Now Ornan turned and saw the angel, and his four sons who were with him hid themselves, but Ornan continued threshing wheat. – 1 Chronicles 21:20 (NKJV)
That’s a questionable translation of the verse, but it makes
me wonder if, when the Jebusites left Jerusalem, the descendants of Ornan might
have ended up in Scotland with their blood still flowing in the veins of some
of my kinfolk. It wasn’t like it was a
less than awe-inspiring sight: And David lifted his eyes and saw the angel
of the LORD standing between earth and heaven, and in his hand a drawn sword
stretched out over Jerusalem. Then David and the elders, clothed in sackcloth,
fell upon their faces. (v.16)
I think it is more likely that the “continued” doesn’t
belong, and the chronicler was simply explaining what Ornan (not to be confused with Onan and his flailing) was doing on his
threshing floor, as the old KJV implies.
In any case, Ornan did not run and hide.
Instead he went to David and offered him the ground, the threshing
sledges for fuel, the oxen for a burnt offering, and the wheat for a grain
offering. He recognized that this was
holy ground.
Traditionally, we are told
that this is the same spot where Abraham built an altar on which to sacrifice
his son, Isaac. It is featured prominently
in any modern picture of Jerusalem as it is near the Dome of the Rock mosque on
the temple mount. The parallel passage
is in 2 Samuel 24 where Ornan is called Araunah whose name means “Yahweh is
firm.” God is our Rock. The temple would be built on something that
would not sink or shift.
I may be sometimes as Ornan is depicted here: in the presence of the miraculous but so
caught up in the mundane that it does not fully register. I admit that I am torn between admiring a man
who would just keep on threshing wheat and thinking that he ought to have been
more shaken up. I mean, there was a plague. Seventy thousand people had died
already. Yes, that’s bad. I have wheat to
thresh. Some kind of frighteningly
glorious being shows up in mid-air with a sword stretched out over your
head. That’s impressive. This wheat is
not going to thresh itself.
In a way, I think we ought to be like that. Keep calm and flail on, because it isn’t
about our emotions but our obedience.
After all, it’s all around us.
Everything they tell us in songs and sermons, it’s all true, and it’s
all right here, right now. Christ is in
us. We are transformed. Heaven is everywhere present. We are immersed in it. The whole world is on fire with presence of
God. And it is good to let that presence
overwhelm us on a regular basis. No one,
though, can live like that every minute of every day.
More and more, I realize that the secret of Christianity is
in plain sight. We hear it and read it
all the time. Yet we continue to struggle, trying
to separate the wheat from the chaff in our hearts and lives. There is no shortcut to finally hearing – if it
is final. Our ultimately useless efforts
are, paradoxically, essential to our enlightenment. Flail on.
