The Great Divide – Chapter 4
Read The Great Divide – Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Sitting on an Israeli-bound plane, Benjamin thought he knew exactly how Joseph must have felt 3,500 years ago when at last he saw his father after a 20-year separation.
Benjamin had experienced the gamut of emotions during his lifetime, but never had this many of them welled up within him at one time. Being back in Israel made him feel as though he never left; yet he felt awkward. Traveling by bus to his village gave him a great sense of familiarity; yet he felt like a stranger. He recalled his 23 years in the neighborhood where he grew up; yet it all seemed as if those memories were from another lifetime. As he climbed the steps to the apartment, he remembered how many times as a child he had dashed up those same stairs – two at a time – into Eliezer’s warm embrace. And now he was to talk to, and actually see, his grandfather a gain.
He had come this far, and now doubt was besieging him. Benjamin paused before the dark wooden door which looked so large and threatening. He was too nervous to pray as he lifted his trembling hand to knock, but couldn’t. He quickly withdrew his clenched hand and slumped on the railing. He breathed deeply and loudly. Finally, he mustered his strength and tried again. His knock was firm and loud, his actions swift, but almost something apart from his own will. It was as if he were watching a movie of someone else.
Silence. The possibility of Eliezer simply being out when he arrived did not fit into the script. Yet, he was relieved. It would give him time to regroup and come back refreshed and renewed. He also knew, however, that if he turned back now, he would only experience the same draining torment when he would return and hour or two later.
He knocked again, and waited.
And waited. And …
“Yes. Come in. It’s unlocked, Max,” Eliezer said weakly from his bed.
Benjamin recognized the voice at once. How could he forget? It was weaker, but distinctly Eliezer’s. Benjamin felt like fleeing; he might have if Eliezer had not spoken again.
“Max, is that you?” he asked, thinking it was his next-door neighbor. “Since when do you wait for me to open the door for you?”
Benjamin knew that if he didn’t go through that door now, he never would. He whirled, flung the door open, and nearly fell in. How his heart almost burst at the sight of the place he where he grew up. He looked around, absorbing it all. Then, suddenly, encouragingly, there was hope! Over the rustic mantel, where Eliezer kept the ancient photos and portraits of his past, hung a family portrait of Ann, Josh, and himself that he had previously sent to Eliezer.
“Max, what’s all the mystery?” Eliezer called. “Have you forgotten how to speak?”
Benjamin cautiously made his way down the corridor to his grandfather’s room. Lining the walls were pieces of Eliezer’s life since he came to Israel: the wedding picture of him and Rivkah, snapshots of Shlomo at various ages, the decorations and medals Eliezer won in military service. And there was Benjamin: There he was, as a toddler, making a mess of his meal; as a child, head buried in a book; as a 10-year-old, showing off on his bike; as a teenager, spinning a basketball on his index finger; as a 21-year-old with his grandfather, arms around each other’s shoulders as they dangled fish from fishing poles in their hands.
“Max, come and keep me company. I’m not feeling well today.”
As Benjamin slowly entered his grandfather’s room, he began to weep. The previous seven years had taken their toll on the once barrel-chested champion of Benjamin’s youth. What he saw was a frail, aged, and deteriorating old man. He was too weak to turn, his eyes too feeble to see beyond a few feet. The head of the bed was against the wall on the same side of the room as the door, hindering his view of Benjamin as he entered.
“I’m tired, Max, but not too tired for some company.”
Benjamin could no longer be silent.
“Grandfather. It’s me, Benjie.”
Eliezer lay so motionless, so silent, that Benjamin actually thought his presence had shocked his grandfather to death.
“I’ve come back to you,” he said, drawing nearer until at last he was directly at his grandfather’s side.
“Do you recognize me? Do you see me, Grandfather?”
“Benjie.”
“Yes …,” he trailed off, not knowing whether he should embrace the ailing man, take his hand, or just remain silent so his grandfather could take it all in.
“Benjie … how could you? I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
At this, he took Eliezer’s hand.
