The Frustrated Parade Marshall

The Frustrated Parade Marshall

Matthew 21:1-18
Karl Evans

This fellow was with Jesus since the earliest days of the movement, from the days in Galilee. He was not the first to come on board, however. He was just certainly one of the first and one of the most devoted.

Our hero had at first been an outsider. He was something of a loner. After time and after putting a great effort into Jesus' work he was finally a trusted part of the inner circle.

Now, on the long trip to Jerusalem, he was able to showcase his work. His ability to handle details of lodging and housing and support was really beginning to pay off. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to find just the right accommodations. This kept the tiny band of wanderers from coming unglued entirely.

His work was unsung. Few apart from Jesus paid any attention to his successes and his toil. But he knew slowly and surely he was working his way into a position of strength within the group. This was important.

As the little band gathered in every town, people came to see Jesus. They wanted healing, or to be seen with Jesus, or to challenge his authority. They wanted to invite him to their home for dinner or to spend the night.

First, though, anyone who wanted to see Jesus had to deal with this fellow. He had things organized and wanted to keep them that way. He had an elaborate little system of procedures, simple yet adequate. This kept things on an even keel.

These procedures also helped ensure when they left even the larger towns such as Jericho the same small band went on together. Thus they left behind the citizens of the smaller towns to wonder who had really been among them.

When they were out on the road again, there was work to do. Our hero would pick up the pieces and get the group ready for the next town. He would tell them what the town was like, who was important and who was not. He would go to various disciples and tell them about a specific person they might try to find and talk with.

Then, while the group was in town, our man double-checked everyone's assignments, then began to prepare for the next community. He had worked all these communities before in the short period of time he had traded in the area. He personally knew just about every important person in the nation. Now he had an opportunity to put those old acquaintanceships to good purpose. He was very good at what he did. Jesus knew he needed this man for the mission.

Jerusalem was a huge challenge. It was much larger than the other towns they visited, larger even than Jericho. There was more wealth, more power, many more self-claimed important people. There would be many persons resistant to being moved around by a forceful intruder from the north.

But it was not an impossible task. Judas knew he was up to it. With any kind of luck the little group would survive Jerusalem in good order. They would make their visit to the Temple, burn their incense and call it a day. They would sacrifice a dove or two or perhaps a lamb during the Passover festival. They might even celebrate the Passover together as a family before they left town.

Our man knew it was critical to be ready to leave quickly. But he also knew it was important to Jesus and the others to be in Jerusalem at Passover.

"Next year in Jerusalem!" This had been the rallying cry of the Hebrews at Passover since the days of the Captivity. Dozens of generations of families have gone by since the captivity. Yet many families had not seen any family member able to stand at the Temple during these holy days. Many of these men and women would never have another opportunity.

This was the great opportunity, and it would be done properly if everyone would just stay in step.

Probably the person who was most likely to get out of line was Jesus himself. He had a way of doing things on his own which frustrated the best of plans. But one could not complain too much. After all, he was what this whole parade was about.

But our man was confident. Had he not brought the group this far safely? His plans were ready. Even the procession to the Temple was in order. First, two or three of the disciples would come carrying banners proclaiming the salvation of the nation.

Then the other disciples would come walking in order of age. Our man tried to come up with a marching order that recognized some criteria of rank within the organization. He deserved to lead it, but he knew the others would not go for this. Their egalitarian spirit deeply frustrated him.

But populism would be all right in this instance. The disciples would be moving around greeting people and letting the world know their faces. They would kiss the babies and tease the children. They might even carry a banner proclaiming "This year in Jerusalem!".

Then Jesus would come riding a chariot our friend had arranged with a local friendly chariot rental service. There would be none of the rent-a-junker stuff, either. This had to be first class.

Then the women and anyone else of lower class who wanted to join in would come at the end.

Then on to the Temple. There the great welcome would spontaneously erupt when the crowd recognized who was coming.

Oh, yes, our hero. He would not be directly in the parade. He was much too busy for participation. Besides, marching was for the ordinary folk, like Simon and James. Our man still had trouble with the nickname Jesus had placed on Simon. Jesus used the silly word "Peter." Calling him "The Rock" seemed to refer more to the state of Simon's mind than anything else.

But with the procession, our hero would march proudly, moving forward and back. He would walk slightly to the side, keeping the whole organization in order. Someone had to check the timing and speed and discipline for maximum crowd effect. He would watch the faces of the crowd, checking for responses.

Of course, they would probably ask him to sign a few autographs. He wouldn’t really mind.

But wouldn't you know it. Some things went wrong and our hero was nearly frantic.

First, the chariot wasn't there on time. Jesus insisted on riding a donkey which one disciple found tied at the gate of the city. Oh, the horror of it! The Son of Man, the King of the Jews, riding a jackass! This embarrassment rather than the royal $400 per hour chariot which they had already contracted!

This was not a typical Jerusalem crowd. The Jews had an ancient rallying cry of the people at Passover, "Next year in Jerusalem." Many people in the distant towns took being in Jerusalem at this time of year very seriously.

