Jonah:
The Prequel
I was
born a cursed man. I'm not famous. Not yet, at least. But soon,
everyone is going to know my name: Jonah. Some people would
eventually call me a prophet, but I never liked that term. It's
always implied something special or good about me and I don't think
I'm a particularly good person. No, I prefer the name Jonah. In
Hebrew it means “dove” which I guess makes sense. I was always
taking flight, ever since I could remember. Even as a baby, I was
quick to walk, preferring not to crawl but to learn how to move as
fast as I could, jetting from point A to point B, just to see how
fast I could get there. Adults called me curious, but looking back I
know it was a combination of mischief and movement that would shape
my life. Curiosity is just a nice word for it. Later on, my speed
and desire to flee served me well. I'd get into trouble and leave,
just like that. I was always running, from my family, from my
troubles, maybe even trying to run from myself. And for most of my
early life, I was pretty good at flying away. Until it all
eventually caught up with me. I couldn't run any longer – I had to
face everything about who I was, what I knew, and what my job would
eventually be. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't want to
tell you about how I got famous and what I did and that giant awful
fish. Not really. I want to tell you about who I am and where it
all began.
Even
if I wasn't a great person, there was something undeniably different
about me. Perhaps it's why I was always trying to escape, to leave,
to get away from it all. Because I could never really figure out how
to get away...from that voice. I always heard it. I can't remember
a time in my life when I didn't hear that voice, speaking to me, like
everyone else was speaking to me. But I remember the first time
that I really became aware of it, and knew that I was different.
I was
about 7 years old and my cousin and I were playing in the great big
waters. Usually we just went down there to bathe but it was a
particularly hot summer day. I never really liked being in the
water, but I liked that it could move me faster than I could move on
my own. So, I learned how to swim and let it move me along. I loved
the feel of the reeds against my skin as I moved fast, darting in and
out like the schools of fish we could see in the crystal clear
depths. My cousin and I were playing a game to see how long we could
stay underwater before we needed to get to the top and find some air.
He was pretty good, but I knew that I could be better. So I took a
deep breath, held my nose, and plunged underwater. As I sank lower
and lower into the cool wetness, I knew I was going to win. I was
just about ready to come up for air when I realized that I couldn't
move my foot. It was trapped. It was as though something had a hold
on it. It didn't hurt but I couldn't moved it and I suddenly became
aware of the fact that I was running out of air. I panicked. I
flailed my arms as fast as could be and heaved my body back and
forth, trying to free myself from whatever was holding me down. And
that's when I heard it. That voice. It wasn't unfamiliar to me.
Like I said, I had always heard it, but I'd never really been aware
of it. It was like background noise, most of the time. But suddenly
my mind was razor sharp and focused on the only sound I could hear.
“Relax....” it said. “Breathe....” I panicked all over
again. Where was that voice coming from? There was no one down
there with me, in the depths of those waters. But it came again, as
clear as could be. “Relax...” I felt the voice wash over me and
for the first time, I really listened to it. I stopped moving my
arms and my legs and I let my whole little body relax. My foot must
have been hooked on something because the second I let my body go
limp, my foot released from its trap and I floated to the surface.
It wasn't until I was above water, sputtering out liquid from my nose
and mouth, that I realized what had happened. A voice, that was not
me and not anyone else, had told me what to do. It had saved me.
And I was terrified. What was this voice? Where did it come from?
Why did I hear it all the time, now? What was happening to me? Why
couldn't anyone else hear this voice, like I did? I didn't
understand it. I knew I was cursed. So, I left.
I left
my family early on, when I was still a boy, and not quite yet a man.
. I left my family because they didn't understand me. They didn't
feel my need to get away, all the time, to try new things and to have
fun. I never liked being told what to do, from them or from anyone.
They certainly didn't understand that voice I had once tried to
explain to them. They just thought I was a freak. So, I left. Who
needs them, anyway?
I
didn't like the water, but I realized that the great big waters were
a means to an end. There were a lot of people there traveling in and
out, trying to sell things, trying to make a living. I found
like-minded people who dwelled along the great big waters. They were
always traveling back and forth, here and there, seeking what they
wanted, meeting new people, doing as they pleased. I gravitated
towards that lifestyle. That sense of freedom, of independence, of
carefree days. I wanted that. I craved that. They weren't the best
of people. In fact, they often lied, cheated, and stole to get what
they needed. But, I didn't mind that. It kept me on my toes, always
trying to stay one step ahead of everyone else. I didn't judge them
or care what they did, as long as they didn't hurt me and stop me
from making money. As long as I could run free and move when I
wanted and where I wanted, I was happy.
