acquired in Haran.  When she revealed that Abram would be leaving Haran to journey west, to the land of El, the house of Terah were not surprised, but they were appalled.  Should a man leave his father’s house when his father is still alive?  Yet Amathlai declared that she had been visited in a dream, and that the gods had pardoned Abram from the obligations of filial piety, for the sake of a calling that is higher still. What calling could be higher than filial piety?  Yet when Abram reassured me later that there was no disrespect between the father and the son, I was inclined to believe him. As Abram prepared to depart, it was mine to decide whether to journey with him westward or to stay here, in the world of Nanna.  I confess, it was the land of El, more so than El Himself, that seemed to call to me.  They say it is a land flowing with milk and honey.  I hoped to find there an opportunity to increase my herds and to make a name for myself. Naturally, Eliezer, whose very name invokes the assistance of El, was keen for this opportunity to move closer to his homeland and to the god of his fathers.  He spoke of a land that was well-watered everywhere, like the very garden of God.  I was soon convinced that El and His land were the way of the future.

Chapter 9: Abdhulraman

Abdhulraman of Damascus

Setting: Genesis 11:31-32

As a boy on the streets of Damascus, I did not dream that I would one day find myself in the service of one of the wealthiest families in the most prosperous city on earth.  And when we lived in splendor in Ur, I did not dream that we would fall from our golden throne into the desert.

Then again, I have never been much of a dreamer.  Life for me has been so unpredictable that I have learned not to bother with prognosticating.  I have known, even before these past few years, that life can change in an instant for good or for evil.

We left Ur and headed north, following the route that I had taken from Damascus, but this time in reverse.  It felt good to move toward home. 

We followed the Euphrates for a long time.  We camped outside of Babylon for several months, and had I not been in Terah’s inner circle, I would have assumed, as many did, that we were going to settle there for good.  Terah was like that.  He knew how to take his time.  How to loiter outside of Babylon for no apparent reason.

Eventually we continued on, and encamped outside of Mari.  Yet again we continued on, until finally we reached the flatlands of Paddan Aram.  We crossed those plains until we reached Harannu, a city so named because it is situated more or less at the crossroads of the earth, at a place where caravans from the four winds meet as they go on their ways.

I was walking with Terah at the front of the camp as the city began to come into view.  He asked me what was the name of this city, and when I told him I saw tears forming in his eyes. 

He stopped in his tracks and called to Amathlai who joined him at his side.  He pointed to the city, and though he said nothing, his spirit seemed to say to her, “prophecy.”

“Harannu.” she said loudly, with clarity in her eyes, “friend of man and friend of god.  Resting place for wanderers.  Here my son will rest in peace.  You shall not be called Harranu, but Haran.”

As she turned to walk away, she spoke to Terah in a matter-of-fact fashion, “we will live and die here.  You will build a temple to Nanna in Haran’s honor, and bury his bones in its foundation.”

Amathlai’s words came to pass, and the temple of Haran became a leading center for the worship of Nanna, with Amathlai the chief priestess and Terah the chief elder of the town.

But not before my son, along with Lot and the household of Abram, went traipsing off into the wilderness again, headed west on the trade route which soon turns south from Charchemish and heads for Damascus.  How could I tell Eliezer not to go?  Though he has never seen the place, his blood is Damascan, and as he goes home a part of me goes with him.

Lot, son of Haran

In truth I long to return to Damascus as well.  To walk the banks of Abana and Pharpar.  But how can I leave the house of Terah?  And I fear that Damascus could never live up to the memories of Abdhulraman, the wide-eyed boy.

Chapter 8: Kalumtum

Kalumtum, daughter of Abdhulraman of Damascus

Setting: Genesis 11:29-30
Extra-biblical Sources: Sanhedrin 69b:13

Since we were very young my brother Eliezer and I have been best of friends with the children of Haran.  Eliezer and Lot would hunt together.  First chickens, when they were quite little, then badgers, then boars, and finally lions when they had come of age.  Iscah, Milcah, and I would walk together along the banks of the Euphrates, singing together and scavenging for leeks and medicines.

Eliezer of Damascus

Of course, Iscah was much older than Milcah and I.  On the night of the weddings we were not yet thirty years old and Iscah was nearing sixty.  But in truth Iscah has always seemed younger than we, for her spirit is young and her face and her form are beautiful.  Iscah has one of those faces from which it is impossible to  guess the possessor’s age.  She could be twenty or she could be one hundred, for her eyes are young and bright and she does not show the common signs of age, and yet there is a wisdom and a maturity in her demeanor that would suggest she has lived a long, long time.

As we walked along the Euphrates as young women, the three of us would dream of what it would be like when we were married, and I suppose Iscah did not have the heart to tell us that she was not likely to ever be married.  Either that, or she honestly believed that she would marry some day, for even when we grew up and heard the older women speaking of Iscah’s condition, it was always assumed in conversation among us three girls that Iscah would indeed be wed.

Milcah came to me when she noticed that the camp was preparing for a wedding, and we discussed whether it was likely to be for her or I.  I must admit, it did not honestly cross our minds to think that Iscah might be involved.

Iscah’s name is fitting, as is invariably the case with names delivered by the Annunaki and uttered in prophetic ecstasy by mothers in the throes of labor.  I say hers is a fitting name, for the effect that her appearance has on men is unmistakable.  In the course of daily life, there is a measure of decorum that prevents men from gawking, but when we are in a new place, or just passing through on a journey, or on the outskirts of town where pilgrims are camping, it is not uncommon to see the gaze of a man transfixed upon Iscah as if in a trance of some kind.  Behold!  The very image of beauty.