Then, because they came as pilgrims, the additional crowd of beggars and thieves and pickpockets showed up to conduct their own businesses. Others brought out trinkets and fast food and hats and even palm branches to sell to the pilgrims headed for the Temple. Pilgrims have always been an easy mark.

In the milling around, in the confusion, the crowd started gathering without any order. The disciples who were supposed to lead the procession lost their banners to beggars looking for clothing. These people would steal anything!

The disciples were forced to tear some palm branches off the closest trees just to have something to wave.

Worse than that, by the time they got the branches cleaned and ready, Jesus had already started his donkey ride up the street. Jesus was just beginning to press his way through the mob of people. These were not the dignitaries of the city who should have been at the parade. Rather, they were riffraff who gathered just to see what the excitement was. The disciples could only follow along and wave their palm branches in the air.

Other people saw the branches. Some thought this looked like a good thing. It was a traditional parade activity for the Jews, of course. Boys quickly scampered up the trees and cut more branches to sell to the parade watchers for waving and for fanning themselves.

Soon the whole mob was just sort of slowly stampeding its way toward the Temple. It moved at the slow pace of a less-than-eager donkey. At first, no one really knew why they were going to the Temple.

All the slogans our hero had drilled into the disciples were lost. The disciples scattered among the crowd of tourists and beggars and palm branch sellers. Finally someone picked up an easy one which seemed to stick. Shouts of "Hosanna!" and "Here comes the King" sounded through the crowd. Then the crowd began to suspect the meaning of the parade.
It's easy to join in a parade as long as you are not the one who has to pay if the revolution fails.

Our poor hero, now just struggling to keep up with the crowd, was simply lost. All his planning, all his struggles were wasted. They trampled all his weeks of thought and preparation for this day under the feet of these undisciplined new followers of Jesus. They didn't even know his name!

Our man was heartbroken. He began to make rude comments about the clumsy newcomers who had made the parade their parade. He scorned the wandering disciples who wouldn't help him get things organized.

This illiterate mob with no sense of timing was destroying all of Jesus' work. They simply had no idea what was appropriate action around the Son of Man. He might be the King of the Jews, the One who rightfully belonged on the throne, but the crowd did not know how to treat him.

Our hero began to curse this mob which forced him out to the sidelines. They pushed and shoved as they tried to get closer to the one who would bring in the Kingdom of God.

Judas cried "But this isn't right! Get back in line! This is supposed to be a royal parade. It is certainly not a street dance after a victory by some foreign gladiators!"

Grabbing and holding, trying to make people follow the pattern he had so carefully laid out, he failed. Judas couldn't get these new followers of Jesus to fit the patterns of the well-planned parade. Our hero became so frustrated he wanted to shake from his feet the dust of the whole mess.

At last one woman who had been trying to get past our man for several minutes lost her patience. As the parade moved yelled in his ear, she yelled at Judas. The whole crowd could have heard her voice. "If you don't want to move along with Jesus, stand aside. Don't block the parade! Don't block those of us who want to be with him! If you do want to move with Jesus, join the parade. Don't gripe about it! Join the parade or move over!"

What? Join the parade? An invitation to join the parade? Our hero who had masterminded the whole thing?

Our hero who had laid the best plans, although circumstances had forced them to be laid aside?

Our hero who had been with the group from the beginning? Someone who had been a follower of Jesus for less than ten minutes was now telling our hero to join the parade?

They were ignoring our hero with deep credentials of long standing. They were pushing the months of trial serving Jesus and his ministry aside.

Now, with the rabble clearly taking over the procession, Judas had to act. The rabble was indeed taking over the entire process of Jesus’ ministry. He would have to force the crowd and Jesus to make the shift. They must move from operating as a rampaging mob to being a steady governing body for the New Kingdom.

It seemed to him the only way to do this was to shock this crowd to its senses. They needed to be brought to their knees by some great miraculous event.

He had seen Jesus do miracles. He had seen the lame walk, and the blind see. He had been there at the feeding of the five thousand. He knew what Jesus could do, if Jesus were forced.

But here was the problem. Jesus would have to be forced to perform the greatest miracle of all time. This would bring the whole nations to its knees in front before its new king.

So our hero made his plan, laying out in his minds the actions and responses which would finally lead to this great miracle. There would have to be a trial, perhaps even an attempted execution. But there, at the last second, Jesus would save himself. When Jesus would walk away, everyone everywhere would finally know this One was the rightful King of the Jews.

The confusion and clamor of the rabble grew as they escorted Jesus to the great temple of the Lord. Quietly, Judas Iscariot drifted away from the disciples and made his way to the High Priests.

Scythopolis

Scythopolis

Luke 10:1-20

Karl Evans

The Second Dozen around Jesus was very important to Jesus. This group seemed to do all the work. The gospels teem with stories of these hard workers going here and there for Jesus. They recruited. They found food and lodging. They went places Jesus could never go. But they worked without fanfare. The first dozen got the credit.

