Journey to Moriah (page 1)

  • Welcome to Christian Forums, a Christian Forum that recognizes that all Christians are a work in progress.

    You will need to register to be able to join in fellowship with Christians all over the world.

    We hope to see you as a part of our community soon and God Bless!

Ben Abraham

Active Member
Dec 13, 2020
441
198
43
70
Houston
Faith
Christian
Country
United States
JOURNEY TO MORIAH

by Rabbi Ben Abraham (from my eBook "God Tales")


The old man slowly lifted the flap covering the entrance to his tent. He looked down at his wife who was fast asleep on the large ornate rug covering the sandy dirt floor. If only she knew what the true purpose of this trip was. She would die a thousand deaths. There would be no turning back. He had to obey, no questions asked. It was just a matter of obedience. He had his orders from above. He would obey no matter what.

He walked outside into the early morning desert air. It was still cool and the ground moist from the night’s dew. Soon, the sun would rise over the eastern horizon and scorch the desert sand like a furnace.

The old man had a small ram’s horn tucked under his cloth belt that was wound about his tunic. He took it out and blew a long blast that resonated across the desert sands. He observed the many tents that covered the encampment. From two tents, two of his servants emerged, ready for the three-day journey that was ahead. They began folding and securing the tenting, poles, ropes, and wooden pegs to the backs of two donkeys.

Food was also secured for the trip. The servants packed dried fruit, dried lamb, goat meat, and skins of water. The old man personally bound sticks of wood to his donkey

And placed the piece of iron and a flint stone in a pouch on the donkey’s saddle. All was ready, only now he had to get his son up. He went over to his son’s tent and slowly lifted the flap that covered the entrance. His son was still asleep on the rug, covered with some blankets woven from sheep’s wool. Perhaps, he hadn’t heard the ram’s horn.

The father bent down and shook his son ever so softly.

“Son, it’s time.”

The son slowly opened his eyes and looked up at his father.

“Alright father, I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” said the son, slowly pushing aside the woolen blankets, reaching for his sandals.

The father stepped out of his son’s tent and went over to the servants who were readying the asses and making sure that everything was tied and secure. The old man nodded his head in approval, seeing that everything was in order. He turned to look toward his son’s tent, seeing him emerging, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but still ready for the long, three-day trip from Beersheba to the land of Moriah.

“Let’s go” shouted the old man, as he lifted his staff in the air. The four-man caravan started moving northward along a familiar trail which stood out among the desert sands.

Here and there, small desert animals would scurry around; serpents, scorpions, and lizards, all searching the sands for their morning meals.

Time passed slowly, as the caravan moved ever so slowly northward. The sun grew high into the clear, cloudless sky touching the travelers with its rays of intense heat.

At midday, the group stopped for a rest. There was a small oasis where the thirsty donkeys drank their fill of fresh, cool water. The group sat down and ate some dried fruit and a few strips of dried goat meat

The old man, however, did not eat. He wandered off from the group and just stood with eyes glued to the horizon in the east. He stood there deep in thought when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Father, will we continue our journey?”

“Now” replied the father, “we leave now.

Father and son returned to the two servants who were already waiting by the donkeys.

The servants were wondering about the full purpose of this trip, as the old man did not give a detailed explanation. They were just to be ready to make a three-day trip to the land of Moriah.

The old man gave the word, and the group of four moved out, continuing along the dry, dusty road northward to Moriah. The sun traveled across the clear, blue sky, its heat scorching the travelers with its intensity. The desert wind swirled columns of dust around and around them as they continued their trip north.

At the end of the first day, the old man gave the order to set up camp. The servants untied the tent poles with the ropes and the tenting cloth from the backs of the weary donkeys. As soon as the camp was set up, the servants, the old man, and his son sat down around a small fire and talked about the events of the day. Bread was broken and passed around along with strips of dried goat meat warmed over the fire. There was also a small sack filled with dried dates and figs.

The sun went down over the western horizon, the servants and the old man’s son went into their tents for the night. Only the old man continued to sit by the fire. After a while, he got up. With staff in hand, he walked away from the camp until the campfire was just a glowing speck in the distance. He sat down on a large rock and stared into the star-filled night sky toward the east.

He sat there thinking of God’s promise, the promise of a nation, a nation descending from his seed. But how would that be possible now? His thoughts turned to the past, a past of bitter memories. He remembered the once populous city of Sodom which lay toward the south of the great sea of the east. It was a sea that once teemed with life, but now, void of all living creatures. God had brought judgment to Sodom and Gomorra for their wickedness and vile sin.

The LORD rained down fire and brimstone so much that, save for his nephew Lot and his daughters, not so much as one soul escaped the inferno. Now Sodom and Gomorra are no more. Their inhabitants as well as the sea near it, dead. The once living sea became a sea of salt. A sea which witnessed the wickedness of its vile neighbors, the children of sin who perished under the weight of the fire of God, to arise no more.

The old man continued to stare into the east, his head filled with those memories. He lifted his head up to gaze into the starry sky. His eyes followed a star as it streaked across the heavens. His thoughts again returned to the promise, a promise made to him so many years ago. Somehow, it would come to past. A nation would come from his son.

Suddenly, the old man heard footsteps. He looked toward the encampment to see a figure walking toward him in the light of the moon. The moonlight revealed the figure of his son.

“You can’t sleep father?” asked the son as he walked up beside the old man.

“No,” said the old man as he embraced his son. “I have a lot on my mind” looking again towards the east.

“You’re thinking of Sodom, aren’t you?” said the son, also turning to look towards the east.

“Yes son”, replied the old man, “the LORD is not willing that anyone should perish, but because of the extreme wickedness of the people of Sodom and Gomorra, their destruction was imminent”.

“Were the little children and babies of Sodom and Gomorra wicked too" asked the son looking deeply into his father’s eyes.

The old man thought for a while, gazing again toward the east. His son asked an interesting question which needed to be answered with wisdom. He turned again to face his son.

“What would have been better son?” asked the father, “that innocent children grow up to be wicked and vile sinners, to be destroyed and forever be separated from the presence of God? Or that the LORD take the innocent children to be with him and so avoid becoming vile and wicked sinners, and thus destroyed, forever to be separated from his holy presence?”

The old man’s son thought for a while. His father’s wisdom made sense. “I understand father” replied the son, slowly nodding his head. The two continued to stare off into the eastern sky, their thought now like-minded. Above them, the twinkling stars slowly moved across the night sky, reminders of the promise made years ago. Both father and son were very much part of that promise.

“let’s go back to our tents son,” said the old man, turning again toward the small encampment, “the night is still young”. Walking side by side, both the old man and his son walked back to their encampment for a good night’s rest.

By mid-morning, the small caravan was on its way again heading north to Moriah. The group trudged on and, stopping to rest at midday when the strong desert sun was directly overhead, bearing down with all of its intense heat. The group refilled the water skins with fresh, cool water from an oasis. The beasts also had their rest, drinking the cool, refreshing water from the oasis together with the grain that the servants had brought for them. (con't on page 2)

 
  • Like
Reactions: amadeus