Soon
after I left my family, I met an old man, named Amittai, who took me
in. Like me, he understood the need to be free and to keep moving.
He always made sure I had shelter and food. He taught me how to do
business, too. He trained me to know how to sell and trade and
barter for what we needed, in exchange for what other people wanted.
We had fun, too. He loved hearing my stories from home and didn't
seem to mind when I told him about that voice. In fact, he quite
liked it – it often helped me understand people that we did
business with and figure out what to do when we were in trouble. It
was a good partnership, between me and Amittai – he had knowledge
and experience, and I was young and had energy and....intuition. But
it was more than that, what we had. He really was like a father to
me. He looked after me and understood me and treated me like I was
worthy of his time. In many ways, he was the only family that I ever
had, even if it was of our own making. For the first time, I WAS
happy...that is, until I was cursed, again.
We had
been in a new city for about 2 moons. Ami had gotten comfortable
with the local traders and merchants and sailors. And they were
getting to know us, too. Until one night, things took a wrong turn.
I was fast asleep, my back sore from carrying heavy loads all day,
when suddenly I was being shaken awake. “Get up, Jonah.” Ami
said. He looked serious but calm. “We have to make a deal,
tonight.” “Right now?” I said. His eyes told me the answer.
So I dragged myself up, threw on my clothes, and followed my friend
out to the great big waters. I trusted Ami, and I didn't want to
tell him that the voice was urging me not to go. I felt the voice
envelop me like the thick fog that was piercing the cool night air.
But, like I often did when I thought I knew better, I ignored it,
shrugged it off my shoulders like an old blanket and followed after
my friend. “Stay here” Ami told me. “Like all the guys we deal
with, these guys are a little tough. But they're offering me a good
deal for our stuff. I don't think they're dangerous, but I just want
you to be safe. Watch and learn how to deal with these kind of guys.”
I nodded, listening to my old friend, my business partner, my mentor,
and crouched into a small space in a stone wall, so I could see him,
but stay of sight. I watched him walk away, down towards the waters.
As he left, I longed to go after him, to stop him, to bring him back.
But, I didn't. I just stayed very still and kept my eyes open.
Three
men approached Ami, down by the waters. I couldn't see their faces,
only the outline of their bodies. One was short and wide and the
other two were taller. Ami immediately produced our goods for the
buyers to see. It only took a few seconds for what happened next.
One of the tall men grabbed Ami while the others struck him. I
couldn’t move. I was afraid. All I could hear was that voice
saying, “Stay here. Stay safe. Stay here.” I watched Ami fall
into the waters, as I was paralyzed by fear for my best friend. It
was the first time in my life I couldn't move, as desperately as I
wanted to. The three men took our goods and left. I rushed over to
Ami and dragged him out of the waters onto the shore, but I knew it
was too late for him. I held my friend as he left this world and I
sobbed over him. “Why?” I cried out. “Why did I listen to
that voice and stay?” I could have helped him. I could have
stopped them. I could have done something. But, instead, I had
nothing. All of our goods were gone, and I was alone – having lost
the only person in the world who ever felt like my family. I shut the
voice off and every time I heard it, I ignored it. It was just too
painful. It wasn't just that I was cursed, it was that everything I
touched, everyone I knew, they were cursed, too.
So, I
moved along. As the years rolled by, I learned how to fend for
myself, how to trade goods on my own, and how to survive. Ami had
taught me well and my business was enough for me to live off of, and
have a little extra too. I never forgot Ami, what he taught me, or
what happened, but I was starting to feel good again – running my
own life the way that I liked. People were starting to know me for me
and knew they could trust me to do business with them. I felt like,
with my loss of Ami, that I had seen the worst the world could offer.
I knew pain and suffering. I was finally on the road to happiness
and freedom. Until one day, I got cursed all over again. It was
the most common way any person can be cursed. Maybe you've heard of
it: The total and complete agony of LOVE.
I'll
never forget that day that I first met her. It's as crystal clear in
my memory, as if it happened yesterday. I was trading with the
sailors on the shore of the great big waters when I looked up and
there she was. Long, curly black flowing hair, beautiful smooth
skin, and a confidence about her I cannot explain. My heart was
beating fast and my mouth was suddenly dry. “I'm Jonah, son of
Amittai,” I said. I was surprised that my throat could actually
pull words from it. “I'm Neera,” she replied warmly, smiling at
me with her eyes. My heart fluttered and I felt light-headed. But
her warm eyes and her sweet smile steadied me. “I work with my
father, over there, to help our family business.” I barely glanced
over at the man she was pointing to, captivated by every motion she
was making and every breath she took. “Oh” I said. STUPID.
