Way Back in the Long Ago

Way back in the long ago, the maker spoke, and light exploded across the darkness.
Energy radiated across the nothing.

Time and space and order appeared from the nothing of the long ago.

Bits of energy shot like shrapnel from a bomb into the grid that was created by the ordering of the nothing. Bits of energy bonded with other bits to become great lumps that went spinning across the grid.

Their spinning caused these lumps to become spherical.

Some of the spheres were made of gasses; ice giants and dwarfs, gas giants and dwarfs, and suns of every size and temperature were created by the energy within them.

Others of those spheres became great rocks.

Oxygen bonded to hydrogen so that water splashed in the hollows of those rocks.

The maker smiled.

Algae and moss and grass and trees emerged, and the maker smiled again.

Winged creatures darted through the air and swimming creatures darted through the sea, and the maker smiled again.

And then creatures appeared on the rock itself. Creatures appeared on the land.

The maker looked at us and decided to make us into little makers with the power to choose whatever we would choose. We have the authority to say “yes,” and the authority to say “no,” as we stare into the eyes of the maker.

The maker gave us this watery rock we live upon, and complete authority over it.

We have the freedom to be guided by our choices. We are no longer the captives of our instincts.

The maker is not held captive by time and space. The maker created time and space from the nothing.

It is only we – you and me – who measure time and space.

Our history of deciding for ourselves and living with the consequences has not been a good history.

Seven billion of us are crammed onto a rock that circles an 11,000-degree fireball as it shoots through the nothing… at 52 times the speed of a rifle bullet.

We are passengers on a world spinning out of control.

Having wrongly been told that the maker is in control, we blame the maker for every sadness.

You can’t have it both ways. You can’t have both free will and a benevolent higher power who protects you from yourself.

You are the motherfather of what you say. Your words go out from you and reveal you.

This is because you are an echo of the maker.

Way back in the long ago, the maker spoke worlds into existence.

We can do it, too.

You and I speak a world into existence every time we tell a story.

People tell stories with words and music and photographs and paintings and sculptures and drawings and cartoons and movies and every type of social media.

You create a world in the hearts and minds of the people into whose lives you speak.

Into whose lives are you speaking?

Who are you allowing to speak into your life?

Way back in the long ago, a man killed another man with a rock.

The dead man’s name was Austral.

Austral’s manbrother killed him with a rock just as a person might kill an animal with a rock.

Animals were everywhere and rocks were everywhere. Killing animals was easy. The hard part was biting through the fur, the feathers, and the tough skin to get to the meat inside.

On a different day in the long ago, a snake raised its head to show a man its fangs. The man threw a rock onto the head of the snake. That man’s name was Habilis.

Habilis was his name.

A rockflake split off from the rock as it crushed the snake on the rocks below.

The rockflake was smaller than the hand of Habilis.

The rockflake sliced his finger when he picked it up.

He looked at his finger, then he looked at the flake. He did this again and again.

And then he raised his eyebrows.

Grasping the flat sides of the rockflake between his thumb and bloody finger, Habilis sliced open the snake, pulled the skin away from the meat and flung the entrails to some birds that had been watching from a distance.

When Habilis returned to the group with the snakeskin tied around his forehead and the sharp rockflake held between his bloody fingers, the people treated him with respect.

They treated him with respect.

In the not-so-very long ago – only about three-and-a-half thousand years behind us – the maker chose a man with whom to make a mirror-agreement.

The maker remembered giving the littlemakers the rock they lived upon, and the authority to rule that rock however they chose.

The littlemakers made terrible choices, then blamed the maker for everything that went wrong.

The maker had given the littlemakers complete authority.

The maker was trapped on the outside, looking in.

The maker came up with a plan, but his plan would require a rockborn partner who was willing to make a mirror agreement.

If the partner of the maker honored that mirror, the maker would be free to rescue all the littlemakers from their rock that was now spinning out of control.

There were a thousand ways in which the maker’s plan could go wrong.

The maker chose Aba Gvoha to be his mirror-partner. “I will give you what you need from me,” said the maker, “and you will give me what I need from you.”

Aba Gvoha repeated the words of the mirror-agreement. “I will give you what you need from me,” said Aba Gvoha, “and you will give me what I need from you.”

