Author's Notes

Okay, I know what some of my regular readers might be thinking: "What the heck? A story that isn't Sonic!" Yeah, I suppose going from Sonic to the Bible must seem an... odd shift, to say the least. XP This was an assignment for a class I took a couple of years ago. I'm not even sure what exactly the assignment was, just that we were studying the Bible at the time. I didn't think to upload it til now when I was looking through some of my Word files. There's another assignment from that class that I would've liked to upload, too, but unfortunately I've had to replace my hard drive since then and no longer have it. ;-; It was a conversation between Pontius Pilate and I thinkthe kingfrom the play Antigone (can't even remember his name now). It was quite nifty. But I digress. So here it is, a short vignette written in the same style as the Bible (or its supposed to be, anyway). Enjoy!

The Golden Calf

I was made by a man, the brother of a prophet. I am an image of molten gold, nothing more. And yet they build me an altar and bow themselves before mine feet. They worship me as their god who hath led them out of Egypt. But I have not done this thing. My power liveth only in their minds and in their hearts, my glory only in their eyes. They are my creators, and they bow themselves before me. Does the great I AM bow Himself before them as well?

The foolish children of Israel praise me, the conjuring of their own vain imaginings, above the Lord their God. I have replaced Him in the eyes of the people. They dance and make merry before me, the law of the Lord given by Moses cast aside. How quick they are to forget He who brought them out of bondage.

Ah, but now I see that Moses hath returned, and his anger is kindled against them. He braketh the tablets of law at my feet, and then I am cast into the fire from whence I came. The prophet grinds me up and casts my remains into the river. But I am not gone, for he commandeth the children of Israel to drink of the river. Yea, I am made one with them.

My image hath been destroyed, but I still dwell in their hearts. Yea, I dwell even in the hearts of all men. I shall not perish, for my creators shall not let me perish. The pride of their hearts sustaineth me. Their rebellious hearts house me. So long as the children of men place themselves above the Lord their God, they shall always have a Golden Calf to worship.