This is one of the more powerful stories of the Hebrew bible. If you haven’t read it in a while submit yourself to it allowing it to become part of you.
Last night, Lynette, Pascal and I attended an artist’s reception for Ed Traub. This Biblical narrative was the muse or goad for part of his work; twelve canvases strewn over the entire wall each cut off from its pair, (the images are not yet up on his site).
Why, when we see the horror of narratives like this, or when we hear echoes of these narratives in our own lives do we continue offer up the other and sharpen our saws?
Thank you; storytellers, poets, painters and all those who hold up mirrors.
peace, dwight
judges 19 & 20
