There's one thing I'm starting to realize about the Old Testament: It's an underrated beach read. Next time you soak in some rays, crack open the Bible and enjoy stories about love, loyalty, rape, murder, dismemberment, human sacrifice, God trying to kill Moses because his son isn't circumcised ... the list goes on.
This week we're taking it back to Genesis 22. God calls out to Abraham: "Abraham!" Then Abraham: "Yes, what's up?" And then God says to take Isaac, Abraham's only son, to a mountain and sacrifice him as a burnt offering as a test of Abraham's loyalty.
Now any half-decent father would say, "Absolutely not," but Abraham's so devoted to God he agrees and doesn't question it at all.
So Abraham loads up the donkey and heads to the mountain with Isaac and two servants. Then he tells the servants to stay there with the donkey while he and Isaac go over yonder to worship. He says they'll be back soon.
Isaac carries the wood and Abraham carries the fire and knife. Then Isaac looks around and asks, "Where's the lamb for the burnt offering?"
In reality, he says, "Uhh, Dad, WHAT THE F%$# IS GOING ON?!?"
Abraham responds, "God will provide the lamb, my son," and they keep going.
So they get to the location that God tells him about, Abraham builds an altar, binds Isaac to the wood and takes out his knife. Abraham's ready to do the deed, and then Isaac yells, "Jesus Christ!" (That's not true at all.) God intervenes and says, "Don't lay a hand on the boy." So Abraham sacrifices a ram instead, and they leave the mountain. Okay, that passage speaks for itself. Now, let's go from burnt ram to grilled ham. That's right, I'm talking about the one and only Moe's Trolley.
It's Saturday at 1 a.m., you're on Pro Row, and the sweet smell of Moe's descends upon your nostrils. This is God. The smell is telling you: Eat meat (or a veggie burger); this is what your body needs. The smell is so powerful you can't say no even though you know it's bad for you, so you head over and get in line.
You see the sizzling dogs, burgers and kielbasas on the grill, and the wait is killing you. You look in your wallet, and you have just enough money. But then one of your friends comes up to you and says, "Bro, you don't want this. You don't need these saturated fats." You say, "What are you talking about?" He says, "Look, I've got some carrots back in the dorm. Let's go eat those." And then you shake your head and say, "No, man, this is my destiny." And your friend leaves and you're on your own in the wild west of grilled goodness.
The next morning, you wake up and notice that half a kielbasa's resting in your hand. You're still kind of hungry, so you take a bite and go back to sleep. You wake up two hours later and feel horrible. You finish the kielbasa and feel even worse. You're pretty sure you're still drunk. You get some breakfast and swear off Moe's for the rest of the semester, but the next week the smell is just too intoxicating to resist. That's the circle of life.
I just realized that this is not very related to Isaac and Abraham, but I feel like I started off strong.
In somewhat related news, I didn't get any emails about landlines, which proves my point that no one at Tufts "shares a telephone." In my next column, I'm going to reveal if there's a god.
Ben Zuckert is a senior majoring in political science. He can be reached at Benjamin.Zuckert@tufts.edu.
