“Why am I writing this short story?”
To educate my readers?
To entertain them?
To make them laugh or cry or think?
To try to make sense of the world?
Or is it in the words of many authors, “Because I have to.”
Or is it because I love my fan’s praise and adulation?
Am I addicted to writing, just as Tevya was addicted to talking to G-d.
Who knows?
But I love Tevya’s–-Fiddler on the Roof—monologues with the Deity:
“Am I bothering You too much? As the Good Book says… aaahh, why should I tell You what the Good Book says?”
I laugh.
G-d laughs.
“Sometimes I wonder, when it gets too quiet up there, if You are thinking, “What kind of mischief can I play on My friend Tevye?”
I relate.
G-d smiles.
“It may sound like I’m complaining, but I’m not. After all, with Your help, I’m starving to death. Oh, dear Lord. You made many many poor people. I realize, of course, it’s no shame to be poor… but it’s no great honor either. So what would be so terrible… if I had a small fortune?”
I laugh out loud.
G-d ponders the question.
“I know, I know. We are Your chosen people. But, once in a while, can’t You choose someone else?”
I nod in agreement.
G-d laughs.
Wow, Tevya talks to G-d as an equal.
What audacity!
He loves the Almighty and considers G-d his friend.
A friend Tevya trusts and has faith in.
A faith that allows him to carry on.
A faith that allows him to do wonders.
Tevya asks Almighty questions and patiently waits for answers.
I picture Tevya sitting on a log, talking and waiting; I remember a story from the Good Book.
The one about Sarah, who in her old age (post- menstrual), laughs at Yahweh when she hears the Almighty say to Abraham, “I’m coming back about this time next year. When I arrive, your wife Sarah will have a son.”
Since Sarah laughs at G-d, I venture that there’s little harm in trying to make the Deity laugh.
Then it hits me like a thunder clap.
I write to make G-d laugh. To make G-d smile. To make G-d giggle.
What an epiphany!
What audacity!
Having G-d as my audience, I’ll never know if my humor hits the mark.
No rejections. No frowns. No critical comments. No likes. No shares.
I’ll wonder, “Is the deity too busy to read my blogs?”
Nah, the Almighty has a large funny bone.
Look at these three examples:
- Orthodox rabbis thinking that they were delegated the authority to determine who is a Jew;
- Donald Trump;
- The way G-d laughs at our plans. (Think Covid)
I already hear the self-proclaimed protectors of the deity yelling and texting their displeasure:
“Why do they publish this crap?
“This short story is a sacrilege! A shonda! A total disgrace! Quelle horror!”
“This worthless nobody is making a mockery out of our holy traditions!”
“Excommunication is too good for this scoundrel. He should be kicked out of our tribe.”
“The writer of this story is meshuggah.”
“The Lord shall punish the author of this blog. Purgatory awaits him.”
“Religion is serious a business. It’s not a joke. It’s nothing to laugh at.”
“By the way, who appointed you, a lowly writer, the assignment to make G-d laugh or smile or giggle?”
To which I respond, “G-d.”