Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)


Iz and Pal

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4071)

Sitting Twenty-Three

Pada was finding it difficult to sleep, brought on by the absence of Jubal dwelling in his household.

The disappearance of his son had also stirred old memories—bittersweet. When he was a boy, his father was living in the Sinai Peninsula in 1948, when Israel was granted statehood. Their family joined with a few others to form a small fellowship of Muslim men converting to Judaism. They named themselves the Sons of Rahab.

Part of their defection was due to spiritual searching and internal awakening. But mostly, it was just the desire for a new beginning. After all, there was new land, new opportunity and new people. A wandering soul could escape the sting of the past, the scrutiny of unforgiving neighbors and disappear into the enthusiasm of a burgeoning dream.

So Pada was born a year-and-a-half later, in the new state of Israel—a Jewish lad. His father was an austere and harsh disciplinarian—stringent and orthodox in the principles of Judaism, perhaps due to a guilty conscience over abandoning his native faith.

Punishing the children with his hands, harsh words and leather straps was the protocol of the household. Pada learned of God but it was a Deity whose face grew dark and cheeks reddened with anger, voice shrill and condemning. The punishment declared “divine” was always bruising and painful.

When he was sixteen, he left home to launch on his own. After failed businesses and shattered dreams, for a season he took work as a salesman. Insecure and lacking social graces, he found it difficult to choose the words to cajole patrons. He left in frustration and disgrace, realizing he needed a profession that would soothe his child-whipped soul while he was still able to earn a wage.

He became a tailor. The attention to detail and the simplicity of sewing, repairing and weaving suited him well, and eased his tormented mind. Yet when he returned home at night, Pada maintained the severity he had learned from his father.

Now, lying sleepless in his bed, he still found it difficult to reflect on young Jubal with thoughts of tenderness. Instead, he fought off fits of rage over being betrayed and dishonored.

He was undecided. For a while he remained stagnant. Yet in a moment of brief humility, he considered taking an uncharacteristic action. It had been years since he had crossed the city to a neighborhood where Allah ruled instead of Jehovah God. At first, he pridefully resisted the idea of reaching out, but after much deliberation and consternation, he concluded it was time to make the trip to meet the father of the young boy who shared a desert space with his Jubal. 

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The Presence of Absence… August 23, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(1984)

I am annoyed with the void.void

  • “I don’t believe”
  • “I don’t care”
  • “I don’t forgive”
  • “I don’t change”
  • “I don’t take crap”

I hear these statements screamed–a sociological rattletrap which is puttering down the highway towards a conversion to nothingness.

In the pursuit of personal freedom and individuality, we are completely abandoning the commonality and joy of being part of the human tribe.

It is the presence of absence.

It is the extolling of a vacuum, portraying that we are intelligent by having stumbled upon this emptiness.

God seems to be gone. Compassion is optional. Mercy is conditional–usually limited to those of our own household. Repentance is a joke because it requires that we consider our own lacking. And humility sucks–especially when we can blare our own horns to scare away the critics.

What I want to ask, very simply, is: do you really WANT to live in a world that is Godless, lacks compassion, is unmerciful, never-changing and arrogant?

I understand there are flaws in every system existing that is man-infested. But at least in the realm of spirituality, we will allow weakness to wheel its way through the front door of the sanctuary and sit in our midst without demanding that the person involved completely conform to some sort of mantra created by the intellectual elite.

I am tired of watching television or movies and being told that life sucks.

There you go. I should put that on a bumper sticker and slap it on the back of my van.

  • I am frustrated up to my gills with the ocean of ideas that look on the dark side of life, contending that we’re being innovative.
  • I don’t want True Blood. Matter of fact, I don’t want any blood.
  • I don’t want Breaking Bad. I would like to hear about people who have the guts to do something good in the midst of insanity.
  • I don’t want to hear about a Boardwalk Empire, where murder was the way to advance commerce instead of coming up with innovation and letting it play out.

I am weary of ill-doing.

Call it out–don’t critique society around you because you think it would make Jesus cry. Jesus is pretty resilient. But he does demand that we keep our hope for life instead of giving up and insisting that absence is our presence.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

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