One of this second twelve was an ordinary fellow, Elos by name. Elos worked hard in the name of his master. He just saw himself as committed totally to Jesus. He was really just, well, not as well known as some of the disciples.

Jesus sent some second twelve workers out to all the towns in the north of Palestine. Others made their way into Lebanon. Some went to Egypt, or even Jerusalem. Many of them would never return after being sent out. They were victims of accident, disease, or repression. Some were unable to keep the faith. Others just found work that kept them busy until the day they died.

But not the first thirteen. Most of the first group stayed close. They may have felt the need to stay in touch. Staying in touch seemed somehow critical. Some catastrophe such as the end of the world might come about. Or they might just lose track of each other, not be able to make contact. Then again, some were prepared to spend the next several days in prayer.

After Jesus finished giving everyone else their assignments, he studied Elos a moment. He furrowed his brow and squinted his eyes as if deep in thought before speaking.

"Elos, I have a challenge for you. Everyone else is going out two at a time to spread the Kingdom. Some are going north to Damascus. Some are headed for Jerusalem, or for Egypt. Some are going around Lake Tiberias into the Decapolis. Everyone has their own assignment now except you.”

“I haven't forgotten you. I have a special task for you. A little town called Scythopolis is crying out. I think just for you. It is very important to me. There are some personal things there . . .” Jesus’ voice trail off. He paused, deep in thought, before he spoke again.

“The people there have asked for someone to come talk about the Kingdom of God. I want you to go there. The problem is, I don't have anyone to send with you. I had hoped someone else would come along, but no one has. Are you willing to go by yourself? Do you think you can handle it?"

"Scythopolis!" thought the dumbstruck Elos. "Scythopolis! No one wants to go to Scythopolis. Good grief! I can't go there. They resent even their own prophets there. They string up their prophets up on a tree. At least they did this to the last fellow who went there to announce a new world. They put a crown of thorns on his head and called him the King." The image dancing in Elos’ head panicked him for a moment.

The stream of confused thoughts continued. "I can't do it. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I'm too young to die. Do I have to go alone? Why me? Send me to Tyre or Sidon. If I fail there, at least I can just get on a ship and keep on going. Or send me to Babylon so I can be a slave.”

In his thoughts Elos cried out. “Send me to Egypt so I can build another pyramid in my captivity. That would be easier than preaching in Scythopolis. Am I actually going to Scythopolis? Forget it, buster!" His daydreams were filled with rebellion. But he spoke cautiously.
_

"Jesus, uuuhhhh, I think I need to pray about this. It would be very difficult, you know. I hear there are some strong persons there who are pretty set in their ways. They are all Samaritans! Every one of them. Samaritans don't take too kindly to outsiders. Samaritans do not really understand our religion, our theology. They carry long knives. My mother told me I should not marry a Samaritan. I don't know the language all that well. I hear the cost of living is very high there."

Jesus laughed. Elos had always liked to hear Jesus laugh, but not now. "Elos, I am not sending you to Scythopolis to build a harem or to produce a large family. People there need me. I just cannot go every place and talk to every person. Do you understand?”

“Go to Scythopolis and you will find the wildest thing. The people there are just ordinary folk. Teachers and rabbis and cooks and children. The mayor is a decent chap, although he is getting on in years. I know a counselor who has a son who is spoiled rotten.”
_

“When you go to the inn, tell them I sent you, and they will put you up free. They have promised me this. Just go, and tell them about me. Tell them you have talked with me, you have seen me. That's all you have to do. Will you go?"

Jesus really didn't give Elos a chance to say "No!" Before Elos knew what was up, he was on his way south. The distance was not far, and there were many people on the road to walk with. Soon he was near the little Samaritan town of Scythopolis. As he came near the ancient Greek city, he had the strangest feeling he had been part of this scene before.

It was just as Jesus had described the town. Jesus gave Elos so many details Elos suspected Jesus had been there and made the arrangements. That would have had to happen during a time Jesus just disappeared for several days. He did this sometimes.

In Scythopolis, Elos found teachers and rabbis with their funny little black hats. There were dogs and cats, chickens and cattle, camels and horses. He found a market, and an inn, and a synagogue. He was not to sure about visiting a Samaritan synagogue.

Elos met the mayor who obviously expected Jesus to send someone. Perhaps the mayor looked for someone with a higher status in the organization. The mayor was getting old, and was gray and too plump to be a great politician.

The mayor introduced him to the chief rabbi in town who also served as a community counselor. The rabbi was busy writing a grant to attend a conference at Tyre. He needed to spend a few days getting training in new methods. He also yearned to catch a few rays of ocean front sunshine.

The counselor's son kept interrupting the conversation. Finally he kicked Elos in the shin and screamed "Get out of here! I want to talk now!" This confused Elos, but he did not speak of the bratty child.

The mayor took Elos to the inn which was run by Jacob with help from a woman called Elissa. Elissa was a dressmaker, but as her eyes failed she had to find other work. The inn was the only available work in town.

Now because it was late in the evening, Jacob provided a meal of mutton stew for Elos. After Elos ate, Jacob showed Elos the corner of the room where he would be sleeping.

