Brief intro: A Facebook friend chided me for my blogging laxity (shout-out to C. Sue, who is stangely fond of getting mentioned in the blog) — and I told her I had been busy. That’s only partly true. I wrote this entry over a week ago, but for some dumb reason I decided it really needed to be illustrated. And that’s what has taken all the time. (Have you ever tried drawing Moses?) I really should’ve just skipped it, but in some little way, these little doodlings might be my bowl of sheep’s milk. That sentence will actually make sense if you read all the way through to the end. Enjoy.

Some recent developments have made me realize how little and shallow my faith is, and how false my foundation is. I suppose we all go through little epiphanies like this, but this one has made me wonder at the audacity I have had to read and chant the theology and hymnody of the Church when a wiser woman would’ve known enough to keep her mouth shut.

But then, I realize that that’s not quite the right response to a troubling onset of humility. Retiring yourself from service because you’re a sinner isn’t a good precedent — who would be left if we started that ball rolling?

And besides that, am I really the most qualified to say whether God would accept my puny little offering of service? There is, after all, the issue of Moses and the fox.

I probably lost almost everyone with that, so I’ll just quote the story from Hebrew folklore, as told by Mpn. Anthony Bloom(**):

Moses finds a shepherd in the desert. He spends the day with the shepherd and helps him milk his ewes, and at the end of the day he sees that the shepherd puts the best milk he has in a wooden bowl, which he places on a flat stone some distance away.

So Moses asks him what it is for, and the shepherd replies “This is God’s milk.” Moses is puzzled and asks him what he means. The shepherd says, “I always take the best milk I possess, and I bring it as an offering to God.”

Moses, who is much more sophisticated than the shepherd with his naive faith, asks, “And does God drink it?”

“Yes,” replies the shepherd.”He does.”

Then Moses feels compelled to enlighten the poor shepherd, and he explains that God, being pure spirit, does not drink milk. Yet the shepherd is sure that He does, and so they have a short argument, which ends with Moses telling the shepherd to hide behind the bushes to find out whether in fact God does come to drink the milk. Moses then goes out to pray in the desert.

The shepherd hides, the night comes, and in the moonlight the shepherd sees a little fox that comes trotting from the desert, looks right, looks left and heads straight towards the milk, which he laps up and disappears into the desert again.

The next morning Moses finds the shepherd quite depressed and downcast. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

The shepherd says, “You were right. God is pure spirit and He doesn’t want my milk.”

Moses is surprised. He says, “You should be happy. You know more about God than you did before.”

“Yes, I do,” says the shepherd, “but the only thing I could do to express my love for Him has been taken away from me.”

Moses sees the point. He retires into the desert and prays hard. In the night, in a vision, God speaks to him and says, “Moses, you were wrong. It is true that I am pure spirit. Nevertheless, I always accepted with gratitude the milk which the shepherd offered me, as the expression of his love, but since, being pure spirit, I do not need the milk, I shared it with this little fox, who is very fond of milk.”

That’s Mpn. Anthony’s story, and he uses it as an introduction to the idea that though we should always seek to deepen our understanding and grow in maturity, we need not be afraid that God will reject the childlike offerings that we make, if they’re made with a good heart and the fullest understanding we have. Mpn. Anthony says:

You must put all the heart you can into an act of worship, an act of recognition of God, an act of cherishing, which is the true meaning of charity, an action which involves you in the mind, in the heart, and an action which is completely adequate to what you are.