The Woodsmith’s Son

In a dream, I saw myself walking by the beautiful and small lake near my hometown... A sound like the song of birds and perhaps mermaids reached my ears... And I saw a light in the middle of the great lake... And I felt my steps gradually quickening... And the gentle, caressing wind lifted my hands up and down, and when I came to my senses, I was slowly flying like a seagull over the small but beautiful lake.

As I flew over the lake, an inner voice instructed me to descend... Then suddenly, a lightning bolt burned my wings, and a great wave from the calm center of the lake engulfed me! A storm swept me away, and I was drowning! And I awoke with a jolt!

The sun was rising, and the morning prayer was coming to an end! Without wasting a moment, I reached the prayer hall and stood beside my wise old teacher, who was in prayer. I sat down silently and, in deep silence, joined him in prayer. The tiny monastery is in a dense forest nestled among the mountains of Syria, and I was the only disciple of the wise old man.

After his rituals, my wise teacher said, “Mithra is the great God, and love is the only duty, and you must obey all the teachings of the ancient texts of Eastern religions. I am the only one left of the three.”

I said, “Accept me and teach me your wisdom...”

He said, “In the doctrine of wisdom, only love is worthy of worship. There are a hundred pieces of advice that I will teach you... But all of them can be summarized in just one piece of advice, my child.”

I said, “And what is it?”

He said, “You will learn it.”

And wisdom was the most important thing he wanted to teach me... I occasionally helped him with the small expenses of the little monastery by making wooden tools, a craft I had learned and loved since childhood.

One night, in another dream, a voice emerged from the depths of a nightmarish darkness. I heard it say the following, “Chain the hands and feet of this demon-possessed young man! I am sure that a hundred lashes and a few nights in the dungeon will restore his sanity.”

And in another dream, I heard my mother's voice echoing in my ear, “Safe travels, my child! Your awakening will be even sweeter.” And I saw her running after me, crying and shouting.

One early morning, after morning prayer and while gardening beside my teacher, he turned to me and suddenly said with a smile, “Speak your mind, my child.”

I said, “My dreams linger in my memory longer and longer.”

He said, “Dreams! I have told you, my child, do not take dreams seriously.”

My teacher knew they wouldn't leave my mind. The wise old man understood everything and asked me with a glance, “Very well... Tell me about the ones you remember the most.”

I started, “In a dream, I saw myself next to a young woman and my mother. My mother said to me after lunch, “My dear son, I wish you would allow us to marry Mary here to you. She is also your distant relative.” I replied, “My dear mother! I am still very young, and I fear that I do not know how to live my life alongside a woman.”

In another dream, a woman dances in the middle of the house courtyard, performing a dance similar to the dance of the seven veils.… And in the midst of the wedding celebration, someone suddenly shouted, “Cut off his head and bring it to me in a basket!” And I saw a young man I seemed to know, and I smiled at him. Suddenly, I woke up and started crying... I had dreamt of my cousin and my mother, and I have repeated dreams of the beautiful lake, and the lake is real, from my hometown.

The wise man just nodded after listening to all my dreams.

That evening, after completing the daily tasks, the wise old man summoned me and... said to me, “Whenever you want, you can leave this place and I.

I replied, “Have I learned everything? Don't you have any more advice to give me?!”

He said, “No, but you won’t learn anything because you’re preoccupied with returning home.”

I pleaded, “One more piece of advice, please.”

He said, “You won't heed this advice, my child.”

I persisted, “My master…”

He relented, “You must move on from the past... Do not look back... Never return to your homeland.”

The wise old man left the small room... And I, without any movements, was once again immersed in the memories of distant years... And involuntarily, I was reminded of the days when I was still with my parents, the last days. The days when I had just ended my teenage years and could now be called a young man, when there were no new woodworking skills left for my father to teach me, no Torah scroll left that I hadn't memorized, and no commentary on the Torah that I hadn't read.

And I remembered a conversation that I had with my cousin John, who had recently joined the ranks of the wise men by the Jordan River. He had said, “Truly, the three wise men from the East knew the time of your birth and had traveled thousands of miles to witness it and pay you homage. I fully understand your interest in searching for them!

I agreed, “Yes, how did they find me and know that I am not just a baby? What does the future hold for me? I’m sure I can learn to be wise like them! John, how can I find them? By which path should I set out to seek them?”

John said, “You set foot on the path and ask nothing, for the path itself will tell you how to proceed.”

"Wish me well and to find them, o wise cousin,” I replied gratefully.

He replied, “I wish you enlightenment and divinity.”

“I look forward to meeting you again,” I replied.

John paused for a moment and then said with a smile, “No... You and I will never see each other again.”

Did I hear correctly? Did I really hear him say, “We will never see each other again?!” However, the desire to meet the wise men was so strong that I didn’t stop to ponder upon his words. I set out on my way. I was young, strong, and inquisitive, so I set out on my way and followed a path away from Jerusalem.

One of my companions asked me to go with him to Jerusalem, but I told him that I would pass by. As I passed by, I was reminded that there is nothing new for me to see or learn in Jerusalem. I have conversed with all the teachers of the sacred texts and am tired of their repetitive words.

I left Jerusalem for those who sought wealth, children, status, etc., and I continued on my way. It was the first time I had ventured this far from my hometown, and I trembled at my courage. But I continued on. I followed a road from the banks of the Jordan River toward Damascus and then the desert of Syria. For years, I searched the monasteries and convents in pursuit of the wise men. It dragged on to a little more than ten years. I had left my hometown in pursuit of the three wise men who were present beside my father and mother at that time.

