Chapter 34: Adith

Adith, Lot's Wife

Setting: Genesis 13:13

I have spoken before about my husband’s high view of hospitality.  When we were sojourners, this often resulted in late nights under the stars, and the drinking of no small quantities of wine and beer.

When Lot’s drinking was contained within the joviality of feast days and the comradery of friendship, it was a pleasant thing and seemed harmless if not wholesome.  But in Sodom, the celebrations ceased and the houses of all were shut at night, and Lot drank alone.  

After Paltith was killed it got much worse.  He began to praise wine as that which connects us to one another and to nature and to the gods, and in memory of his daughter, he drank into the night.  It was as though he must exalt hospitality, and with it wine, as a virtue so great that to lose one’s child in its name became a worthy sacrifice, and drunkenness a worthy memorial.  His love for the world and its people turned inward, till it seemed he had love only for the wine.

So it was that one evening Maleb, Qetanah, and myself returned from the market and found Lot lying naked on his couch.  Such things should not be done, even in Sodom, as lying naked before one’s daughters.  I ran to my room and wept, leaving him there in his shame, and Maleb and Qetanah, it seems, took a blanket and walked backwards, their eyes facing away from him, and laid it across him till he came to his senses and remembered how to blush. 

Both were of an age that is fitting for marriage, and Lot was keen to marry them off to successful young men of the city.  The decision of who they should wed was largely up to me, so long as they were indeed successful, with reasonably impressive income.

Maleb was wed to Warad, a tanner who seemed to enjoy wine almost as much as Lot; Qetanah was wed to Niqmaddu, a smith of some reputation in the town, whose blades were known for their use in a certain unspeakable ritual that I will not repeat at this time.  Niqmaddu would hardly touch wine or beer unless no water were available, but he did have a fondness for some plant that originated in Egypt, the chewing of which produced the same effects as alcohol as far as I could tell.

The two young men married our daughters, but it was to Lot that they were primarily joined, for it was the bond between these three men that grew stronger as the seasons passed by.  They spent their nights doing all kinds of things that should not be done. But at least Lot seemed jovial again, in a social sort of way, rather than in the private religion of his drinking closet, and for this I was grateful; I have found that a man and his god alone can develop quite a toxic love affair.  Better to keep one’s religion communal rather than private.

Chapter 33: Abram

Abram, servant of El Elyon

Setting: Genesis 14:17-15:21

Extra-biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 43:6

Extra-biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 43:7

Berah, king of Sodom, rode out on a camel to meet us as we returned from the slaughter of Chedorlaomer and of the kings that were with him.  We were a large caravan indeed, consisting of our thousand or so fighting men, and twice as many others who we had rescued, along with their wives and their children and much of their livestock that Chedorlaomer had thought to steal as well.

We met with Berah in the valley of Shaveh, in the place that they call the King’s Dale.
There Melchizedek, king of Salem met us as well, so that the most loathsome and the most commendable of all kings both greeted us on our return to the land of Canaan.

Melchizedek prophesied, and tears filled my eyes, for I was reminded of the prophecies of my mother in the days of my youth.  Yet in Melchizedek there is a peace and a joy that even Amathlai could not match.  That this man prophecies in the service of El Elyon may the world be forever grateful.

Melchizedek brought forth bread and wine, which he blessed in the name of El Elyon, that we might partake of it together.  And he blessed me and said “Blessed be Abram of El Elyon, possessor of heaven and earth, and blessed be El Elyon, Who has delivered your enemies into your hand.”

I bowed myself low, humbled beyond measure by the kindness of this great man, and I called forth Eliezer that we might aportion to Melchizedek a tenth part of the spoils of war.

As we prepared the rest of the spoils to be given back to Berah, the Sodomite king stepped forward and gestured to the many spoils in our midst, saying “give me the persons, and take the goods for yourself.”

He is a wicked man, and he would have me forever in his debt.  He would like to have it said far and wide that it was he who sponsored Abram in the war of the kings.  That Abram risked his life so that he might become rich at Berah’s generosity.

I lifted my hand unto Elohim in his presence, and declared for all to hear, “I have lifted up my hand to Adonai, who is El Elyon, the possessor of heaven and earth, that I will not take one thread of clothing, or the strap of one sandal, or anything that is yours, lest you should say ‘I have made Abram rich.’  I ask only for the food which the young men have eaten, and the portion of the men who went with me, Enau, Eshcol, and Mamre, let them take their portion.”

I know not what Berah thought of my response, for he simply smiled and said “very well, my son,” and the feast of Melchizedek and Berah and Abram continued late into the night.