How many inquiries have been made by unknowing young men, who could see Iscah’s beauty but were as yet unaware of her condition?  Terah, I suppose, or Amathlai perhaps, found some tactful way to inform the young suitor and no more was said on the matter.  It is a testament to their integrity that they did not wed the girl off to the first unsuspecting oaf to be enamored by her figure!

I pray by the gods of Damascus, Ur, Babylon, and everywhere in between that with Abram, the only person in Terah’s household stranger than Iscah herself, she will find happiness.

I must admit, the words which Abram spoke to Iscah at their wedding were thrilling words even for me, as a bystander.  Oh, that someone would speak such words to me.  He stood in the dark night, his feet soaked with blood, and in response to Terah’s admonition that he love and protect Iscah, he turned not to Terah but to Iscah and declared:

Iscah,

Even when we put you at the back of the caravan, everyone sees you first.

The most opaque veil conceals not your radiant beauty.

They gaze upon you.

The questions come quickly, with scarcely an appropriate attempt at decorum,

Yet their interest quickly dissipates like mist in the noonday sun.

Wanted by so many but ultimately claimed by no one,

You are an orphan with many suitors and no redeemer.

But there is a kinsmen-redeemer.

One who will not simply gaze from a distance.

One who instead declares: “mine.”

Your name shall not be Iscah, but Sarai,

For I have not only beheld you, I have made you my princess.

Sarai, Wife of Abram

As stupid as it was for Abram to marry Iscah, there was something magical in the idea that he actually loved her with all of his heart.

I lay on my bed that night and I felt happy for Iscah, for I knew that Abram would be gentle and kind to her not only this night but also all of their days.

Chapter 7: Milcah

Milcah, daughter of Haran

Setting: Genesis 11:29-30

Extra-biblical Sources: Sanhedrin 69b:13

We followed the great Euprhates river, moving slowly on account of the livestock and the children; resting when possible in the cool shade cast by embankments.  We reached Uruk on the second day.  Uruk; our great sister city and the cradle of civilization.

Surely we might have settled at Uruk, even if outside the walls until a place was found for us within.  We have friends there, and Shulgi son of Ur-Nammu would surely have done Terah a favor and set aside some land for our family there.

At first it seemed that we would indeed make a new life in Uruk, for we loitered there not a few days.  Iscah and I spent our time looking after the slave children, scavenging for fire wood, and doing what we could to make satisfying meals from the provisions we had in the camp.  We ate a lot of bread with curds and leeks.  We might have had honey on occasion, but it seemed inappropriate to indulge in sweets while our dead father ate dirt.

His body was with us, for there is nothing more important for the dead than their burial, and we feared lest the followers of Nimrod should desecrate his tomb if he were buried close to Ur.  The plan was to bury him somewhere in the desert where he could rest in peace.  I only know this because I overheard Terah discussing the manner with Nahor.  It is not as if the men tell us anything.

It is not as if they tell us even of our own marriages, for I also overheard them discussing how to properly conduct a wedding in the camp, and I suspected that the wedding was either for myself, in need of a redeemer, or for the slave girl Kalumtum, daugher of Abdhulraman.  The way of women was upon her, and it is customary to marry slaves as soon as nature signals their fertility.

Kalumtum, daughter of Abdhulraman of Damascus

Alas, whether slavewoman or freewoman, it is not customary for any man to willingly take on marriage with one who does not experience the way of women.  And so I did not suspect that Terah and Haran spoke of a wedding for Iscah.

After a few days of encampment across the river, outside of Uruk, Terah and his servants visited the city to trade for necessary supplies that were neglected as we left Ur in haste.  The morning after they returned, it was clear that a wedding celebration was being prepared.  It was that morning that I was taken by the slave women outside of camp, that I might be prepared to meet my groom.

That evening, as Utu set and darkness fell across the land, I was brought back into the camp.  I was veiled, with costly ornaments on my wrists and ankles and neck, and what ointment and perfumes were available here in our exile had been liberally applied.

To my shock I saw that Iscah, too, had been prepared for marriage and was joining me beside Terah in the middle of the assembly.

Two trenches had been dug in the middle of camp, each roughly one cubit wide and each several cubits long.  On both side of the trenches were halves of heifers, goats, rams, and pigeons; their bodies cut in two and laid so that their blood drained from their severed bodies into the trenches.

Terah stood between these blood paths, with myself on his left and Iscah on his right.

In the darkening dusk the blood appeared a purplish black, and the flames of nearby torches danced upon it in red and yellow.  Terah called forth Nahor, who walked the blood path so that his bare feet and his white robes were splattered with the blood.  I confess that in my pity for Iscah, in which I am well-rehearsed, I looked at the blood and thought not just of these animals but of the blood that I myself produce and that Iscah does not.  I thought also of the blood that must be shed that night, as a demonstration of our purity, and I wondered if this standard applied to Iscah or how it might go for her.

As Nahor reached us, Terah declared: “Nahor, son of Terah, if you do not faithfully love, protect, and support this woman Milcah all the days of your life, may you be torn to pieces like these animals.  If you should harm her, you shall in turn be harmed.  If you should take another wife, you must not decrease her portion, or we shall require it from your hands.  Truly.  Truly.”

Nahor responded: “Be it as you have said.  If I do not love, protect, and support this woman Milcah all the days of my life, may I be as these animals.  May the Annunaki bless our union, and may Inanna grant that Milcah’s womb produce many children.  Truly.  Truly.”

The household of Terah cheered and I was led away by the women to the wedding chamber.  As we left the assembly I glanced back to see that Abram was walking the blood path toward Iscah.