Campfire contentment
Genesis 14:15-20
After his return from the defeat of Chedorlaomer and the kings who were with him, the king of Sodom went out to meet him at the Valley of Shaveh (that is, the King's Valley). And King Melchizedek of Salem brought out bread and wine; he was priest of God Most High. He blessed him and said, "Blessed be Abram by God Most High, maker of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, who has delivered your enemies into your hand!" And Abram gave him one-tenth of everything.
This is an obscure little incident over which gallons of ink have been spilled because the author of Hebrews used it to establish a priestly king succession for Jesus. Or, since I may have betrayed too liberal a turn of mind in that sentence, because God used it to establish a priestly king succession for Jesus and the author of Hebrews explained it to us.
As we try this week to find ourselves moments of peace and contentment in our faith, campfire contentment was the commission for writing this week, dare I suggest that too much overthinking this little incident has been going on. Here is Abram who has rescued his nephew Lot in a night raid in what was presumably deadly hand to hand fighting by his nomad tribesmen.
And then appears someone with bread and wine, basics of sustenance, who comes also as a mystic divine: a man who is devoted to God, whose spirit has been touched by God and who serves him in ways we do not know outside the narrow terms of the Abram narrative.
Perhaps the lesson here is just, accept the bread and wine, accept the presence, and allow yourself to be ministered to? If we wrote that story for a children’s bible it would say, “A kind man who loved God called Melchizedek brought Abram some food and drink.” We open ourselves up to contentment more when that is enough for us.
Gracious God
Free us from the racing mind
The analysis of intellect
The pursuit of an elusive disputed truth
When the bigger truth stands to confront us.
Allow us to delve into your rich provision
Without concerning ourselves
With what we might be missing
Content us to see through a glass darkly
In the shadow of your outreaching embrace.
Amen
Login to comment.