“I’ve always wanted to come back ….”
“Your wife, Ann ….”
“She’s good.”
“A Gentile?”
“You know that.”
“And the little one ….”
“Josh ….”
“… Gentile too?”
“Grandfather, none of this matters. Only that they love God, and me – and you.”
“They don’t even know me.”
“They do. I’ve told them all about you – many times.”
“Anything bad?”
“Of course not. What is there bad to tell?”
At this they laughed cautiously, but it was only a brief respite from the issue, the questions that needed answering.
“Benjie, you broke my heart.”
“No, Grandfather, you broke it.”
“But this … this … Yeshua! This Jesus” he said, slowly gaining strength.
“He’s real and alive and just as much for you as He is for me.”
“But … all the tragedy and persecution our people have been through because of the Christians.”
“No, not the true Christians; you know that.”
“Benjie, I’m sick, I’m old, and I’m alone. I don’t know what I know anymore.”
“Then let me tell you.”
And so he did – for hours. Remarkably, Eliezer listened, quietly, transfixed at the words Benjamin had practiced and rehearsed for seven years. He told his grandfather about his first days in America, meeting Ann, the courtship, and his salvation. He shared from the Old Testament, as Ann had done with him years before – Psalm 22; Isaiah 7, 9, and 53; and Jeremiah 31 – and showed him how they all pointed to Yeshua – Jesus. He then read from the Book of Matthew. How utterly amazed Eliezer was at the Jewishness of it. He read Romans 9, 10, and 11 and passages from Galatians and Hebrews. Eliezer soaked up every word until Benjamin could no longer go on.
“Oh, Grandfather, what more can I say to you? Can’t you see that you had no reason to survive everything you’ve been through had not God had some special purpose for you? Don’t you know that everything in your life, your family’s death – Grandmother’s, Dad’s – has all brought you to this moment?”
Eliezer could neither hold back the tears nor deny the truth of Benjamin’s words.
“Please, Grandfather, I know you believe it.”
Eliezer, unable to speak, nodded affirmatively.
“Then, please, say these words with me.”
As darkness fell on a hazy August Israeli night, Eliezer invited Israel’s long-promised Messiah and the world’s Savior into his heart. When they were through, Eliezer smiled at his grandson.
“So, Isaiah … it’s all true.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Eliezer gained strength one final time as his almost-forgotten passage came back to him for one triumphant finale.
“For the people shall dwell in Zion at Jerusalem ….”
Benjamin joined in as they recited together.
“You shall weep no more. He will be very gracious to you at the sound of your cry; when He hears it, He will answer you.”
As they continued, Benjamin realized that he was reciting alone. He gazed down at his grandfather, whose eyes were wide open, almost looking up toward Heaven. As Benjamin’s tears fell onto Eliezer’s lifeless face, he knew that one day he would be eternally united with him. With an everlasting prayer of gratitude to his Savior, Benjamin slowly reached out his hand and tenderly closed his grandfather’s eyes.
NOTE: I have attached the Word document if you would like to download it and read it more comfortably. The file is called, the great divide
David Ettinger was born and raised in a Jewish family in New York. After moving to New Mexico as an adult, he suffered through many trials. The nudge of the Holy Spirit caused him to examine his heart and in 1986 he surrendered his life to Jesus and has walked with Him ever since. David holds a BA, and MA, in English from New Mexico State University. He began his journalism career writing for The Roundup, the university paper. After graduation he became the sportswriter for the El Paso Times. He has held many other positions as both writer and editor with major publications. David is active in providing his skills with Zion’s Hope, Inc., in Winter Garden, Florida. His publications include Lifeway publications, Single Parent magazine (Focus on the Family), Zion’s Fire magazine, and Real Life magazine. In addition, he served as managing editor for Zion’s Fire and Real Life. David’s book, Overcomers: 30 Stories of Triumph from the Bible, is available online. David is proud of his son and grandson. Please read his testimony here, on his website.
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