When folks come to my community, they often apologize right away for “not being very observant” and for “not really knowing much about Judaism.”
Over the past quarter century, which has included teaching emerging spiritual leaders as well as working with congregants, I learned that such statements generally did not reflect reality. Instead, I found that everyone who became part of my spiritual world alreadypossessed a wide-ranging knowledge that they needed only to uncover. What they believed they were looking for was often already there, inside mind, soul, and heart.
Last Yom Kippur, I sat with congregants in an afternoon study session on the book of Jonah. Most had either not read it or didn’t remember much about it, so our first task was to refamiliarize ourselves with its contents.
We identified all the characters in its pages. These included the obvious ones: God, Jonah, the sailors, the captain, the people of Ninevah, and the king. Then we named the less obvious characters: the big fish, the beasts, the worm, the plant, the wind, and T’hom (that last character will deserve a post of their own at some point).
We discussed a few of the many oddities of the story. A runaway prophet whose kvetching might (or might not) be justified, depending on your view. Sailors who really don’twant to commit homicide. Beasts of the field being covered in sackcloth in order to… repent?
After our discussion, I told everyone that we were all about to write letters. We could each choose any character as the author of the letter and any other character as the recipient. Below are a few of the briefer examples:
Worm to God:
Dear Lord, the Sole | ???? am all that there is | ???? am all that there was | ???? am all that there will be,
Why was it my job to attack the ricninus plant? Could you not have just struck it with lightning, or pulled the burning bush trick?
I had just completed my new worm tunnel and den and just mastered a new Klein bottle geometry. Then this bush appeared with a supernatural growth spurt and this Jonah guy sat down right on top of my worm den. Half the bush’s roots suddenly sprang up, running amok through my den and I had to work a triple shift to chew them back and get them out of the way.
Worm (Jonah 4:7)
Big Fish to God:
Dear God, when you sent me Jonah, I provided him with the hospitality owed to a stranger. But am I supposed to do this with everything I eat? If I do that, pretty soon I will be a small fish.
Yours truly,
B. F.
From the king to Jonah:
I know everyone thinks you’re the hero of this story and, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with the way the story works out, and you do deserve some credit, just not all of it! Now, my realm was not destroyed and was able to continue, complete with all our herds and flocks, because you warned us of YHVH’s threat of total destruction.
But, who really saved the day?
Me!
Without my understanding and my instructions to my people, the story would have ended very badly. And so would have you!
Jonah to king:
Dear king, you are so lucky to have subjects who fear and obey you. Is there any chance you could find a place for me at court?
Yours truly,
J.
Congregants wrote letters from the beasts and sailors, too. God was questioned along with Jonah and the king. Humor (as is obvious from this brief selection) was in abundance. Deep theological questions also emerged.
I did not need to bring in a host of rabbinic commentary. I did not quote the sages.
Instead, I asked each and every person to share their own knowledge, their own questions, their own wisdom.
It was enlightening – exciting, actually.
Nowadays, this is my answer to anyone who apologizes for what they think they don’t know: “You are about to be surprised at how learned you are!”
My job is not about identifying what is “lacking” in order to fill “gaps.” Instead, I can take the joyful opportunity to note the abundance, the beauty, and the richness that is already there.
It is a lovely take on what it means to be a rabbi.
