Response To The Wandering Jew's Soliloquy Poem by gershon hepner

Were our primal parent’s errors not their own,
by God’s omniscient mind foredoomed, foreknown,
as Shelley claimed? Omniscience of God
is not a reason we should spare the rod
when people misbehave, since God’s foreknowledge
cannot, as great philosophers acknowledge,
act as an excuse for actions of the creatures
who, Genesis relates, share many features
that constitute the image that’s divine.
Once God created them He drew a line
between His knowledge and their misbehavior,
right conduct their sole duty and their savior.
Although He knows the future this does not
predestine actions that we should boycott,
and have the power so to do since we
possess a will he destined to be free.

Our primal parents wandered when they fell
from favor, but God sent them not to Hell,
where those who’ve never seen it say men burn,
but taught their children how they could return.
He showed them a divided road and made
two paths, both right, for neither He forebade:
One was repentance, one the right to wander,
seeking always what is far and yonder
rather than what’s right at hand. The choice
is one that makes the Jewish heart rejoice,
because it knows God’s wisdom does not force
the Jew to follow a predestined course.

This poem is a response to Shelley’s “Wandering Jew’s Soliloquy, ” which is the last part of a poem “The Wandering Jew” which he wrote when he was 18 and was first published posthumously, in 1831. In the last six lines of his soliloquy the Wandering Jew cleverly blames God for the Fall of Adam and Eve. My poem points out that God’s foreknowledge does not cause predestination, acquitting mankind of their offenses.

The Wandering Jew’s Soliloquy

Is it the Eternal Triune, is it He
Who dares arrest the wheels of destiny
And plunge me in the lowest Hell of Hells?
Will not the lightning's blast destroy my frame?
Will not steel drink the blood-life where it swells?
No — let me hie where dark Destruction dwells,
To rouse her from her deeply caverned lair,
And taunting her curst sluggishness to ire
Light long Oblivion's death torch at its flame
And calmly mount Annihilation's pyre.

Tyrant of Earth! pale misery's jackal thou!
Are there no stores of vengeful violent fate
Within the magazines of thy fierce hate?
No poison in the clouds to bathe a brow
That lowers on thee with desperate contempt?
Where is the noonday pestilence that slew
The myriad sons of Israel's favoured nation?
Where the destroying minister that flew

Pouring the fiery tide of desolation
Upon the leagued Assyrian's attempt?
Where the dark Earthquake demon who ingorged
At the dread word Korah's unconscious crew?
Or the Angel's two-edged sword of fire that urged
Our primal parents from their bower of bliss
(Reared by thine hand) for errors not their own
By Thine omniscient mind foredoomed, foreknown?
Yes! I would court a ruin such as this,
Almighty Tyrant! and give thanks to Thee —
Drink deeply — drain the cup of hate — remit this I may die.

12/16/08