Jacob the Baker: Gentle Wisdom for a Complicated World (Jacob the Baker Series) (5 page)

ARRIVING AT OUR EXPECTATIONS

A
young man, caught in an argument with himself, came to see Jacob.

“I want to believe in God but I don’t understand God,” he said.

“Neither do I,” said Jacob. “But, then, God isn’t designed to fit into my mind. Each of us is from the hand of God. None of us is The Hand.”

“Well, how can you have faith when you look at all the terrible things that have happened to innocent people?”

“Because there is great sadness in life does not mean God doesn’t exist. I choose hope over despair.”

“So you have no proof.”

“Most of us find what we are looking for,” said Jacob. He looked up and saw clouds circling inevitably toward rain.

“Walk with me for a while,” Jacob said to the young man, and they moved silently through the changing weather.

Then, without explanation, Jacob stopped and told his companion to find a tree that they could plant.

“A tree?” asked the young man. “If we plant a tree here by the road, someone else will certainly come along and chop it down.”

“Very well,” said Jacob. “I will plant the tree.”

“But what shall I do?” asked the young man.

“Oh, you?” asked Jacob, his mind acting as if it were already somewhere else. “You will find somebody to chop down the tree.”

FROM WITHIN A DAYDREAM, I AWAKE FROM WITHIN A MOMENT, I RETURN TO TIME

T
he night brought its own silence, and this silence carried its own sounds.

Jacob sat at home, sat staring at his fingers which were laced together in his lap.

In the distance, his mind crossed and recrossed the river.

He could see the bridge like a wooden hand reversely cupped and spanning the river.

He saw every obstacle as an experience waiting for a person whose faith would bridge his doubts.

He studied notes to himself that lay in his room like the random scattering of leaves in fall.

“
No act is an orphan
.”

“The fruit of a lie is rotten before it is ripe.”

“The wealthy will throw coins over a wall to the poor but will not pay to have the wall taken down.”

“The moments we do not spend are not saved.”

Jacob’s mind stepped out onto its bridge, listened for his doubts, and felt The Hand beneath him stir.

IN THE ASHES

W
hen Jacob woke, he opened his eyes cautiously.

He reassured himself by measuring his pace in each word of his morning prayer.

He was anxious to get to the bakery while it was still dark, to lay his cheek on the warming oven.

Nevertheless, halfway to the bakery, Jacob decided to stop at Mr. Gold’s, hoping he would be awake.

Under the lamp post of a full moon, Jacob rapped gently on the shutters closeting Mr. Gold’s window.

Mr. Gold heard the sound and thought he was a young man again, being called to prayers.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” he shouted to the dawn.

Jacob was touched to see memory capable of drawing Mr. Gold out of the darkness.

When he saw it was Jacob, Mr. Gold motioned for his friend to come in and grew a smile for his company.

Then, just as quickly, Mr. Gold’s head dipped downward. “Do you know who I am, Jacob?”

He didn’t give Jacob an opportunity to speak.

“I am an old man, and I am dying.”

Mr. Gold seemed to sink beneath his sadness.

“Tell me, Jacob. Is this it?” He motioned around the room. “Is there nothing more? We become attached to this life only to be torn from it like some crude joke in the stars.”

“We make life not only crude but cold,” said Jacob, “by dressing ourselves in a nakedness woven from our own ignorance.”

Then Mr. Gold spoke again from behind his sadness. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Our days amount to nothing!”

Jacob’s eyes listened without arguing or agreeing. He thought of the pain festering in Mr. Gold’s words.

When Jacob spoke, his voice unfolded with the attitude of a man not filled with knowing but caring.

“Mr. Gold, all passes, nothing stops. Our days do amount to nothing, but that is because we are not a collection. We are a process.

“The truth about the seasons is that the seasons change. While everything appears to live and die, it is only the appearance of things which lives and dies. The dead are buried. Their memory is not.”

Mr. Gold’s voice considered Jacob’s words.

“You know, Jacob, you are wise, and I am old.”

“Then you already know, Mr. Gold, that the roots of time hold both memory and promise.”

“Will you remember me, Jacob?”

“I promise, one day, I will join you, Mr. Gold.”

Mr. Gold’s laughter sounded like a trumpet and brought light to the corners of the room.

Then the silence regained its balance, and the two men sat there, making music from the quiet between their notes.

It was Mr. Gold who counted time and eventually spoke first.

“Jacob, where do you find the strength to carry on in life?”

“Life is often heavy only because we attempt to carry it,” said Jacob. “But, I do find a strength in the ashes.”

“In the ashes?” asked Mr. Gold.

“Yes,” said Jacob, with a confirmation that seemed to have traveled a great distance.

“You see, Mr. Gold, each of us is alone. Each of us is in the great darkness of our ignorance. And, each of us is on a journey.

“In the process of our journey, we must bend to build a fire for light, and warmth, and food.

“But when our fingers tear at the ground, hoping to find the coals of another’s fire, what we often find are the ashes.

“And, in these ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there may be sadness, but there is also testimony.

“Because these ashes tell us that somebody else has been in the night, somebody else has bent to build a fire, and somebody else has carried on.

“And that can be enough, sometimes.

“And that can be enough.”

About the Author

Noah benShea is one of North America’s most respected and beloved poet-philosophers, and a source of strength to millions around the world. He is the international best-selling author of 23 books translated into 18 languages, including the famed Jacob the Baker series. He has spoken and taught at the best universities; served as a Dean at UCLA, visiting lecturer at MIT and The Fuqua Graduate Business School at Duke University, guest professor of Philosophy at the University of California, San Francisco Medical School, and a Fellow at several long range think tanks including USC’s Center for the Humanities, and the esteemed Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions.

A highly sought after public speaker, he is also a private advisor to corporate and political leaders, serves as an Ethicist for the The Sansum Diabetes Research Institute, was nominated for the Grawemeyer Award for Ideas that Improve the World Order, and in 2007 his work in Russian translation won 1st Prize at the European Intellectual Book Fair in Moscow. Noah benShea is also the National Laureate for the ALS Association. He is has been the subject of a national PBS special, and is also the Executive Director of THE JUSTICE PROJECT.