Eli’s Story

This story is dedicated to those who bear the scars from wolves in sheep’s clothing. While the scars may remain, it is my prayer that the hurt and betrayal will be replaced with hope.  

Eli was a sad little boy. Not hard to know why. Growing up in Nazareth just before what they call the ‘common era’. And, he had a gammy leg, not sure what went wrong but it didn’t work properly. It had a mind of its own and couldn’t make it up whether to go forwards or backwards. Eli had to grab it with both hands to get it started and then it would kind of work if he held a walking stick for support. The worst part was being teased, and left out of all the games that Eli couldn’t be part of. 

Eli’s father was a kind man, but wasn’t around very much. He had a team of pack mules and would take local produce to the coast and bring back things from across the sea. Eli went with him once because his father wanted to see if Eli could manage the mules when he got too old for the work, but they both knew it was not going to be possible. 

Eli’s mother, Naomi, was a loving and gentle soul, and as Eli was their only child, she fussed over him, she wondered what would happen when she got too old to care for Eli, being on in years to be a mother. But that’s not the main thing she worried about. It was a man called Judas that showed up a lot when her husband was away, and she was upset about the villager’s gossiping, you know small-town talk. People with nothing better to do, saying things they imagined as though they were true. She would have put a stop to Judas’ visits but didn’t want to because he said he could help Eli get more use of his leg if he massaged it frequently. 

At first, Eli was happy with the attention and the promise that he would eventually be able to run and play like the other kids. Naomi was pleased that Judas was showing concern for Eli, something no one else did. For in their culture, sickness or deformity was a sign that Yahweh was punishing either him or his parents for their sin. This made her very devout, almost fanatical about the synagogue and stuff, but it didn’t give her any peace.  

But Eli’s happiness didn’t last. No, after a while Eli felt something was wrong, very wrong. The oil smelt nice, and the massage on his legs felt soothing but Judas was soon touching other parts of his body, and it didn’t feel nice or soothing. It felt creepy. Being only ten years old, he had no way of knowing if it was normal or not, and didn’t feel like telling his mother, and his father wasn’t there. 

So he said nothing. And besides Judas had told him not to. He had said something about having authority from the priests but Eli didn’t understand anything about priests or their authority. All he knew was the way his parents talked about them with such contempt, and his mother was upset about the way temple things were done. His father never went to the temple … Eli didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he had given up on Yahweh. His only child, after all, was a cripple. Or maybe it was because he was away a lot. 

Eli wished his father was around when it happened. Yes something terrible happened to Eli. Judas went into some sort of mad frenzy, spun Eli around and hurt him badly. Eli screamed, clutched his loincloth and ran outside the house. Judas chased him, grabbed him and held his hand over Eli’s mouth and said he was only trying to help him. Eli didn’t care if he was or wasn’t helping, all he knew was the leg can stay like it is for he wasn’t going to let Judas near him again. 

When Eli saw the blood on his loincloth, he knew he would have to tell his mother now. He didn’t care about Judas or the priests, he only cared about his mother and wanted her comfort. And the way she was able to make things seem right even if they weren’t. He knew she understood things that he didn’t and this was certainly one of those things. And he wanted her to tell him it was not his fault.

She did. Over and over. Naomi held him as he sobbed those confused, tormenting and angry tears. And she held him when the stories went around the village about a devil in Eli that Judas couldn’t get rid of. His father was angry too but didn’t say much. He brought his whip inside and plaited the loose ends together and Eli didn’t know why – it wasn’t for the mules for his father never whipped them, so maybe it was for Judas and Eli was kind of glad if it was. 

The weeks went by, months too, even years but the pain and the hurt didn’t go away. Eli’s father had the mules to attend to and the goods to carry, but

Naomi and Eli just stuck to each other, something broken in each of them. Not just their hearts broken, but a deep wound that wouldn’t heal. A deep hurt, and a deep confusion too, that made them both unable to trust anyone, not even the priests. They were too busy with animals and sacrifices to care about wounded people.  

However, there was someone who did care about wounded people, and

Naomi took Eli to talk with him. Eli wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but knew his mother trusted this man, and felt a sense of hope that was surely something they both needed. His name was Yeshua, a carpenter who worked with his father, and as soon as Eli saw him he was pleased – something about his eyes and the way he looked at you. And his hands, a working man’s hands, and he used them as though they were making music or writing poetry, the chisel or mallet took on a real beauty in his hands.  

Eli felt safe just being there, and even when Naomi left and went home, Eli didn’t mind. Yeshua’s father was there too, a gentle-spirited old man just poking woodchips into a small stove with a glue-pot on top. There was no need to talk, and this was a kind way to treat a young boy, for Eli dreaded being asked questions. Eli had no answers, and words didn’t come easily for him at the best of times and certainly not after being so hurt. The workshop was not a word place, it was a place where patient skilful hands made useful things that people needed. Window frames, tables and doors. 

The pieces of a big oak door were on the bench and after a while Yeshua gave Eli a small piece to hold, kind of like saying ‘I know you are here, and I am here too’. 