Aba Gvoha then sealed their mirror agreement by slicing himself with a knife in the last place that any man would ever want to be sliced.

Aba Gvoha believed the pain of that cut was the most terrible pain that any man could feel.

But Aba Gvoha was wrong.

Aba Gvoha was old, and his wife was old.

He said to the maker, “My wife and I have no child. A stranger will inherit everything that we own.”
The maker said to Aba Gvoha, “A son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.”

Aba Gvoha silently wondered how such a thing could happen. Aba Gvoha wondered how it could.

The maker said, “Aba Gvoha, look upwards into the darkness and count the stars. This will be the number of your children’s children.”

Aba Gvoha believed what the maker said to him. This is what made Aba Gvoha special.

A day was coming when the life of every person in the 3-part harmony of the past, the present, and the future, would be balanced on the sharp peak of a mountain, on a rock that circles a fireball as it shoots through the nothing.

On that day, in the greatest of all Kairos moments, the maker would ask his mirror-partner to make a cut so painful that it would send both of them into the black-black darkness.

When the son of Aba Gvoha had grown to become a fine young man, the maker said to Aba Gvoha, his mirror-partner, “I need you to take your son to a mountain that I will show you.”

Aba Gvoha loaded his donkey in the darkness, then woke his son and told him that his mirror-partner required him to kill a lamb on the mountain.

And the mountain was a journey of three days.

At the end of the third day, Aba Gvoha saw the silhouette of that mountain in the twilight.

His son also saw the silhouette and asked, “Where is the lamb that we will slay on the mountain?”

Aba Gvoha answered, “The maker will provide the sacrifice.” But did not understand the three levels of truth that he was speaking.

Being a captive of time, Aba Gvoha could not hear the 3-part harmony of the past, the present, and the future as they sang together.

When Aba Gvoha and his son had climbed the mountain together and the kairos moment was upon them, the maker told Aba Gvoha to kill his son.

The maker told Aba Gvoha to kill his son.

The maker told Aba Gvoha to kill his son with the knife that he had used to cut himself on the day they made their mirror-agreement.

The black-black storm of despair swirled behind the eyes of Aba Gvoha as he pulled the knife from his belt and raised it high above his head. The scream from his soul made no sound that could be heard, but it disappeared the sun, the moon, and all the stars.

The knife of Aba Gvoha moved like a flash of lightning.

The knife of Aba Gvoha moved like a flash of lightning, but the hand of the maker outran the lightning.

The knife of Aba Gvoha had moved only as far as the distance between two knuckles before it could no longer move.

The knife above his head would not move.

Aba Gvoha tried to pull the knife down from above his head, but it would not come down. He pulled so hard that he lifted his feet off the ground.

Aba Gvoha let go of the knife and dropped onto the stone below him. When the tears of his sobbing had made a puddle on the stone, Aba Gvoha stood to his feet and wiped his eyes and said “Thank you” to his mirror-partner.

He said “Thank You” to his mirror-partner.

The knife dropped out of the air into the puddle of tears where it disappeared.

The maker told Aba Gvoha, “Because you have done this thing, every person born in this world will receive a gift more wonderful than words can tell.”

When the authority of the rockborn passed from Aba Gvoha to the maker, the bright light of that transfer revealed to Aba Gvoha a young male lamb whose horns had been caught in a thicket. 

In that same flash of light, the maker saw the first half of the mirror-promise completed.

Now it was the maker’s turn to complete the other half of the mirror-promise.

The maker said to Aba Gvoha, “Because you have done this thing, every person born on this rock will receive a gift more wonderful than words.”

Aba Gvoha and his son took the young male lamb and killed it there on the mountain.

They killed a young male lamb there on the mountain.

They killed the lamb on the mountain.

Four hundred years after Aba Gvoha and his son killed the lamb on the mountain, a floating slave baby was lifted out of the water by the daughter of a king. She gave the slave baby fancy clothes, a fine education, and great wealth.

That slave baby’s name was Chutch Mim.

His name was Chutch Mim.

When he was 40, Chutch Mim ran away from the palace of the king to become a shepherd in the wilderness far away.

When he was 80, the maker told Chutch Mim to return to the palace of the king, gather up the slaves who were being held captive there, and lead them all to the beautiful land that the maker had given to Aba Gvoha, his mirror partner, 400 years ago.