At one time, Scythopolis had a fairly heavy traffic of commercial travelers. Now few people came through the town. The commercial travelers all slept on the floor on straw pallets in the big room. During the day the pallets were picked up and piled neatly in the corner.

The straw pallets attracted many mice, and the mice attracted many cats. Jacob told Elos he had wanted to get rid of some cats, but Elissa wouldn't let him do it. She said they needed the cats to keep the mouse population down. But forty-'leven cats?

Elos’ feet were so tired he really did not care about Elissa’s many cats. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't even care if half the travelers and dogs in the place snored. Nothing could be worse than James and John. Jesus and the other disciples called James and John Sons of Thunder. He did appreciate, however, the cat. It came to his bed at night and curled itself up at his feet. The warmth felt good, and he was soon fast asleep.

Suddenly a man roared in the dim lamplight and started everything going. Dogs panicked and started fighting. Cats scattered. Elos sat up in a daze and wondered whether to panic and run. He knew, he just knew, he should not have come. The tiny lamp burned through the night to help folks avoid trampling each other. Now the dim light only allowed some sense of forms jumping and moving around, wondering.

Finally the voice of the man who had started the confusion came strong and clear. "Settle down. Go back to sleep. That blasted cat just licked the bottom of my foot. Good . . . night."

Elos learned to put up with the cats. Elissa was very kind and made it worth the trouble. When Elos went out into the town in the early morning. He often found someone who was hungry or sleeping under the bridge. This stranger was someone to feed. At first Elos begged the merchants around town to help him provide for the poor. They soon tired of the drain on their purses. He began to bring them back to the inn for food. He offered to go without a meal or a place to sleep if Elissa would help him care for the stranger.

Dear Elissa would provide a bath, and some food. Then through much of the night Elos and Jacob and Elissa and some others who couldn't sleep would sit and talk. They talked mostly about trying to make life better. They hoped only to take some first steps toward helping the poorest of the poor find food and shelter. These weak ones might later become the leaders of the community. For now, these people needed to know God loved them. They needed food and shelter just to live.

The process seemed long and hard, harder even than Elos had feared. Elos doubted he was doing any good in Scythopolis. He tried and tried. He talked to every person he could find. Scouring the streets was not productive. He talked to rabbis, and homemakers, and merchants, and children. Elos tried everything he could think of. He succeeded only in growing more discouraged as time went on.

Finally the time came to report to Jesus what had happened in Scythopolis. Elos knew from experience the words Jesus expected to hear. Jesus would take the time to listen to a full report. Jesus would want to know what great things he had done for Scythopolis. He would ask how many lives Elos had renewed.

Elos was most embarrassed when he thought he had wasted his time. He knew he had spent much time trying to help the poor people of Scythopolis. He helped them to just stay alive. Elos helped them find food and shelter and new life. He had not built any organization. He knew he had not really spent much time talking about Jesus. There just wasn't time.

Elos needed to take someone with him just to prove he had not just been standing around in Scythopolis. He thought of all those he had tried to help. In frustration he panicked, knowing well that apparently he hadn't really helped anyone.

Several alcoholics had gone back to the jug. Some of his projects had just wandered off, kings of the road, not wanting to stay in town. Some had just come in for the bath and for the food. When the sun came up, they were on the road again. It was very frustrating for Elos.

The night before Elos was to return north to Jesus and admit his failure, he struggled with his own failure. He sat outside the inn with his head in his hands. Elissa came and sat beside him. "Elos, what's the problem? I thought you would be excited about going back to the Sea of Galilee and seeing Jesus and your old friends again. You are moping around here as if you don't really want to go. What is it?"

Elo s admitted to Elissa his worry about standing in the gathering of the followers of Jesus. He struggled to admit his failure to renew the town of Scythopolis. He couldn't see he had helped anyone find a new life. No one. No success. Everything in town looked pretty much as it did on the da y he came.

Elos and Elissa sat in the cool evening, wondering. What might have been if they had some money to work with? Maybe if Jesus could have sent someone with Elos. They talked about all those with whom they had worked. They talked about their hopes for successes in the future. Elos knew not much could be claimed as success tonight. As the evening went on, at least Elos could talk to someone about his problems. Maybe he would get some sleep that night.

Finally, after a long period of silently listening and thinking, Elissa spoke softly. "Would you like me to go with you and be there when you speak? I'd like to meet this Jesus you have talked so much about. I'm sure Jacob will let me have a few days off. The cats will be all right."

Elos laughed. This wasn't exactly what he had expected. Elissa? Hardly a new person. Hardly one who had made a major shift in the direction of her life. Elissa was a good woman, not one who had seen a new light, ethically and morally. Elos could not brag to Jesus about having changed Elissa’s place in the community. No one would whisper their appreciation for the work of Elos in Scythopolis based on any changes in Elissa.

Elissa would be good company on the trip if she didn't insist on bringing all those blasted cats. OOOhhhhh, my!