What kind of a line is that? But she just smiled at me, waved, and
turned to leave. “I hope I'll see you around, for a while,” she
said as she turned and ran towards her father. I exhaled. Yes, you
certainly will see me around.
Over
the next several moons, I saw Neera every single day. I learned
about her life and tried to understand who she really was. Her mother
had died giving birth to her and her brothers were out on the seas,
fishing for their family business. So, that left her on shore to
work with her father and sell and trade their goods and fare. She
was very close with her father and loved him very much. So, I did
what any love-struck man does, and I helped them out, showing up
every day to work with them. Lucky for me, her father seemed to
take a liking to me, as well. He often invited me to join them for
evening bread. Neera and her family were Hebrews, worshiping one
God, whom they considered to be the Source of everything – good,
bad, and even all the things we can't explain. I had never really
given much thought to it all, before, but the more I learned about it
from them, the more it made sense. God doesn't exist in things, in
small little statues or pictures that we make, but rather in what is
made around us, in what already exists, in moments and experiences.
God was the one who made the waters and the land and everything in
it. I liked it. It fit what I had always thought, but never really
understood. “I am a Hebrew too,” I announced one day to Neera and
her father. “I believe in one God, both wrathful and loving.”
They looked up at me, pleased, and quietly returned to their work. I
saw Neera look back up at me, and give a quick wink and a smile. I
felt triumphant. I felt as though things finally felt right. Being
with Neera was easy – she was warm and kind and taught me about her
land and I told her stories of my world and who I was. Every day
with her was new and interesting and I could feel myself growing,
actually changing, because of someone else. It both excited me and
terrified me, beyond belief.
After
one full turn of the sun, I realized that I had to leave. My
business was slowing down, I could no longer support myself and I
knew it was time for me to keep moving, to find new sellers to trade
with. My business, and my life, thrived when I was on the move. I
had been running my whole life, but this time, I wanted someone to
run with me. “Come with me, Neera,” I urged. “Your father can
come too. I love you both and it's time for me to move on....but, I
want you to move with me. Will you be my wife?” Neera looked at
me as though I had asked her to transform into a giant big fish. “I
can't,” she said. “My life is here. My home is here. My
brothers will return to us from the seas and if we're not here, how
would they find us? I love you, Jonah, but I can't go with you. Why
can't you just stay here, with us? We love having you.” The tears
welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. “I thought you
understood me. I thought you knew who I was, after all this time. I
can never stay. There is too much to see and do and run towards.”
And then, I heard that voice, the one I shut away for so many years,
and it spoke through me. “It's my destiny to go. It's my future
to leave here. I just don't want to leave you....” “I can't,”
she repeated. And her shoulders began to heave as her sobs unleashed
like a mighty torrent. My heart ripped in two. I kissed her cheek
softly. “I'll always love you,” I said, realizing the weight of
my words. The finality in them. “Me too,” she answered softly.
“Me too.”
So, I
left. The first person I ever loved was taken from me. The second
person I ever loved, well....I guess that was my doing. That's the
thing about being cursed. You can feel joy and love and alive, but
there's still pain and confusion and doubt. After Ami's death, I had
resigned myself to loneliness and emptiness, and Neera changed that
for me. She taught me it was possible to love and feel happiness,
again. She helped me to understand that there were forces in this
world beyond my control. No matter how far I run, I can never escape
that love, or all of my heart-break, or everything I learned. The
difference is, that I know who I am, now. I know why I run and I
know what I believe in and what I've seen and what my life can hold.
I don't always like it, and I will always prefer to run away from it,
rather than towards it. I guess that's part of knowing who I am. I
am not a particularly good person – in fact, I'm quite flawed. I
am just a human, a human who senses and hears and feels and who needs
to keep moving. Maybe that voice is some kind of special gift, but it
doesn't change who I am, deep down inside. Not really.
I know
I am a cursed man. And my story is not yet done. I know that
whatever comes next, it will continue to be built upon the sum of all
of my experiences. Every decision I make might not be the best one,
but it's mine to make and it's mine to stand by. After all, whether
you're cursed or not, whether you hear that voice too or not, we are
all humans, living and learning and I guess that’s what we're all
trying to do – just live our lives and move forward, as best we
can.
So
that’s me, Jonah. There’s a lot more, but it will all unfold,
over time. Like the rest of us, all we can do is live and learn and
keep on moving.
1 comment:
It's quite sad that a Yom Kippur sermon is entirely devoid of the words Torah or Mitzvah! It's telling, too, how little value these major elements of Judaism cannot pierce the mindsets of a Reform Jew - at such an awesome day of the Jewish calendar.
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