Monday, July 24, 2023

Chapter 8: Kalumtum

Kalumtum, sister of Eliezer 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, servant of Abram

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.