But the king in the palace did not want to give up his slaves.

And the king in the palace had an army.

The maker told Chutch Mim, the shepherd, that each slave family must kill their finest lamb, then splash the blood of that lamb onto the left and right door posts of their home.

Each splash would be just above the height of a man’s shoulder.
The third splash would be in the middle of the doorframe, above the door, where it would drip down to the ground below.

The family was then to cook the lamb and eat it with bread that had been made without yeast.

The bread was to be without yeast.

The Bread of Escape was to have no yeast.

None of this made any sense to Chutch Mim, but he always said exactly what the maker told him to say.

Chutch Mim shouted that every person who had those blood stains on their doorframes would be free to leave the next morning.

He shouted a second time that every person who had those blood stains on their doorframes would be free to leave the next morning.

And then he shouted a third time, “Every person who has those blood stains on their doorframes will be free to leave at sunrise.”

It would be their Day of Escape.

A door dripping with blood would be their door of escape.

When the sun opened a sleepy eyelid and the first arrow of sunlight shot over the horizon, it revealed 200,000 slave families walking out of their homes and into the desert.

They walked by faith into the desert.

Walking through the desert is like walking through the desert.
It’s not nearly as much fun as you thought it would be.

And you didn’t think it would be any fun at all.

Chutch Mim was told to write down everything because this journey was symbolic.

People would speak of this journey for thousands of years.
The Day of Escape. And wandering in the wilderness.

Chutch Mim and the captives were in the plains of Moab when the king of that place tried to destroy them. The King of Moab heard of a man with spiritual power. And he hired that man to put a curse on the captives.

The King wanted to put powerful curses on the captives.

The man with the spiritual power came, but he could not speak a word of evil.

The powerful man of curses fell in love with the people. He shouted, “The Father of these people has a mirror partner, and you cannot stand against him.”

“I see a star in the sky,
a star in the sky,
a star in the sky.”

“The mirror partner is coming. And he shall be the king of every king.”

Chutch Mim, the shepherd, spent the last of his life leading those captives to the land that the maker had prepared for them.

The land of Aba Gvoha.

But Chutch Mim died just as they entered that land. The maker buried him in the same place that he had hidden the knife of Aba Gvoha.

The knife of Aba Gvoha.

Four hundred years later, a teenage boy was living happily in the land that the maker had given to his ancestor, Aba Gvoha.

The name of the boy was Zorek Avnim. He was slender and tough and narrow, like a rope made of smokeweed.

His brothers laughed at his narrow body and said that he could hide behind a sycamore fig tree that was too young to bear any fruit.

Zorek Avnim had seven older brothers, but one of those brothers had no name.

The family of Zorek Avnim had been the protectors of the sheep of the Migdal Eder for 400 years. Each of Zorek Avnim’s older brothers had served as the watchman of the tower until the next of the brothers turned fourteen.

Nobody wanted the job. Nobody really wanted it.

So it was perfect for Zorek Avnim because Zorek Avnim was Nobody.

Zorek Avnim knew that sheep were not strong, not smart, and often made bad decisions.

Sheep needed a protector who loved them in spite of their weakness and their foolishness.

Watching Zorek Avnim place a smooth river-rock into the center crease of a long, leather strap was like watching a soldier put a bullet into a rifle.

The boundaries of his pasture were marked with the carcasses of dead lions.

The Migdal Eder was an 800-year-old watchtower that had been built from the stones of the pasture during the days of Aba Gvoha.

Standing on top of the flat roof of the Migdal Eder, Zorek Avnim could watch his sheep by the light of the moon. Beneath that flat roof was the room where the lambs were born.

The lambs of the Migdal Eder were the lambs of The Day of Escape.

When Zorek Avnim was 17 years old and the sun had risen and the lions were dead, he walked into the cool shade inside the Migdal Eder. He needed to get some sleep.

He walked into the Migdal Eder to get some sleep.

Three hours later, when the darkness of sleep was deep upon him, Zorek Avnim leaped to his feet knowing that he must run to the Valley of Shadow, fifteen miles away.

Zorek Avnim took a deep breath.

He lifted his chin and closed his eyes and asked the maker to protect his lambs while he was away. Two hours later, Zorek Avnim stood at the rim of the Valley of Shadow and saw the army of his people on the hillside below him.

