I remember the first horror movie that I ever watched.  My sister and I rented The Exorcist, when we were in junior high.  We were so afraid.  We had to keep stopping the movie to get some relief.  I am not sure that we ever finished it.

This was only the first part of a scary story, however.  When my mother found out that we had seen it, we saw part two.

So let’s return to the Israelites.  They are not just scared, they are terrified.  It is in a way that I cannot understand.  Horror movies could not elicit this type of response, because there is some comfort in that pause button.  The imagination is allowed to take a break, even if it is only closing our eyes through all the scary parts.

The same thing happens when we read scripture.  There is privilege in our safe place, specifically on my fluffy couch.  Standing between me and this lesson is 66 books and thousands of years.

Our response would be the same, though.

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My husband and I were visiting my sister for one of her epic social gatherings, which she adores. My husband was sitting with a crowd, in the dining room, talking and enjoying himself at the head of the table. I was standing in the archway, between the dining room and the living room, staring at his handsome face.

I love to see him have a good time. He is a wonderful laugh-er, and laughing he was when a blond woman came out of the kitchen. She purposefully strode over to my husband, knelt down, placed both of her hands on his thigh and began to sing to him. She stared adoringly into his face, and I stared, disbelieving, at her.

After the shock wore off, my husband looked up at me with wide eyes. We exchanged astounded gazes as she poured out her serenade to him. I could see his discomfort while he measured his desire to be polite with his survival instincts.

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