As the stars began to disappear, but before the sun appeared on the horizon, I departed from the feast to walk in the desert with God.  I was troubled, for I knew in my heart that Lot would return to Sodom, leaving me still childless, and I knew also in my heart that Eliezer, while as much a son to me as any man, was not my flesh and blood and did not deserve the birthright of the house of Abram.

Why would God call me to be the father of a great people, only to deny me a child who is truly of my loins?

There in the desert, a very strange thing happened.  I am certain the sun must have fled backwards into the underworld, for pink hues disappeared from the horizon and it was black again, and the stars which had all but faded reappeared in full shining glory.

Then Adonai came to me in a vision, and said to me “Fear not, Abram, I am your shield, and your exceedingly great reward.”

They say I am a great and pious man, righteous and holy for Elohim.  And let God be true and every man a liar.  But in truth as my God spoke these words to me I felt that they were somehow hollow.  “I am your shield.”  “I am your great reward.”  Well and good, Lord, but I have no son to inherit my name.  He who would inherit my possessions is known by the name of Damascus.

There is no hiding anything from the Most High, and so I spoke with Him plainly.  “Elohim Adonai, what would you give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house is this ‘Eliezer or Damascus’?”

He answered me nothing, and I knew that this was an invitation to simply trust and obey, yet it seemed as though I could not.  The darkness that wrapped around me was like a blanket, and it comforted me, that I should be here in this dark place, face to face with Adonai, and able to question Him.  But now, as He did not answer, the sky began to lighten again and the stars began to fade and I became at once angry and afraid, and I wept and fiercely I said to my God,

“Look!  You have given me no seed, and see, one born in my household is to be my heir!”

At once it grew dark again, even darker than before, a darkness that could be felt. A darkness so black that the stars that pierced it seemed almost blinding.  What a wonder to behold!  And the word of Adonai came to me.

“This shall not be your heir; but he that shall come forth out of your own loins shall be your heir.”

And He caught me up to the top of Hermon, where the stars shone even brighter due to their closer proximity, and He commanded me, “Look now toward heaven, and count the stars, if you are able to number them.”  And what could I do, but to begin the hopeless task of counting all of the stars?

And he said to me, “I am Adonai, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to inherit it.”

“Elohim Adonai,” I asked, “how can I know that I will indeed inherit it?”

And he said to me, “Take a heifer, three years old, and a she goat three years old, and a ram three years old, and a turtledove and a pigeon.”  And I arose to return to the feasting grounds that I might collect these animals, but behold, they came out to me instead.  So I took these and I severed their bodies in two, for it was clear that Adonai was to have me walk a blood path.  If I am bound by a blood covenant to my wife, and rightfully slain should I ever mistreat her, so now it seemed I must be bound by a blood covenant, either to the land or to Adonai Himself, with dreadful consequences should I betray that sacred bond.

When the livestock were cut in two, I drained their blood into a trench, and I did not sever the birds but cut off their heads and drained their blood into the trench as well.

Then I waited all day, and the sun rose above the horizon and made is circuit across the sky as I waited, until it was descending yet again.  And carrion fowl began to descend upon the carcasses, and I had to drive them away, for Adonai delayed, it seemed, in coming to the blood path ceremony that He had arranged.

As the sun was going down, I felt exhaustion overcome me, and I slept very deeply.  And lo, I awakened suddenly, and I was terrified, and there was a darkness clinging to everything so that this time even the light of the stars was obscured and I was oppressed by the utter darkness, as though suddenly blind.

And Adonai spoke unto me and said “know for certain that your seed shall be a stranger in a land not theirs, and shall serve them; and they shall afflict them four hundred years; and also that nation, whom they shall serve, I will judge: and afterward shall they come out with great substance.  And you shall go to your fathers in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age.  But in the fourth generation they shall come here again: the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full.”

And the sun, which had not set but which I could barely see through the great darkness, set below the horizon so that somehow it was even more dark in Canaan, and I knew that I must now walk the blood path.

I had questioned my God one too many times, and now He was calling me to task for my doubt.  I must “know for certain” that all these things would happen and I must question them no more, and might it be done to me as I had done to these animals in butchering them so, if I should doubt my God again.

But behold, as I rose to walk the blood path, a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp passed before me, and it was they that passed between the pieces.  I thought to ask what was the meaning of this, but God gave me the answer, for He enabled me to see that this was not a covenant based on my righteousness, but on His.  That this was not a covenant forged at the cost of my blood, but of His.  That the dreadful consequences of our partnership were not mine to bear, but His.