Two days later they were near Capernaum in the evening, down by the lake. Jesus was there, and the disciples, and the rest of the second twelve. The word spread that Jesus was calling his people together for a meeting. Some curious people came out from town, curious about Jesus. They were curious about those who had gone away, and were now returning. Some wanted to support the work. They just came along to be helpful in whatever way they could. Some came expecting some kind of miracle.

Jesus asked the disciples and the second twelve to come away from the crowd for a time. He wanted to be with them, to talk privately with them, and to pray with them.

A disciple pointed out the crowd was hungry. A few biscuits and a couple fish were all the food available to feed them.

Jesus took these simple foods, blessed them, and handed them to the disciples. "Here, take this food, and feed the people. Then bring what you have left over and come join the rest of us. We will be up by that rock." A couple disciples smiled at the joke of there being any food left over. Jesus pointed to an outcropping on the hill and started for it.

Jesus took the second twelve off by themselves while the disciples began to serve the people. When Jesus and his people gathered near the rock, he asked how they had been feeding the people.

A couple had been to Tiberias and had cast out demons in the name of the Lord. Two had just recently returned from Sidon where they had worked among the Roman garrison there. On and on it went. It seemed each person had a more successful story to tell.

Finally, at last, only Elos had not spoken. Jesus turned to Elos. "I sent you to Scythopolis to feed my sheep. What happened to you there? Tell us all the great things you have accomplished."

Elos hung his head. He was trying to gather his courage to admit failure when he heard a voice beside him speaking. "Let me answer for Elos! He is very bashful just now. My name is Elissa. I can say what Elos cannot find words to say.”

“I am a simple woman. All my adult life I have lived alone until just recently. I have made a few shekels sewing clothes for the wealthy. Even sewing for the poor in Scythopolis has given me a small profit.”

“My friends have been my cats, so many of them I could not count. My pay for sewing for the poor has often been in fish. I have fed the fish to my cats--or any cats who have come to me for food. They have been my family.”

“Not long ago I began to lose my sense of touch. I could not sew. The needle would not hold in my hand. I found work cleaning and cooking and keeping accounts at the inn of a friend.”

“I was lost. I held a job I didn't understand and didn't want to do. The people who came in were tired and cranky from travel. They were dirty from the dust of the road. They smelled like camels and donkeys and dogs and cattle. I did not think I could do the work. I knew I did not want to do the work. Quit the job! Just wander off into the desert and die.“

“One night Elos brought someone else with him. Elos had been staying in the inn a few days. Elos paid for a bath and food for him. The next night it was a different man who was the guest. Then it was an elderly woman. Elos brought others. I wondered about Elos, whether he knew what he was doing.”

“One night he came to me asking if I knew of some way he could work off the bath and the food. We arranged some things with the people we knew. Every night for the next three weeks, someone else came for help. I began to look forward to the evening, wondering whom Elos would bring.”

“Each night he would come to the door with a frustrated look in his eyes, or maybe be apologetic. When he asked for help for his new friend, I always gave him a hard time. I'd say `Not again!'.”

“I began to enjoy helping. I began to enjoy life again. I began to hear the birds sing. I stopped to watch little children play."

As Elissa talked, Elos watched her only in his heart. He remembered the many hours of talking with her. He recalled the strength she seemed to pour into his soul to keep him going. Now he could clearly see her face in his heart's eye as she spoke words he could not find.

"When Elos said he had to come back here and tell you about his failure, I cried. He was embarrassed. He was frustrated.”

“I knew he hadn't failed. He had not failed because at least he changed me. My life was entirely new. I have new hope.”

“Jesus, you changed Elos. You changed his life into something new, and exciting, and wonderful. When you did, you changed my life.”

“So I had to come, because Elos didn't know how he changed my life. He came to Scythopolis just for me. Other people there needed you. You would never see them. He came to Scythopolis just for me, and it's through him I know you, Jesus."

Elos felt the tears running down his cheeks, but no one saw them. Just then some disciples came up the hill to Jesus and the second twelve.

"This is what's left of the food. Enough for everyone here. We don't understand. We started with just a little bit, and started feeding people. Now we have more than we did when we started. We don't understand."

Jesus smiled and replied "I think Elissa does. I think Elissa understands."

Assyrian Creation Story

Enuma Elish

When on High

Karl Evans


From about the time of Ezekiel
Adapted by Dr. Karl Evans
from the work of Dr. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testaments, and many others.

Sometimes we wonder what difference it makes
What religion we follow,
What beliefs we hold.

Does it matter whether we are Methodist,
Or even Christian, or Muslim or Parsi?
Perhaps there is no difference?

Perhaps it makes no difference what we believe.
Perhaps it makes no difference why we are created,
Or what we believe about our creator.
Perhaps it makes no difference,
The state of the mind of the Creator
At the moment of creation.
We say that sometimes.
But I don't know.
I don't know.

Now our nation is locked into a battle with other nations,
Nations from which our forefathers sprang,
Nations that was the birthplace of Abraham,
The bonds-places of Isaiah, and of Ezekiel,
the home of Babylon and its tower.

