Part 12: God gets worried

So God was at a party, with the rest of the most high, and Jesus, and even Gabriel and Michael.  They were all seated, and the banter was light, as gods try not to pick fights outside of Valhalla, where, as you know, fights are compulsory.  Parties of the most high are pretty much what you'd expect when you hear the word 'cotillion', which you would probably have to look up, as did I.  Anyway, there was lots of stiff handshakes, stiff walking about and stiff dancing to dusty tunes played stiffly by a stiffly starched orchestra led by a literal stiff.  Beethoven was the conductor of this orchestra, having bartered his way into heaven by agreeing to do this sort of thing.  He was coming to regret his decision, partly because he was no longer deaf and could actually hear his music.


Right now, of course, everyone was seated in preparation for the dinner.  A feast would be something at which gustatory wants were sated, but a dinner is a functional thing to fill one's stomach, and, more importantly, to fill someone else's mind with important ideas, properly nuanced, about the way things should be.

Most of the most high didn't eat much anyway, being ancient and all, which is why Jehovah had managed to get the fare changed from the standard gluttonous revelry to a more staid spread.  He had also managed to require the use of silverware.  With quiet, composed music in the background and the gentle clink of silverware, conversation could flow easily, and, certainly, at some point, would, if all the diners ever became comfortable in Jehovah's presence.

After a few minutes, after everyone was well tucked into the main course, Jehovah stood himself up and tinkled his fork against his glass.  Then he had to fend off an angel who thought he wanted it refilled.

“Erm, everyone, your attention please.  This isn't just a social meeting.  I invited everyone here for a reason.  You are my most trusted advisors, part of my inner council, as it were.  I'm at a dilemma, of sorts.  I really don't know for sure if Abraham actually is loyal to me or simply goes along because of what I've done for him.”

“To him, more likely,” Jesus muttered under his breath.  Elder gods tittered.

Jehovah shot him a stern look.  “So, I'd like to get some ideas on how to find out if he's loyal.”

Jehovah looked expectantly around the crowd.  He always ended up like this, expecting those who were closest to him to get behind him, to energize themselves, spitballing ideas, putting in the effort and really trying, but about a third of them continued to shovel food into their mouths, a third of them was already asleep, darn the elder gods anyways, and a third of them were, frankly, too stupid for words.

So, nobody.  No hands raised, no ideas flowing, no energy, nothing.  Well, Jesus had mumbled something, although it sounded like a snarky comment: “Well, it'll be a test you'll be wanting then.”  Then Jesus rolled his eyes and said something that sounded like 'duh'.

Jehovah rounded on Jesus and said, “If you're so smart, how would you test him?”

“Um, just noodling here,” Jesus said in a mocking tone, “but why not make him sacrifice something he really, really likes?  Isn't that the go-to move around here?”  Jesus resumed picking at his food.

“Hmm.  I could make him sacrifice something he really, really likes.  I'll do that.  Gabriel, go tell Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac!  Nevermind, I will do it myself!”

Startled, Jesus looked up and said, “Wait, what?” but Jehovah had already strode purposefully out of the room.

Jesus disentangled himself from the table and ran after Jehovah, but could not keep up.  While Jesus was chasing him, Jehovah found Abraham sitting under his shade tree outside his tent.

“Abraham,” god called.

“Behold, here I am,” Abraham replied, the code words having been set so that Abraham would know it was god, given his poor eyesight and god would know it was Abraham, given that the humans were all starting to look a bit alike.

“Go get your son Isaac and take him to Moriah and offer him as a burnt offering on the mountain I point out to you.”

“Wait, what?” Abraham said, but Jehovah had left.  With nothing left to do but obey, given that unbecoming the chosen one was not possible, Abraham saddled his ass up and set it on a donkey, heading out for Moriah.  Then, realizing he had forgotten his son, he went back and got the boy and some wood for the fire.

Abraham rode off, sad.  His son, worried rather constantly about his father's health, kept asking what was up, telling little jokes to lift his father's spirits and asking about the missing sacrifice.  If the jokes were working at all, the questions about the sacrifice ruined it.

Abraham just kept saying, “God will provide a sacrifice.”

Finally, Isaac stopped asking questions and settled down to hum to himself fairly tunelessly.

They went on like this for some time, the exact amount being lost, having not been recorded, until they arrived at the appointed mountain.  Exactly how Abraham knew this was the right one is not known.  The whole time, Jehovah had been following along while Jesus frantically tried to find them.

Finally, Abraham was forced to explain to his son that he was to be the sacrifice.  Given Abraham's age at this point, Isaac, out of fondness for his father, helped tie himself up.  Isaac is the kind of good boy we normally only see on fifties sitcoms.

And Isaac climbed onto the wood on the altar that he had helped stack.  He waited patiently while Abraham, shaking violently, raised his knife to commit the deed.

Finally, flustered and out of breath, Jesus burst on the scene.  “Stop!” he yelled.

“What?” Abraham said, turning slowly towards the direction of the sound.

“What?” god yelled.  “Why make him stop?  He was about to prove his loyalty!”

“He was about to violate PROPHECY!” Jesus fairly bellowed.  I should point out that gods can stop mortals from listening to them if they want to, and, after the first 'Stop', Abraham had heard nothing and just sort of stood there, confused.

“What prophecy?” god said.

“You're so thick!  Your prophecy that the kid about to be roasted is the child of promise!  What cock and bull story are you going to concoct to get out of this one?” Jesus was nearly beside himself at this point, something a god can actually do, standing with a corporeal entity on one side and a spiritual entity on the other.

“Oh, yeah,” god said, with a bit of chagrin.  Pitching his voice to Abraham, he said, “You, er, pass the test.  There's a ram over there in a thicket, go get that and sacrifice it.”  The ram was nonplussed.

After the sacrifice, god decided that he'd better sort of patch things over with Abraham, so, while Jesus was off to tell the devil the whole story, have a good laugh and some beers (beer was just recently invented and gaining in popularity), god went back down to Abraham.

“Abraham, you will be the father of many, like the sands of the seas, like a great nation, because you have shown me your loyalty.”

Abraham, as usual, was tuning out the ongoing promises, pretty much certain he knew the whole spiel, until he heard the last bit, at which point he wondered why, if he'd already been promised, like, a hundred times, that he'd be the patriarch, was this last promise contingent on his having passed some stupid loyalty test, but Abraham knew better than to question god, so kept his peace.