That feeling is ancient. It’s woven right into the stories we tell about our ancestors. Let’s look at one such moment with Abraham, from the Book of Jubilees.
Now, the Book of Jubilees, sometimes called Lesser Genesis, is a fascinating text. It's a Jewish work from around the 2nd century BCE, offering a retelling of Genesis and Exodus, but with some key differences. Think of it as a commentary, filling in gaps and offering a particular perspective. It's not part of the Hebrew Bible canon, but it was clearly important in certain Jewish circles and is considered canonical in the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.
So, there's Abraham. He looks up at the night sky, at this infinite expanse dotted with stars. And God says to him: "So shall thy seed be." Imagine hearing that. A promise of countless descendants, more than the eye can even see.
"And he believed in the Lord," Jubilees tells us, "and it was counted to him for righteousness." This echoes Genesis 15:6. It's a profound moment, a cornerstone of faith. But even with belief, doubt can creep in, can't it?
Then, God continues, "I am the Lord that brought thee out of Ur of the Chaldees" – that’s ancient Mesopotamia, modern-day Iraq – "to give thee the land of the Canaanites to possess it for ever; and I shall be God unto thee and to thy seed after thee." A powerful declaration. A covenant.
But Abraham, ever the human, responds with a very human question. "Lord, Lord, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit (it)?" It's not a lack of faith, necessarily, but a yearning for certainty. A plea for a sign. We've all been there, haven't we?
And God, in his infinite patience, doesn't rebuke Abraham. Instead, he gives him instructions. "Take Me an heifer of three years, and a goat of three years, and a sheep of three years, and a turtle-dove, and a pigeon."
What’s going on here? What’s with all these animals? This is where things get interesting. This ritual that God commands Abraham to perform is a covenant ceremony. It echoes practices of the time, where animal sacrifices were used to seal agreements. The idea was that if one party broke the covenant, they would suffer the same fate as the animals.
So, we see this interplay of faith and doubt, promise and reassurance. It's a reminder that even the great figures of our tradition wrestled with uncertainty. It’s comforting, in a way. It shows us that questioning, seeking, and needing a little extra assurance is all part of the human experience, even on the path of faith. And maybe, just maybe, that seeking is itself a form of devotion.