And He spoke to me the words of a covenant, saying “Unto your seed I have given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates: the Kenites, and the Kenizzites, and the Kadmonites, and the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Rephims, and the Armories, and the Canaanites, and the Girgashites, and the Jebusites,” and I sank to the ground in exhaustion and wonder and I worshiped El Elyon, who has no equal nor anyone who can counsel Him in heaven or on earth; the ancient of days, the beginning and the end, the one and only God who is and who was and who is to come, amen.

Chapter 32: Melchizedek

Melchizedek, priest of El Elyon

Setting: Genesis 14:17-15:21

Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness, and you who would seek the LORD.  Look to the rock from which you were hewn and the quarry from which you were dug.  Look to Abraham, your father, and to Sarah, your mother.  For he was but one when Adonai called him, that El Elyon might bless him and multiply him.  For Adonai comforts Zion; he comforts all her waste places and makes her wild places like the garden of God.  Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voices of song. 

And kings shall see and rise up, that they may prostrate themselves because of Adonai, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you. 

Chapter 31: Eliezer

Eliezer of Damascius, servant of Abram

Setting: Genesis 14:15-16

Extra-biblical Sources: Bereishit Rabbah 43:2

At the river Pharpar I was entrusted by Abram with Lot and his wife and daughters, and these I escorted to safety in a little village where I felt certain they would be safe.  Having done so, I ran with what swiftness I could muster to rejoin the fight.

I followed in the steps of the pursuers for hours until finally I came to the place at Hobah where the final battle was fought.

Hours later, when it was clear that the last of Chedorlaomer’s men was slain, I sank to the ground in exhaustion, with blood and sweat soaked into my clothes and my left hand scarcely able to release its grip on my sword.

Abram came along and sat down beside me, with tears in his eyes.  He gestured east. 

“Elohim has called you back to Damascus once more,” he said.

“Elohim?”  I heard myself repeat the name.  It was a word I had not heard him speak before.  Only “El” or “El Elyon” or “Adonai,” but certainly the grandiosity of “Elohim” is appropriate to our God.

“We might never have come by Damascus again, were it not for this war.  Perhaps Elohim is calling you back to your true home.”

“Has Elohim told you this?”  I asked.

“He has not.  But would He have me to keep you in bondage after you have fought alongside me with such selflessness and righteousness.  You are free, my brother.  If you will, live and die and sleep with your fathers.”

“I will not.”  I heard myself say.  “Where you go, I will go.  Your people are my people.  Your Elohim is my Elohim.  I was born in your household and I will die in it.  And may I indeed sleep with my father: Abram.”

He stood, and stretched out his arms so that I stood and embraced him and we kissed each other and we wept.  This felt to me like an act of forgiveness, for when Abram instructed us to prepare for the pursuit of Chedorlaomer’s army, I sought to dissuade him of the endeavor. 

“My lord,” said I, “five kings could not defeat them, and yet shall we?” 

Many others agreed with me and there was murmuring in the camp.

“Very well,” Abram had said, “stay then, all of you who are fearful, in the Kiriath-Arba.  But my brother Lot is captured, and his wife and daughters with him.  I will go forth alone if I must, and fall slain in sanctifying the name of the Holy One, blessed be He.”

It was unthinkable that we should watch our father go off alone to fight the enemy.  We were ashamed, all of us, and not one man stayed behind.  We were ready to live and die with Abram in the name of Adonai.

Even now, I am ashamed that I spoke out in unbelief that day.  Like most men, I live my life in fear of losing what is precious to me, and in hope of attaining what I desire.  But not Abram.

Abram forsook his inheritance in Harran to wander in the desert, and yet he prospered and his household grew.

Abram forsook his wife to the Egyptian, and yet she remained untouched, and he was blessed all the more with the riches of Egypt.

Abram forsook the well-watered lands around Sodom and Gomorrah and dwelt in the wilderness of Hebron, yet his strength grew ever more.

Abram forsook all prudence and security to pursue an army much greater in number than his own.  And that he did that he might rescue a quarrelsome Nephew that parted with him in order to claim the better part of the land.

Yet for this he received great spoils of war, and what is more, much honor.

Even in the aftermath of the battle, Abram behaved not as other men.  For he paid the inhabitants of Hobah handsomely, that they would bury not only the slain of our men, who were few, but also the many, many dead of the Mesopotamians.  While it is the custom of vicious kings to allow the beasts and the birds to feast upon their fallen enemies, Abram would not have it so.  He declared that in all men is the breath of life, the very ruach of Elohim, and in properly burying them he honored even those whom his soul hated.