Across the valley was the army of their enemy.

In the bottom of that valley stood a monster man whose arms were longer and thicker than the whole body of Zorek Avnim.

If Zorek were standing in front of him, his head would reach only to the bottom of the monster man’s rib cage.

The shouts of the monster man echoed back and forth between the hillsides.

He laughed and cursed the people of Aba Gvoha.

He screamed and said their maker had dropped them into the dirt like a pig drops a pie.

A smelly pie.

Then the monster man got down on his knees and began begging for someone among the people of Aba Gvoha to come down into that valley and kill him.

And each time he did this, the Valley of Shadow would echo with laughter as the descendents of Aba Gvoha stood motionless and afraid.

No one noticed narrow Zorek Avnim as he walked down to the babbling brook at the bottom of the hillside.

He drank a little of the cold, clear water, then selected five smooth stones from the bottom of the brook.

He selected five smooth stones from the brook.

He removed his leather strap from the pouch on his belt and placed four smooth stones where the strap had been. He placed the fifth stone into the center crease of the long leather strap.

Zorek Avnim began to swing the strap in a circle as he walked toward the monster man.

The monster man saw a narrow boy walking toward him swinging a leather strap above his head.

A narrow boy swinging a leather strap.

The monster man stood up to his full height and began to laugh.

The whirling strap of Zorek Avnim began to sing in the air.

The monster man turned sideways so that he could look at his laughing army while he pointed at Zorek Avnim.

The strap was now singing a note so high that dogs began howling in the distance.

When the monster man turned back to face Zorek Avnim, a deep red spot appeared on his forehead and the back of his skull exploded.

A red spot appeared on his forehead and the back of his skull exploded.

The enemy army began to run in panic when they saw the monster-man lying dead in a pool of blood at the feet of a narrow boy holding nothing but a leather strap. In the general chaos that followed, Zorek Avnim slipped away.

As he hurried back to his lambs, he thought of Aba Gvoha.

Zorek Avnim thought of Aba Gvoha.

Then he thought of the shepherd Chutch Mim, and how Chutch Mim had led his people across the desert.

He thought of the proud lions that lay dead on the borders of his pasture.

He thought of shepherds. He thought of lions.

Back in the quiet solitude of the Migdal Eder, he began to write down his thoughts:

The maker is my shepherd.
We walk through the greenest pastures;
together we walk beside the clear waters.
I lie down without fear
because my shepherd watches over me.
I walked deep into the Valley
and saw the shadow of Death,
but I was not afraid, because
everything that casts a shadow
has a bright light shining behind it.
The maker is that bright light,
The maker is my shepherd
who protects me.
When I see the shadows
of my enemies, I know that
my shepherd is behind them
and will strike them down
if they move to hurt me.
No matter what happens
to my body, I will live forever
in the hand of my shepherd.

Years after he slipped away from the valley of Shadow, back in the quiet solitude of the Migdal Eder, Zorek Avnim looked up and saw four friends approaching.

He had known for many years that these four would show up one day.

Evidently, this was the day.

He greeted them by name as they approached him.

“Elhanan!”
“Sibbecai!”
“Jonathan, son of my brother Shimeah!”
“Abishai, son of my sister Zeruiah!”

“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to the Migdal Eder!”
“Did you bring any leather straps?”

The four young men stopped and looked at each other with eyes that were full of questions. They looked at Zorek Avnim with eyes that were full of wonder.

Then they nodded their heads slowly as they reached into the pouches that were on their belts.

Each man pulled out a long leather strap.

Zorek Avnim showed them how to make the center crease.
Then he showed them how to swing and release.

The four young men came each day for many months.

When the day came that each of them could split a rock that was the size of a man’s fist and do it 20 times out of 20 from 200 paces away, Zorek Avnim took them up on the roof of the Migdal Eder.

He took them up on the roof in the moonlight.

Zorek Avnim reached into his pouch and pulled out the four remaining stones he had lifted from the brook at the bottom of the Valley of Shadow.

He took out the four remaining stones.

He said to the four young men, “The monster man that wanted to kill everyone in the Valley of Shadow had four younger brothers who grew up to be just as big.”

The monster man had four younger brothers who grew up to be just as big.

They grew up to be just as big.

