On the day our sons chose a rabbi over him, my husband was furious.
I remember well how he stormed in, his expression darker than a sea squall, to tell me that some young rabbi had walked past the boat just as they were preparing the nets for the next day’s fishing. This rabbi stopped and looked at James and John, almost as if he knew them, even though Zebedee swore he had never laid eyes on the man before. Then the rabbi called out ‘come follow me’ as if he had every right to their time, hardly giving their father—who they owed their very lives to—a chance to object. What made Zebedee the angriest of all, was how quickly James and John dropped their nets and left him sitting there alone, without so much as a backward glance.Continue reading