When Ezekiel and the people were in slavery there,
Two and a half millennia ago
Ezekiel saw the erosion of the faith.
He saw the ritual
That awful ritual,
That defined the lives of the people of Babylon
on the first day of the
New Year on the tower, that awful place,
the ziggurat,
the holy place of the Babylonians.

Thousands of Babylonians sang and chanted
While standing on the steps of the Ziggurat.
Thousands stood waiting, waiting and listening
For the blessing of the Story of Creation,
For the blessing of being Babylonian.

Ezekiel was confounded by what he saw.
He saw that all the youth of Israel were tempted to join the
Babylonians on the slopes of the Ziggurat.
He knew the story that would be told there,
About the creation.

But there would be no Yahweh
No ancient Lord of Israel,
No remembering the faith
of the Wandering Arameans
who left this place fifteen hundred years before.

Ezekiel knew the citizens of Babylon,
And all those who wished to turn their backs
On the faith of their fathers,
the ancient ones,
Would be there to become as one of the Babylonians
By listening to this story.

They would become as one of the Babylonians,
Free to own land,
Free to marry those cute Babylonian girls,
Free to get a loan at the bank,
By going to the Ziggurat on the first day of the New Year,
By listening to the story,
And allowing the drops of ritual blood to fall on them.

When the children of Israel
Stood on the terraces of the Ziggurat,
This is the story they would hear
That would change them from Israelites
To Babylonians.

Let it be its own witness.
Let it reveal to you the truths of Yahweh and the Creation,
Let it reveal by speaking what is not the truth.
Let it speak by its lies and deceits. Hear,
and understand in your heart
the struggle of Ezekiel.

When on High the heavens had not been named,
Before the fog and mist was brought to order,
Before firm ground had been called forth and named,
There were only two--
By name,
Apsu, the sire of all that was to be,
And Mother Tiamat, she who bore all life in her womb.

The fresh waters of Apsu, the begetter,
And the marine waters of Mother Tiamat,
Commingled together as a single body,
There was no separation between them.
There was no firmness anywhere.
There was not so much as marsh land
In the mist that was their being.

Then it happened that the gods were formed within them,
Gods and goddesses were brought forth,
Being named and ordered by Apsu and Mother Tiamat.

The first of them were formed, Anshar and Kishar by name,
Called before all others.
And Anshar and Kishar lived long and well.

Their child was Anu, the equal of Anshar and Kishar,
The equal of all before him.
The Heir-child of Anu was Nudimmud,
Not the equal of his fathers,
But the master of his fathers
And his fathers' fathers.

Nudimmud was one of broad wisdom,
Understanding,
Mighty in strength.
He was mightier by far than his grandfather, Anshar.
Nudimmud had no rival among the other gods, his brothers.

Nudimmud was leader among the gods,
Chief among the pack, chief at the party.
Nudimmud and his brothers ran and shouted back and forth
Among the mists of all that was.
One day they partied and laughed,
On another day they fought and cried the cries of battle.
Every day they were loud,
Strong in their disturbance of Tiamat, the mother god..

By their loudness and their laughter and their youthful cries
They disturbed the mood of Tiamat as they surged
Back and forth, back and forth.

Apsu, the father of their fathers,
Chided them strongly for their loudness.
"Pipe down in there!
Have a little respect for your elders."
Tiamat was beside herself at their ways,
These young gods and goddesses, their seed.
Their actions were loathsome to her.
Unsavory were their ways,
They were overbearing in their manner,
Rebellious children.

Then Apsu called his wizard, saying
"You who makes my spirit sing,
Let us go talk to Tiamat!"
Together they went to the beautiful Tiamat,
The mother of all gods and goddesses.

Apsu spoke words of anger and bitterness.
"I find their ways repugnant and stupid.
There is no relief during the day
And I cannot rest by night.

I will destroy them,
I will wreck their ways
That quiet may be restored.
Let us have rest!" said Apsu.

Hearing this, Tiamat raged at Apsu.
"What is this?
Should we destroy all that we have built?
These are our children!
We will be kind and gentle with them."

Then the wizard spoke to Apsu.
His advice was evil and self-serving.
"Destroy them and their mutinous ways.
Then you will have relief both by day and by night."

And Apsu's face grew red with rage at what he planned
Against his sons and daughters.

Now, whatever Apsu and Tiamat plotted between them
Was repeated to the gods, the children of Apsu and Tiamat.
When the child-gods heard these things,
They became frightened,
Then fell into silence and remained speechless.

But one of the gods, surpassing all others in wisdom,
Experienced in power and in resourcefulness,
His name was Ea,
He saw through their scheme.
Ea designed a master design, bold and daring,
And by his powers set it into the whole scheme of being so That none could set it aside or depart from it.

Ea made Apsu sleep the non-waking sleep,
The sleep of too much wine..
With Apsu asleep, the wizard was unable to stir,
For his being resulted only from the mind of Apsu.
After Ea chained Apsu,
Ea took the crown from the head of Apsu
And placed it on his own head.
He took the cosmic halo
And wrapped it around his own brow.