A few years ago, after accompanying many caravans in Syria, Persia, and other surrounding lands, I finally found one of those three wise old men, a teacher, residing in a tiny monastery in Nineveh, ravaged by decades of war between Iran and Rome. He had devoted himself to serving in that monastery for years, and I asked him to teach me the wisdom he possessed.

Reminiscing about all these, I realized that my teacher was right and I needed to return to Galilee, so I left. Near Galilee, I recalled the moments before leaving the monastery. I asked the wise old teacher again, “Master, teach me a final lesson.”

He said, “Do not seek to rule over anyone or anything.”

I said, “I do not seek rulership of this world. What about rulership of the heavens?”

The old wise one took a moment to breathe deeply and, after a long silence, said, “The kingdom of the heavens?! The kingdom of heaven is within you. This is the main message to all seeking wisdom. Don't go anywhere else. Do not search outside of yourself. You will find nothing there. You’ll be empty, unhappy, and unfulfilled, because true kingship and wealth are part of your being, your inner world, and your spirit.”

I replied, “I shall strive to teach everyone in my homeland, in all of Jerusalem, and in all of Syria to love one another.”

He replied, “Your effort is unnecessary... The one who wants to learn will learn, and the one who doesn’t will not.”

I insisted, “There can't be any other way!”

And the wise old man said to me, “With such thoughts as you have, you will not reach old age.”

Still, I said, “Reveal the essence of wisdom to me, Master...”

He replied, “The essence of wisdom?! There is only one lesson, you said it; learn to love everyone!”

As I walked towards Galilee, I still saw myself beside the wise old man, and I heard my voice asking, “Master! Teach me another lesson.”

With great patience, he said, “Truly, I repeat. Move on from the past, do not look back, and never return to your hometown.”

However, I could not heed his last lesson. I was on the way back to Galilee; I went to the house of family friends in Bethany and sat down to eat with Lazarus and his sisters. Martha now had two teenage children, and her sister Mary was still a virgin... They brought stew, bread, and wine for me. Everyone was happy to see me.

Lazarus said to me, “Brother, Galilee is not the same now. You will not see the same Galilee, Jerusalem, or Judea that you left behind.

I replied, “Lazarus, my brother! What are you saying?!”

I left them and headed toward Galilee. Near Galilee, I heard unbelievable news from passersby. Then, I saw a group of my old peers killing Roman soldiers. A group with daggers at their waists urged me to join the band of fighters gathered to kill the Roman soldiers. I had no interest in joining the rebel groups against the Romans; it had been that way since my teenage years. Besides, I didn't have the heart to kill even a small lamb, let alone strong and experienced Roman soldiers. I spent one night with them, and after breakfast the next morning, I reached the gate of my hometown.

Hearing some wailing from my relative’s house, I quickened my steps. I saw my brother crying, and he embraced me when he saw me. He said, “They have beheaded John. Pity our dear and kind aunt!

I cried out, “What are you saying?! When?! Whatever for?!!!”

He replied, “He was against Herod for marrying his brother's wife. For months, he was imprisoned in the dark dungeon of his palace, bound and tortured. Yesterday, after months in prison, they severed his head from his body and served it on a platter!! Do you know why?” he sobbed. “A reward for the wicked and vile stepdaughter of Herod. For her dance of the Seven Veils, she had asked for the head of John the Baptist!”

I was devastated to hear all these but John had done his part in making the way for me! I suddenly knew it.

I was tired of the Roman soldiers, the markets of Jerusalem … the hustle and bustle of life still held no appeal for me, but by the lake I had always loved, I saw two fisherman brothers, the children of an acquaintance, and we sat down to talk, and they were interested in what I had to say and were willing to follow me.

Then, I found several more companions. Soon, fellow townspeople and acquaintances were seeking me, and they listened and understood my message of love deeply.

A few years passed and I was giving one of my sermons at the foot of a mountain. Thousands of people had gathered to listen to my words, I was happy but at the end, I was once again reminded of this... the old wise man's words echoed in my ears, “Always keep this in mind. A messenger of wisdom and someone who is awakened will be welcomed in every place with open arms except in their homeland and not by their relatives and family. A wise man will never be accepted in his hometown. If you want your head at the threshold of old age, never give advice to the ignorant and the foolish... And never return to your homeland... If you return, never stay there for more than a few sunsets.”

When I lifted my head and looked around, there was no one else there except my close friends; everyone else had left.

Several nights after the sermon on the mountain, I was angry with myself and everything as I prayed under the trees of the Garden of Gethsemane. I began to doubt myself. I am a failure! Will I be able to teach at least my closest ones how to love selflessly?

More than three years have passed since my preaching, and my true followers are barely more than the fingers on my two hands.

A voice whispered in my ear, “All these three years have been in vain. You should just live like others, finding comfort with a wife and children for your company.”

And the voice of the governor of Judea asked me, “Are you the king of these people?!”

"Not the kingdom of this world, but the kingdom of heaven!” I answered.

And he suddenly shouted, “Chain the hands and feet of this demon-possessed young man. Surely a hundred lashes and a few nights in the dungeon will bring him back to his senses!”

And the heavy shackles and chains on my neck and hands pulled me out of my dreams once again. But the sound of my childhood voice still echoed in my ears. “Mother! Teach me something.”

And my mother's warm and pleasant voice said, “Never turn your face away and do not look back.”

And to my father, I asked, “Father, teach me something else.”

He said, “My child, reading the Torah and woodworking are the only things that I can teach you.”

As I recalled my memories, the blows of the executioner's whip became heavier and more lethal with each moment, and the cross was waiting to be carried by me. But I began to feel the euphoria that it will be over soon; I will return to my kingdom. I am not just a woodsmith’s son!