“It’s the best timber we have Eli, so straight-grained and stable. Not like a lot of other timbers that start out straight but get twisted and crooked. They go against the way we created them and forget what they were supposed to be like”. 

Eli wished he could grasp the depth of what Yeshua was saying, all grown-up like, but some things puzzled him and he felt game enough to ask: “What do you mean about the way you created the trees?” Yeshua didn’t look up from his chisel work, and Eli thought he wasn’t going to get an answer but he did. “I could answer that now, but better if you wait a few years and you will get an answer you will understand more fully. Time does that, providing we are prepared to wait”. 

“And what about my crooked leg, is Yahweh cross with my parents?” Yeshua just shook his head slowly, “Oh the things Yahweh gets blamed for; things he had nothing to do with, your parents either”. 

Eli responded with “But Yahweh is all-knowing and all-powerful, surely he could have made it perfectly?” 

“Yes”, Yeshua replied, “but Yahweh is also able to be weak, to submit to imperfect things, like walking with a limp to be with you. And submitting to men in power who want to enslave and control people. He has given us all the power to choose, and Yahweh doesn’t take it away when it suits him”.  

Eli knew these were perfect answers, and didn’t mind if he had to wait for years to understand what he meant by these sayings. When Eli told his mother she was so pleased that Yeshua was talking with her son in that way, exactly what she had hoped would happen. Naomi was related to Yeshua’s mother and they talked deep things of the heart together, in fact it was she who had suggested to Naomi that she take Eli to the workshop. Eli felt for the first time he was being treated as somebody worthwhile, not a boy with a gammy leg. A wounded and damaged cripple who was now regarded with respect and entrusted with deep things to ponder in his heart. 

Eli went to the workshop often, and one morning Yeshua and his father were holding up the finished oak door. “Just in time” they said as Eli looked at the door. “What do you see?” asked Yeshua. Eli knew by now that Yeshua didn’t just ask simple questions, he prompted Eli to look for deeper meaning.  “I see a door made in oak, the most stable and straight-grained wood that doesn’t twist” said Eli, and in a surprising surge of youthful wisdom: “And I see something that will keep things secure inside, and outside things kept out unless they are meant to be inside, then it lets them in”. Yeshua looked at his father, then to Eli, he held him in his gaze and smiled.

“The healing has started” was all he said.  

As far as Eli thought, Yeshua couldn’t know about what Judas did to him, but he did. Otherwise, he wouldn’t talk about the wound healing. Eli was thrilled. For weeks, he wouldn’t let himself believe that things were getting better, but now he could believe that the hurt would not last forever. When Yeshua spoke, his eyes and his hands had such a creative force that one couldn’t help but believe in what he said. On this particular day, with the oak door gone, Yeshua sat down with Eli and said “Time for a talk, just you and I and my father”. “What do you know about Yahweh?” Eli was a bit startled, but knew enough by now to never pretend anything with Yeshua. He had a way of already knowing everything. Like knowing that asking Eli about what happened with Judas would make him want to pretend he didn’t want his father to whip him till he bled.

“I really don’t know anything. Everything I hear in synagogue makes me scared of him, scared and confused. And not really wanting to find out in case he is worse than I thought” was Eli’s response. No pretending in that answer. Yeshua, oak-like, stable and straight-grained, placed his hand on Eli’s shoulder and said “Good answer, we can start there and build something that will last forever”. “The synagogue is not the best place to find Yahweh”. “The synagogue is for people who think Yahweh is separate from us, not within us” Yeshua said, his hand still resting on Eli’s shoulder. “Yahweh is like your mother’s deep love, and your father’s gentle strength, but unlike your father, Yahweh is never away”. 

Eli liked this idea of Yahweh, but had a question that had bothered him for ages, and especially now. “So where was he when Judas hurt me?” he asked, surprised at how game he was to ask such a thing. He needn’t have been surprised, for Yeshua loved people being game to ask hard questions. “Good question Eli” he said picking up an off-cut of oak like his hands needed something to hang onto while he talked. “Our fathers have sorted out a lot of questions like that, and they describe Yahweh as our breath. They say it is the best way to think about Yahweh – it does two things to keep us alive and stable. One, it stops us from getting proud and twisted, and, two it makes us grateful – glad we have this gift from Yahweh, this gift of life”. 

“Now, to your question, Yahweh was in you feeling your hurt, your shame, your confusion and trauma, even the anger and desire for revenge you still have. And in Judas too, screaming through his conscience to not do such a twisted crooked thing, but Judas did it anyway and may not get straightened out again”. 

“Yahweh wants for you to be healed completely, even of your whipping thoughts, and for Judas, restored to what he was meant to be. For you, that has already started; for Judas it may not happen until in Sheol, where the fires will burn away the crooked and twisted to restore what was originally created”. 

Eli was indignant and didn’t hide it. “You mean Judas gets restored instead of punished?” Yeshua heard the question but didn’t answer right away, in fact he paused long enough for Elie to wonder if he was going to answer at all. He did of course, in his own time. It was a long answer. “Yes Eli, I know you want justice, you feel if Judas suffers you will feel better. It is the way most people think because when angels fell from Yahweh’s home, they wanted people to think like they did and made Yahweh out to be an unhappy god that wanted revenge. To force people to think like them they needed power, so they set up two structures, religion and politics to control people. A framework that has created four things that are the very opposite of Yahweh’s thinking: division, in place of unity; competition in place of cooperation; conflict in place of peace; and tribalism in place of unique identity. A framework built on control, and one that relies on punishment and suffering not mercy and restoration. It is easy for us to think there is no other way, but there is, and that is why I asked what you know about Yahweh”. 