Having thus bound Apsu,
Ea slew his father's father.

Then there was peace for a time.

Ea and his Bride, Damkina,
Dwelled in peace in the holy house
Built on the rounded belly,
the top of the body of Apsu,
The body on which we stand today.
This body, the Great Height of Babylon.

Now, in this holy house,
The sacred home on the holy hill,
Was created a god,
The most able and wise of the gods.

Marduk was his name.
Nursed by the most becoming of the goddesses,
Marduk was rendered perfect in awesomeness,
Strong in his walk, alluring in his figure,
Sparkling the lift of his eyes.

There was no disfigurement to see or to control him by.
Four were his eyes, four were his ears,
Seeing all things and hearing all things.
When he moved his lips,
Fire blazed forth.

Damkina his mother cried out
"My Son! My Son!
My Son, the Sun of the Heavens!"

The child-gods looked among themselves
For a champion,
A hero to battle the awesome Tiamat, their mother.

And Marduk was named to be King,
Conferred with scepter, throne and robe.
They said to Marduk,
"Go and cut off the life of Tiamat.
Sever her into many pieces!
May the winds bear her parts to places unknown!"

Then Marduk laid his face to disturb Tiamat,
The mother of gods,
To wrest from her the last knot of power.

Marduk called forth the storms to disturb Tiamat,
For the gods have no sleep in the storm.

And the words came to Tiamat,
"Watch what Marduk is doing!
When they slew Apsu, your lover,
You did not aid him but lay still.

Because you lay still, and did not stir,
Your lover Apsu was destroyed.
Now Marduk has brought the mighty storm to disturb you,
And there is no rest.
There is none other. You are left alone.
Let Apsu, your lover, be avenged!"

So Tiamat chose from among her own assembled gods,
Her first-born,
A council for battle, and a leader.
This leader was one Kingu, given all power in council.
"Your command shall be unchangeable,
Your word shall endure."
Tiamat set Kingu up as her son, her heir,
In command of all things.
Kingu began to prepare for battle,
Calling from all the council of Tiamat their advice.

From Mother Hubur, who fashions all things,
Tiamat gathered matchless weapons.
Only Mother Hubur could make them,
These master tools of violence.

Tiamat bore monster-serpents with sharp teeth
And long fangs, filled with venom.
Tiamat clothed roaring dragons with terror,
Making them like gods,
So that all who look upon them will die.
She set up the Viper,
The Dragon,
And the Sphinx.
She called for the Great Lion,
The Mad Dog,
And the Scorpion-man,
The Centaur,
Weapons that spare not.

Thus Tiamat prepared to avenge her lover, Apsu,
To make her own peace by destroying her own children.

And thus it came that the battle to be fought,
Came to be fought between Tiamat, the mother of gods,
And Marduk,
Merodach-bashan, to those who read the Old Testament.
It was a battle long on power and on brutality,
A battle not ever to be matched
among those who survived the first..

Marduk and Tiamat fought with demons and dragons,
Powers and beasts,
With sharp teeth and clashing fang.

With loud roars,
Marduk threw lightning bolts through the skies at Tiamat.
With shrieks of anger,
Tiamat tore at Marduk
With her Scorpion-man
And with her Mad Dog.

Then at last Tiamat opened her mouth with a rage,
To the roots of her legs she shook,
Casting leave of her senses.

Tiamat prepared to consume Marduk,
So wide open was her mouth.

Marduk seized the moment,
The decisive moment of the universe,
Drove the tornado into her mouth
So she could not close it.
Her body was distended by the force of the wind.
He slew her with an arrow formed of the lightning,
A flash of fire, a spear formed of the heat of the sun.

Casting her down.
Marduk slew her there.
Marduk slit her body open as a clamshell,
Half of which he posted as the earth,
Holding the waters of Apsu and Tiamat.
Half the body of Tiamat
Marduk made to be the sky.
Marduk named the years and the days.
Marduk set up the seasons and the constellations.
He set the moon ablaze at night.

And then Marduk announce his grandest plan.
"Blood I will mass, and cause bones to be.
I will establish a savage, Man shall be his name.
He will do the work for the gods,
That the gods will be at ease.
For we are gods, and labor should not be our lot.
But one of the gods must die
That the rest of us might live.

Ea, the father of Marduk, spoke to Marduk,
Pleased by the plan for the relief of the gods.
"Let but one of the gods be handed over.
He alone shall perish that mankind may be fashioned.
Let us call the gods into assembly,
And let the god who is guilty before all be handed over
That the others may endure."

In the assembly, the gods cried out,
“It was not I!
It was Kingu!
It was Kingu who brought the uprising,
Who caused the battle!"

They brought poor Kingu before Ea
Who pronounced the guilt
And the condemnation of Kingu.
They opened his blood vessels
And as his blood fell freely in drops to the earth,
Full of the very passion of the gods,
The vision of the gods for tomorrow,
Full of the power of the gods,
The blood was fashioned into humankind,
By the addition of the ways of death
And uncertain knowledge
And humankind became a reality
For the service of the gods.
For the eternal service of the gods.

