And people wonder at my love for Jewish people. When one is absorbed in such psychological archetypes as found in Jewish history, how can one not feel awe and affection for the people whose history has traced out the truth of human experience? How can one not be thrilled to know the Jews are still here, in the land of the living? The truth about eternity, about God, about life, it was all mapped out in scripture. That map was written in their blood. The path is carved in their souls. Scripture is the record of Jewish experience. It is the manual of the human spirit. Scripture was created by Jewish experience. The Creator used them, for the benefit of all. Their struggles, their failures, their triumphs, their love, their sorrows, this is all sanctified. This is the Collective guide. This is the Archetype.
I find myself the beneficiary, at least vicariously, of the Jewish experience. How can I feel anything but appreciation and gratitude, and even a fearful reverence for Jewish people. Their personal problems? Their hangp-ups? Not something I dare assert, or delve into, or plead. God created them. I say therefore, beware God.
* Previously mentioned in this post
