This week we read, “Shlach, send out the spies.” It''s the infamous scouting out of the
Interestingly, this super-cluster has come to be a central symbol for
It is interesting to note that the place where the massive grapes are taken from is named, Nahal Eshkol, the Brook of the Cluster. There is a modern Hebrew term, eish eshkolot, a man of clusters. It refers to a jack-of-all-trades. The name is fitting given this Biblical image of the grape-clusters. For it seems that survival in this land often demands an ability to patch together an array – a cluster - of trades. It is astounding how many of my friends here work at several different types of jobs. Wild combinations of plumbing, accounting, grant-writing. Just look at my neighbor, Alon. I have four different cards for him on my refrigerator. He’s a carpet cleaner, electrician, social worker and taxi driver…oh, and in addition to fixing our dryer, he’s building us these gorgeous wooden benches for our living room. I kid you not, the man is a creative genius! He is truly an eish eshkolot…and this country is full of them!
As the spies said themselves, “It is a land that eats up its inhabitants, and all those who dwell there are great men!” Yes, admittedly, it is a challenge to live in this land, but those who chose to “go up and possess it”, touch greatness.
In the end, the mega-grape-clusters are an entirely apt symbol of
Eish Eshkolot There’s a mad man on the phoneCalls himself an eish eshkolA man of clustersA maverickA mavenFor making the most impossible a given
He speaks the gospel of the driven to G-din gardens untrodden but for giantsand all the old unforgotten fortresses of Goshencan''t hold him back from the Land he’s been promisedHe is Eish Eshkolotsome call him Calebsome call him Rabbi,
some call him rabidfor his tail wags a passagelike a pendulum between two pointsbetween the oppositeshis sweat anointsthe cut curse of earthto workto work ‘til deathdo us birthback to the motherwho may eat the fleshbut leaves the soul stronger
and the mad man of clusters gathersthe gefen grapesthat snake and splatterwine upon white facethat breaks into laughter
no fear of forceno tears disasteredcan shake this dog of faith
from the land of his master None but Caleb can lift the grapesinto clustered crowns of greatnessnone too magnificent for the tastesof this maverick in his madnesshe takes what the heavenshave bowed down to hand us and dances
Caleb dances But who will believe the boy that cries peace?Will armies of giants
retreat from the ants at their feet?The heart speaks the truth that our mouths vainly seekCall the dog dumb, yet Caleb’s plan will speakCall the dog dumb, yet Caleb will speak