Eli was still indignant. He wanted Judas to suffer, and for Yeshua to help him get justice. This explanation didn’t cut it. Yeshua knew Eli wanted more than a lesson on politics and religion, and why people think revenge is the answer. “Try and separate the terrible behaviour from the person himself, and you can keep your fury for the action but consider another way to view Judas the person”. “And do this for yourself and your healing, knowing it is how Yahweh views Judas” he said. Then he gave Eli an off-cut of oak and said “Make something of it, something that will remind us of our talk about Yahweh”. With that Yeshua set about sharpening his tools ready for the next job.

The next job didn’t come. Well not in the workshop anyway. It was in the workshop of people’s lives, although Eli didn’t know this at the time. The only thing he knew was Yeshua had said all he intended to say, and Eli was left with a task of making the off-cut into a reminder of Yahweh. He had no idea what that would be, I mean all he had to go on was the idea that Yahweh is our breath – with us all the time. That thought however, was enough for Eli. He wanted to believe it was true, so reasoned that Yahweh would show him what to make.

He did. And Eli knew it was Yahweh’s answer. The oak could be shaped like a fork in the road; a decision point where one could travel either one, but not both. For that is what he felt as he pondered Yeshua’s words. Either he thought like most people and keep the idea of him getting justice and Judas getting hurt, or he take the other road without knowing anyone else walking it, or where it might lead. But for now, all he was doing was making the reminder, not making that decision. 

Some weeks went by before Eli was able to work on his oak. His father had tools for making mule harnesses, but nothing that would cut oak. So he went to see if Yeshua could loan him a saw and a file. Yeshua’s father was there on his own and listened to Eli explain what he intended to make. He just nodded thoughtfully, didn’t say anything but was happy to loan Eli the tools he needed. It felt good to be doing something he had never done before, and the sense of making something out of what had been discarded was special to a boy who often felt cut off from the mainstream of life.  

It also felt good to be doing something with his hands, where a gammy leg didn’t matter. He even said out loud that he would never again let what Judas did or his gammy leg define who he was. As he cut and filed the shape, he realised how much Yeshua had changed his thinking, and was delighted to see that his shape was more than a fork in the road, it was the letter ‘Ý’, and that it stood for both Yeshua and Yahweh. It also symbolized two separated things joining into one, like tracing the branches of an oak tree into a single trunk. 

When Eli took the tools back, he was hoping Yeshua would be there but he wasn’t. His father was pleased to see him and looked at Eli’s finely finished reminder, lifted it to his nose to smell the leather dressing, and said to Eli “My son would love to see this, he would be so impressed with what you have done”. 

“When will he be home?” asked Eli. The gentle old man sat down on a small stool and motioned Eli to sit also. “I cannot say, maybe a while, maybe a long time, and perhaps never” the old man said with deep sadness in his voice. “You see Yahweh has given him a job to do, to tell people what he told you about unity instead of division; cooperation instead of competition; peace instead of conflict; and to tell people that they have Yahweh himself inside them like their very breath. And to live like they are loved and cared for, and to show this love to everyone, including our enemies”. The old man paused, then added “He has some helpers from around here, men who used to be fishermen and I heard that Judas is one of them as well”. 

“Not Judas!” exclaimed Eli, “What if he hurts other kids!” The old man didn’t even look up and speaking to the workshop floor said “I think you know the answer to that question.” Eli thought he did … the picture of his father plaiting the end of his whip coming to his mind. “Actually walking with Yeshua, not just pretending,” the old man said, “means Judas will probably know who he was meant to be.” The old man asked for the piece of oak and ran his knarled fingers over its shape. “Well Eli, here you have a fork in the road, you choose to want Judas punished and he remain twisted and crooked, or you take the other path like Yeshua and offer him the chance to be restored to what he was meant to be. Don’t think it will be an easy road for Judas, in fact he may not get anywhere without dreadful suffering” he said handing the oak back to Eli without saying any more. 

Eli found himself walking home with a lightness in his step. Even his gammy leg was cooperating instead of being fractious. A lightness of heart too, and a clarity of mind that came from being given something to make that reminded him of Yahweh. A fork in the road, a choice that wasn’t easy, but an understanding of Yahweh that changed everything. Yeshua was the key to this understanding, and already Eli knew Yeshua and Yahweh were like father and son, they had been together before and the phrase ‘the way we created them’ made perfect sense. 

But the most amazing thing was his gammy leg … it used to have a mind of its own, but it had now made up its mind to cooperate. That too, made perfect sense.

Merv Edmunds

March 2023

Note: the reference to fallen angels, religion and politics comes from The Eschatology of the Restoration of All Things – the dawning of the age of enlightenment by Mike Parsons, 2022 (Choir Press)