Sacrifice & Terror
Genesis, Part Six
A fire in the head! Dyson lecture on Yeats, Pembroke College, Cambridge - gentler than it looks. Thanks to Mark Wormald and team for a grand night, and for so many of you for coming!
Some Refuge Here:
Two beautiful movies just made free by my buddy and director Haydn Reiss in the midst of the horror of war.
New interview:
And announcing an event with Rowan Williams and Mark Rylance:
July 2nd, Southwark Cathedral, London – I'll be in conversation with Mark Rylance and Rowan Williams about an imaginative and storied universe. Tickets are very reasonable and are available at the link. I'm really looking forward to this one: Liturgies of the Wild, Southwark Cathedral
We will be having a break from the Bible stories for a few weeks after today’s lengthy ending to the story of Abraham and Sarah. I’ve told these stories in a fairly loyal, if sometimes slightly plodding style. The reason being I want to get their progression fairly impacted in my head. After a break I will circle back and find the watering holes for my imagination – the places to really dive into and expand. They will hopefully transform into a more vivacious expression once I’ve sat with this initial safari. But for now, this rather down-to-the-bones type telling is the appropriate move. Build your house on the rocks as dear mother tells me (and very Happy Mothers Day all mums!).
Terror on the Mountain
One morning, years on, Maker decided to speak again to Abraham. Abraham being over a hundred years old could be forgiven for imagining his biggest challenges were behind him. Time to sit back a little. Count the sheep, peel a grape. This day, Maker’s request for Abraham was going to be very different.
- That son you finally had. After all the decades of waiting and me promising. I know how much you love him. Well, this is what I want. Take the two of you on a walk into the land of Moriah. Keep an eye for a mountain that I’ll point out. I want the lad as a burnt offering. Kill him for me.
Storytellers don’t mention much about Abraham’s feelings, but we can well imagine. Old gods appeared to make these grotesque demands frequently. This horror had been part of the wider cultures of the area.
But surely not from the God he’d followed so faithfully?
Burdened, Abraham got up before dawn – had he slept? – and saddled the donkey. Isaac and two servants came with him. With some wood he had split for the offering they travelled for three days until Abraham just knew he was looking at the appointed mountain. He halted the servants and said this:
- Just me and my son from here on in. Stay with the donkey as we go worship up on the mountain. Afterwards, we’ll come back to you.
Note ‘we’ll’. Abraham must have been praying hard. Sweating blood. He looked again at Isaac, his darling boy, and handed him the split wood to carry.
Ishmael he’d exiled, and now Isaac he’d butcher? On what planet is this a loving God?
Asked Isaac:
- Where’s the sheep for the burnt offering?
- God will supply it.
Isaac hefted the dry wood onto his shoulders – rather like a cross – looking enquiringly at his dad. Abraham assembled the altar, laid out the wood, tied his grown son up – snorting with fear, eyes rolling – and placed him on the kindling. He raised his blade to do the killing. Everything in the world held its breath.