Chapter Eighteen: BLOOD

Dave Wilcox

Chapter Eighteen: BLOOD

Glistening bodies draw attention. Women radiate positivity as they dance around the altar. Then the men come out and celebrate the human spirit with competitions. Darkness falls, torches are placed, and the great fire of the altar casts a magical glow over the whole scene.

The competitions are without question the most amazing things eye has ever seen.

Aggressive men fight against equally aggressive men, submissive women surround them, as the sensual display satisfies their need for violence, but it stops short of bloodshed. Humans press against one another, some leap to super-human heights.

Many wonder,

‘Could mere men push themselves to these outer limits of incredible performance?’

Orna and Nokh see much more than the physical performance. The whole festival takes on a spiritual dimension of power, superiority, control, and worship of God’s creation.

This display along with human intelligence, even ingenuity, defies understanding. Who could imagine that anyone could conceive these things?

‘Beautiful!’

‘Awesome!’

‘Unbelievable!’

Are words people use to describe this amazing spectacle.

Music ceases! Everyone falls to the ground in heaps of hugging, human clumps.

The lamb comes!

Voluntarily!

Almost supernaturally!

Silence!

No one will break it. No child cries out. A holy hush falls upon the meadow as if one is standing alone in the middle of tall fir trees on a perfect day.

‘God is in this very place!’

‘Is he pleased?’

Nokh is not convinced. He seeks truth.

‘This is powerful, but is it what God wants of his people?’

Orna has happy thoughts.

‘What leaped in my womb? I feel life! I have not spoken of my suspicion to my husband Nokh, now I know; God has given us another child.’

Because she believes, there is no doubt. God designed woman. Life begins at the moment of conception.

The word of God teaches that he rested when he finished six days of work and declared,

‘Everything is very good.’

The old message never grows old for those who walk with God. She rejoices. Nokh’s seed had joined with her seed, life began, her blood flowed to this brand new person.

Orna always has difficulty in birthing. She does not question God’s plan. God said,

‘Fill the earth.’

She obeys explicitly, in spite of her intense pain.

Drums start slowly with a measured, reverent echo from many sides of the gathering place. Then the fathers, seven of them, step forward with knives and darts in their hands. Enoch gasps,

‘I made some of those darts!’

The lamb moves to the foot of the altar; it is so much larger than any they had ever built before. Steps surround it. A fire as large as a full-grown man rises majestically like a crown of glory.

One of their own daughters comes close to their ears and quietly mouths,

‘This has to be the best worship of the Lord I have ever experienced.’

Orna smiled at Nokh with awestruck eyes and replies,

‘Thank you for allowing us to come.’

Then blood spills out; splatters down the sides of the sacrificial altar. Men come close. They smear red on arms, legs, and chest.

Athletes who amazed the participants earlier enter; each with a dart in his hand. Carefully, but intentionally, they cut into their own flesh.

Blood oozes out. They mix their blood with blood from the lamb laying lifelessly at the foot of the altar. One lifts the lamb high over his head. The drums reach a crescendo, the flames flare up, worshipers fall to the ground.

Everyone embraces. They offer themselves with raised hands to the fathers and athletes; this is part of the sacrifice. They have been assured that this pleases God.

Enoch’s family quietly walks toward their home. Darkness hides their features. Enoch’s oldest son asks.

‘Was one of the dancers Haran’s son?’

Another answers,

‘Yes, your cousin is as talented as the sons of God.’

Nothing more is said about the sacrifice until they are alone. Just Orna and Enoch. She decides to hold her announcement to herself till a more opportune time.

Enoch finally says, with tears in his eyes,

‘Isn’t the blood of the lamb enough?’

It is the last thing they say that night.

Chapter Nineteen ✔