A Preacher, A Rabbi, and A Professor Go Into a Computer Store
I met Rabbi Jonah in a computer store. He was like Santa Claus in a wheelchair. Very fat with a white beard and two thin stockings called legs hung with care from under his great bottom. Polio. He lived back in those days.
His friend Robert had Muscular Dystrophy and sat quietly in his own wheelchair. Robert had a Ph.D. in history, but his teaching days were over. His new challenge was getting food to his mouth since his arms had begun to fail him.
Thus began a most wonderful and challenging friendship.
Jonah was the most intelligent man I’d ever met. He had a hell of an education too – Old School. He was fluent in at least 6 languages. He taught himself Greek just so he could look into this “New” Testament.
We quickly settled into the routine that we enjoyed until they moved to Los Angeles 2 years later. I would load them into their van and drive them all over town. The only agenda was that we never stopped talking. God, Religion, History, Life, All of it.
That December I was using the Hebrew word Shalom in my Advent sermon series. The Rabbi was waxing eloquent on the concept of Shalom while we drank coffee at their kitchen table. I was a little distracted watching Robert trying to steer spoons of soup into his mouth.
I think Jonah realized that he was not at peace and decided to do something about it. He stopped his lesson and asked me point blank, “Preacher, do you think I’m going to hell?” *
I gave my polite answer. “That’s really not my business. What happens to you after you die is between you and God.”
That was not enough for the Rabbi who responded quickly. “No, you don’t get off that easy. As I understand it, your religious tradition teaches that I will go to hell unless I accept Jesus as my savior. I don’t intend to do that. I think you owe me an answer. Do you believe I’m going to hell?”
I did not want to hear this.
He was right. I do come from a tradition that understands hell to be real. Maybe not eternal fire, pitchforks and gloomy caves, but separation from God is understood to be real.
I’d been avoiding the subject of hell for some time, living in denial. We gentle Christians often do this. The harsh reality of our theology works against what we discover in real life. Those of us who get to know people of other faiths are profoundly moved by the experience.
A Real Live Rabbi faced me across the table. Here was no theology or doctrine or tradition. Here sat Jonah, a man I had grown to love.
He escaped the concentration camps when he was three because a Mennonite man grabbed him and said, “This is my son.” His family stared straight ahead and pretended not to know him. They found their tar basket at the last minute and let him sail away. The Mennonite brought him to this country and helped him find his only surviving relative.
As a young man in rabbinical training he danced with the Torah before polio took his legs.
I had been to temple with him and seen him twitching in his chair, for he longed to dance again with the sacred scroll. I had heard his impassioned prayers, offered at the end of the day. He was teaching me a little Hebrew, ever patient as I struggled with the text.
I could not look him in the eyes for I understood then how our theology hurt him and other people of faith.
“No”, I said. “I do NOT believe you are going to hell. You love God more than anyone I know, more than anyone. I feel closer to you than I do to many in my own tradition. I cannot believe that about you.”
He stared at me until I could look him in the eyes again and simply said, “Thank you.”
The stunning dignity he put into that “thank you” is ever on my mind.
We have a belief that tells us faith in Jesus Christ is important. We have a theology that tells us what we decide here on earth has consequences after our life is over.
I have two friends named Jonah and Robert. They are Jews. I am unable to think that God does not accept them – I am not able to think this. There is something deep within me that will not abide such thought.
I owe Jonah a great debt. Because of my encounter with him, mine is a theology born not only of word, but of flesh and Spirit.
The Preacher
*He used my real name, of course.
7:13:39 PM 
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