Fishelman Work
Redemption Accomplished

פישלמן יונת השלום

A New Divine Comedy

November 5, 2015 – We judge actions by results. A smart move brings profit. A stupid move ends in loss. A comedy is a drama that ends happily. Suffering takes on in retrospect a joyous aspect -- it becomes a time of preparation and learning -- when its consequences are happy.
Hope is belief in a happy end. The present moment is painful unless there is hope.
What we expect the future to be shapes how we feel in the present moment. We judge our experience by the end to which we suppose that it is leading. We do not know the future. We make suppositions about it all the time to make sense of – to estimate correctly -- the present moment.
My life like your life is an endless struggle to maintain belief in a happy future. When hope fades, life quickly passes.
I laugh at the strangely persistent failure of comprehension of my work that I witness every day when I know in my heart – I fully hope -- that comprehension must come.
Emotions tend to be tomorrow what they are today. Emotional conditions and positions tend simply to endure: to pass from present to future in unchanged form.
I do not laugh at my life when I fear that my work is likely (with the endless continuation of how things are going now) soon to be buried with me in the cold, cold ground.
I laugh with real amusement at the absurdity of my life when I know that my future is bright. I am headed for a great future in the afterlife even (and especially) if I never have real success in this life.
When I take genuine pleasure from the hopelessness of my real life prospects, I feel inwardly sure, really sure, of a happy ending in this real life. Laughter is the child of really happy endings. Confidence in the afterlife generates security, a kind of serenity: indifference to one’s real fate.
Although I am always capable of smiling inwardly – I feel secure in my life choices -- yet I fear for the future sometimes when thoughts and feelings as if of their own volition anticipate the worst possible outcomes, and dwell on them.
The real home of human beings is this real life. We have a second home that wise people consider while alive in the world.
My life will throw off its dilapidation and its depressing, oppressive moods only after it comes to a happy end. When I am light at heart, I do not doubt that my life is already a reason for massive laughter.
The happy end is greatly delayed. The train is slow in arriving. There have been many side trips, accidents and detours on the Road to Redemption.
I have been telling Israelis for years that their suffering is no longer necessary, and the dead keep on dying. The living mourn their loss. They turn toward a silent, distant heaven and wonder why God does not lend a hand.
The offer of help exists; it is as if it does not exist. Is this set of circumstances tragic or comic? It depends on the outcome.
The trial of the Jews is over. Nobody knows it as the suffering and death only get worse.
My message does not get through. My fellow Israelis know better than to understand what I am saying. They are better people than that. They understand me. They see through me.
I confront the deliberate misconstruction of my message by people that are sure of the correctness of mistaken notions.
When people feel sure that they are being very very smart, they are being very very stupid.
Sometimes a horse with stripes is a zebra. A horse with stripes is not necessarily a snake in disguise.
My fellow Israelis have the intelligence of blocks of wood in everything connected to my life and work. They do not lack intelligence. Their minds are filled with sophisticated awareness of threats to the public safety from unlikely sources.
They are military thinkers. They are obsessed with threats to their would-be (alas, it never is) peaceful existence. They are filled with clever defensive ideas; for which cleverness they congratulate themselves daily; no, hourly. I could tear out my hair and weep.
Ignorance passes for knowledge. Half of what we call true is true. Half of our truth is a bunch of lies. Unfortunately, we cannot tell which half is which.

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