He handed the light brown stone with dark brown speckles to Elhanan and said,
“Keep this stone with you always, Elhanan.
When Lahmi tries to kill you, you will kill him with this stone.”

He handed the dull yellow stone to Sibbecai and said,
“Keep this stone with you always, Sibbecai.
When Saph tries to kill you, you will kill him with this stone.”

He handed the dark grey stone to Jonathan and said,
“Keep this stone with you always, Jonathan.
When the monster-man with 6 toes on each foot and 6 fingers on each hand tries
to kill you, you will kill him with this stone. You will kill all 12 of his murderous fingers.You will kill all 12 of his murderous toes.
You will kill him with this dark grey stone.”

Then he handed the snow-white stone to Abishai and said,
“Keep this stone with you always, Abishai.
When Ishbi-benob is about to kill me,
you will kill him with this stone.”

His face full of panic, Abishai leaped to his feet and asked,
“How will I know where to be?
And when will I know to be there?”

“You will be there, Abishai.
Never give it another thought.
Just keep the stone with you.”

Zorek Avnim hugged each of the other men.

In the months that followed, Lahmi and Saph and their six-toed brother and Ishbi-benob who – the biggest and the angriest of the monster-men – each fell to the ground with a deep red spot on their head.

They had a dark red spot on their head.

They had dark red spots, and their skulls exploded.

And the land was quiet for awhile.

Way back in the long ago, the maker spoke, and light exploded across the darkness.

The maker spoke, and what he spoke was alive.

We speak by creating vibrations in the air, but the maker’s voice is alive.

Ushaa Shialom is the living voice of the maker.

The maker had power to speak our universe into being, but he had no authority on our rock,
because he had given our rock to us, the rockborn.

He gave authority over the rock to the rockborn.

Ushaa Shialom had authority because he was rockborn.
He was rockborn.

Ushaa Shialom was rockborn inside the Migdal Eder.

This is how it happened:

One thousand years after Zorek Avnim walked into the Valley of Shadow with a leather strap and 5 smooth stones, the maker spoke to a young woman named Ama Tala and his living voice echoed within her.

The living voice of the maker echoed in Ama Tala.

Nine months later, when she was far from home, her Kairos moment occurred. The only shelter that Ama Tala could find was inside the Migdal Eder.

Ushaa Shialom was born inside the Migdal Eder. The shepherds of the lambs were told about baby Ushaa Shialom.

They were the first to see him.

The maker watched over their lambs so that the shepherds could go and see him…

Ushaa Shialom.

In the same moment that the shepherds of the Migdal Eder were told about Ushaa Shialom,

A new star appeared in the sky.
A new star appeared in the sky.
A new star appeared in the sky.

Seven hundred miles away in a tall tower in Babylon, astronomers saw the star and rejoiced. They had been waiting to see that star for five hundred years.

The astronomers packed their clothes and grabbed some food and
gathered their things and rode their horses seven hundred miles.

And all along the way, they spoke every day of what Belteshazzar said
five hundred years ago.

“What did he say? Oh, what did he say?”

Belteshazzar said that when the King of every King was born, a new star would appear in the sky. “And be sure to follow that star, so that you can meet him.”

Seven hundred miles later, the astronomers from the tall tower in Babylon
arrived at the home of little Ushaa Shialom.

They spoke with Ama Tala, and gave baby Ushaa Shialom, gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Gold is the gift for a king.
Frankincense is an offering to the maker.
And myrrh was used to prepare the bodies of the dead for burial.

The astronomers waited five hundred years and rode seven hundred miles
to meet a king,
who was the maker,
and was going to die.

He was going to die.

On the night before he fulfilled the mirror promise,
Ushaa Shialom hosted a farewell dinner for his friends.

They were eating the meal Chutch Mim told the captives to eat
when they were preparing for the Day of Escape.

They talked of many things as they drank the red wine
and ate the bread made without yeast.

They drank the red wine and ate the bread made without yeast.

“What is the meaning of this wine” they asked,
“What is the meaning of this wine?

Ushaa Shialom told his friends,
“This is the blood of the mirror promise.
This is the blood of the final lamb to die;
the lamb that Aba Gvoah told his son that the maker would provide.

This is blood of the Lamb of Escape that Aba Gvoha told his son the maker would provide.

“What is the meaning of this bread?” they asked,
“What is the meaning of this bread?

