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I’ve told my closest friends (and I suppose it may have slipped out in a Bible study class here and there) that if the Heavenly Father had initiated the plan of redemption through the incarnation, death, and resurrection of His Son during the 16th or 17th centuries, there is a strong argument for the location of His birth being that of Scotland rather than Bethlehem, and with that, it would follow therefore that the likely vehicle for delivering the forgiveness of sins by His blood in the Sacrament of the Altar would have been Scotch. I mean, He is God, right? He has known which beverages are the best, even before the foundation of the world.

And if the aforementioned were true, perhaps it would also be true that as Moses led the Israelites in the wilderness, in these travels, as he struck the rock with the staff and out flowed water for the parched people, perhaps we already know what God’s alternative would have been.

Now, as an extremely conservative and confessional Lutheran who knows the purpose of the wilderness water as well as the Lord’s Supper being given in, with, and under bread and wine, before I traverse or tread any further into such jesting (for I do not intent to offend the faithful), the thought does linger that perhaps Moses had a side job at Glenmorangie, both he and the staff he used against that rock.

Glenmorangie’s choice title for the replacement of their Sauternes Cask edition, Nectar D’Or, reveals just what it is that Moses wanted you to experience in the drinking of this fine beverage.

“Nectar” isn’t difficult to decipher. So much is carried along there. But “D’Or” may be unfamiliar. It is Gaelic for “of or from gold.” In other words, Moses smacked a rock of gold and out flowed Nectar D’Or, a wonderful Scotch squeezed from a golden stone.

The Scotch is a wonderfully rich, golden color. It wafts a scent that I suppose once-in-a-while Scotch drinkers (like unto Christmas/Easter visitors as well as unbelievers) don’t often get to experience because they are swimming in lesser waters. At first, the notes are sweet, almost wine-like, and perhaps even as that of concord or white grapes. But with the lungs lifting another bit, the nose senses a honey companion. Just marvelous.

I would say that the palate mimics the nose. Same story, except go a little further into the Glenmorangie meadow and you’ll experience what I believe is a trademark hint of spicy citrus. I seem to receive the same from every edition I’ve ever enjoyed.

Each sip of the Nectar D’Or recedes with exquisite character. You may even say that is of a much better pedigree than its sauternes predecessor because, in my experiences with “after-taste,” this particular edition is dry enough that it leaves nothing behind except perhaps a lightly sweet coating and a longing for another sip.

In the end, as Moses led the Israelites across the Red Sea, as they were safely delivered to the other side while the pursuing Egyptians were washed away in tidal judgment, the scriptures record that the people sang a song to the Lord in praise of His delivering hand. Is it exegetically possible to discover that as they sang, they did so at the edge of the roaring waters with glasses raised? For this theologian, it’s worth another look.