And it came to pass that humankind,
To this day,
Is called to serve the gods.

Humankind is named from the blood of Kingu
To plow the fields and irrigate the crops,
To harvest the crops,
To build temples for the glory of the gods,
And to bring to these temples
The best of the produce of the fields
That the gods might be satisfied
And rage and battle no more.

And when the old year and all persons die,
The blood of Kingu will scatter upon the earth,
And you will come again to life
And yet again will the gods be satisfied
By your labors.

And as the priest finished reciting the story of the creation,
He gathered up his container of wine,
Shaking it against the skies,
Letting the drops of blood-red liquid fall among the crowd
Gathered on the slopes of the Tower.
And the drops were brought into new life in the persons on whom they fell,
New life to serve the gods,
The citizenship of the nation,
For the service of the gods.

Let no one assume, now,
That the people of Iraq still share that ancient myth.
Today, even the people of Iraq,
Devout Muslims, many,
Strong in their faith,
Have a creation story that is different--
Quite different--
From the one I have just told you.
They have turned their backs on this old story--
Indeed, most of them abandoned it long ago.

Let us consider the new story they have chosen
To establish the relationship between human beings and god,
The god they know as Allah.

Let me read to you just a bit of this story.

In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth,
And the earth was without form and void, adrift in the mist.
And darkness was upon the face of the deep waters. ......

Sound Familiar? It should.

The Scriptures of Islam and the Scriptures
Of Judaism and Christianity are together
Until we reach the story of Hagar and Ishmael.

Then let me read to you something that is said later.
Coming from the covenant God makes with the People,
Who live out this story of life and covenant.

God loved the people of the world so much
that he gave the life of his only son
That whoever lives and has faith with him
might not perish but have eternal life.

The Brothers

The Brothers

(all rights reserved)

Karl Evans

O Cain. Sad Cain.
Cain who was born first of the brothers.
Cain who knew the blessings of birthright and name.

Now, without doubt,
Cain was a good man.
Hardworking farmer,
Backbreaking labor,
Breaking up the virgin earth to plant seeds and chop weeds and harvest crops.

Not a loud-mouthed braggart as some would suppose,
But a man of steady heart and bronzed arms and dusty hair and tired muscles.

But crops are slow in coming to glory,
Slow to turn the sun and sweat to gold and green.
Except for new potatoes the first fruits of the soil are rarely good,
rarely sweet and choice.
Rather, it is the fruit of the peak of the harvest
That wins the prize at the county fair and turns the mouths of the satisfied to drooling.

But the response one is called to make to the Creator is to bring to the Maker the first fruits.

And Abel. Doomed Abel.
Abel, the second son,
The one with nothing at stake.
The one with no birthright,
No land, no home.

Abel is an exile, One with no fields.
One with no fields becomes a hunter,
A worker with roaming animals, a shepherd by necessity.
Abel wanders with his flock of sheep
And when the sheep brings forth a lamb Abel brings that little bleating, nestling, suckling pile of skin and bones to God as offering.

Have you ever seen a day-old lamb?
Have you ever held one in your arms--
Had it look into your face with innocence and beauty?
Felt its pounding heart against your own?

You know, then, the heart of God.
Who among the loving gods could put the lamb down?
Who could ignore the curly wool,
The wondering eyes,
the warm body--
And turn then to nestling a sheaf of wheat,
an ear of corn,
a box of apples,
a bale of hay?

O Cain, sad Cain.
Your best has been brought side by side with that of baby brother.
Baby brother gets the blue,
You get the red.
Just the red.

No matter, Cain, that you have the name and the birthright
And the fields and the muscles.
No matter that Abel has only a few sheep and a bow and arrow.

Cain, sad Cain,
Your brother has the spotlight,
That which is yours of right.
No matter your crops are growing and yet to come on in beauty.
No matter the hard work ahead that will feed you both through the long cold winter.

No matter Abel is your brother,
Shared the same womb,
Suckled the same breasts.
Your brother dies at your hand,
O Cain, sad Cain.

All is lost.
Now you have no brother, Cain.
More than this,
You have no land, your home
Your firepit shall lie in ruins, sad Cain.

But more!
From the face of God you shall be hidden, Cain,
From seeing the smile,
From hearing the laugh.
And those hands, Cain--
Those hands that formed you from the clay

and laid you in your mother's womb--
You shall not lay into those hands your first-fruits of the ground!

Shall you be forever nothing, sad Cain?
But no!
Sad Cain, I promise 'tis not so!
Though you be adrift from fields of right
The God of Grace goes with you.
As your parents did before you
You have chosen to be cut off, sad Cain,
cut off from the face of God!

But who is that beside you, Cain?
Who is that who reaches out the hand for yours?
By your side moves the face of God,
Beloved Cain;
You shall not be cut off!

And is this not reward enough already,
That God is yet among us?
That added fame and wealth need not be sought,
For God is yet among us?
Bury your face in the shoulder, Cain,
Cry the tears of Joy.
Let your heart beat gently, Cain,
For God is yet among us.