Usha Shialom said, “This is the bread of Good News. This is the bread of The Good News that the maker has fulfilled the mirror promise and guaranteed your escape.”

The maker has guaranteed your escape.

“But why do we leave out the yeast?” they asked,
“Why do we leave out the yeast when we make the bread?
Why do we make sure there is no yeast in the bread of the Good News?”

This is the bread of Good News.
This is the bread of what the maker said.
This is the bread of the maker’s living voice, his living voice.

The yeast is the traditions of men.
The yeast is the personal beliefs of men.
The yeast is what a man would do if he was the maker.

The yeast is what men will tell you the maker said,
that the maker never said.

Ushaa Shialom said, “Beware the yeast, beware the yeast, beware the yeast!”
There is great danger in the yeast! Even the tiniest bit you choose will ruin the Good News.”

“Even the tiniest bit you choose will ruin the Good News.”

And then they asked him the meaning of the blood on the doorposts, the blood that was splashed left and right, just above the height of a man’s shoulders.

And then they asked him the meaning of the blood on the doorposts, the blood that was splashed above the head, where it dripped upon the ground.

When they asked Usha Shialom about the blood, he said,
“I will show you.”

The friends of Ushaa Shialom said this when he came home:

“You cannot be here,” they said. “We saw you die. We know that you are dead.”

Ushaa Shialom smiled at them and shook his head.
Ushaa Shialom smiled, turned his palms upward and said,
“Why do you look so surprised? Didn’t I tell you I would rise?
Why do you look so surprised? Didn’t I tell you I would rise?

I am the door of the sheep and the bridge to the maker.”

He said, “Do you know what you need to do?”

They shouted, “We will go and tell the good news!

Ushaa Shialom said, “Tell them Ollie-Ollie-All-in-Free” to everyone who believes in me.
“Ollie-Ollie-All-in-Free to everyone who believes in me.”

Then Ushaa Shialom said, “Tell me the dangers of the yeast.
There is poison, poison in the yeast.”

They said, “The yeast is the traditions of men.”

Leave it out!

“The yeast is the personal beliefs of men.”

Leave it out!

They said, “The yeast is the politics of men.”

Leave it out!

“The yeast is what men will tell you the maker said,
that the maker never said.”

Don’t listen!

“Those men are saying things they should not say,” Ushaa Shialom said, “There is danger in the yeast. Even the tiniest bit you choose will ruin the good news.”

And then Ushaa Shialom said quietly,
“Ollie, Ollie, All in Free… Ollie, Ollie, All in Free… Ollie, Ollie, All in Free.”

And then his friends shouted happily,
“Ollie, Ollie, All in Free!” …”Ollie, Ollie, All in Free!” … “Ollie, Ollie, All in Freeeee!”
Amen … Amen… Amen.

Ushaa Shialom said, “I go to prepare a place for you. That where I am, you might be, too. In my father’s house are many bedrooms. If it were not so. I would have told you.”

“Eyes cannot see, and your mind cannot imagine all the things that we will do. We’ll have adventures and build things and mealtimes will be glorious. Tell them the Good News, “Ollie Ollie All-in-Free.”

They asked, “How soon will you come and get us? How soon will you come for us?”

“First, you’ve got to tell everyone the Good News that they are invited, too.”

“How will we know when it is time to go?”

“You will hear a Trumpet! You will hear the Trumpet of the Maker! The skies will open,
and every eye will look up. And you will have your own bedroom. And you will see and do things that you never thought you would do.

And the Friends of Ushaa Shialom said, “Let it be as you have spoken!”

And Ushaa Shialom said, “You are the sheep, and this is the sheep pen. And I am the Door of the Sheep. This is the rock that we were given, and I’m the rockborn son of the Maker.
The maker was on the outside looking in. But I am the bridge back to the maker.
I am the door of the sheep, and the bridge back to the maker. And everyone will have
their own bedroom.”

And the Friends of Ushaa Shialom said, “Let it be as you have spoken!

And Ushaa Shialom said, “I am the bread of the Good News,and the Living Voice of the maker. It will be as I have spoken. Go, tell them the Good News.”

And the Friends of Ushaa Shialom said, “It will be as you have spoken.
It will be as you have spoken. It will be as you have spoken.”

“Amen.”
“Amen.”
Amen.