What is characterized as God in the Abrahamic account is the spirit that eternally says, in essence, even to the unwilling, "You must leave the comforts of your tent—your home and family—and journey into the terrible world." God is that which compels us outward.
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What does it mean that God calls Abram to journey [to the land of the Canaanites]? It means that every sojourner called forth by the spirit of adventure will suffer exposure to the full gamut of human sin and cruelty, and that such exposure must somehow be managed—even turned into part of the adventure. This point is repeated when the hero of our current story journeys into the absolute depths of depravity characterizing the doomed cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Why is this all necessary? Because the world is fallen. Because the world is real. Because man has something genuine to do. Where there is no challenge and no limits there is no impetus upward, no growth, no development—even nothing real. The meaninglessness of such situations signifies exactly that. Obstacles make things real. Limits, constraints, and dangers make things real. Maybe death itself is necessary to make things real. Then the question arises: If the cost of reality is death, how might reality manifest itself to justify that price? That is the ultimate question, with the paradisal dream providing the impossible answer. God provides an intimation, with the initial call. If the requirement to strive forward in the world is accepted, the reward is limitless: a life well-lived, the establishment of a genuine and stellar reputation, the founding of a nation, and a blessing on the entire world. Is that sufficient to pay for death? There is no a priori answer. That is the curse of the true existential dilemma. Is it worth it? You are fated to find out along the way.
What way?
That is the eternal question.