This Was Never in the Job Description

Parshat Vayakhel

It occurred to me, during my lengthy hiatus of battling cancer, that many new subscribers have yet to read the onslaught of alternative Torah readings.

Now with a little editing, The JPF (ie Reuben) re-presents the weekly Parshas (bible readings) for another bout of mirth and entertainment. After all, if the Jewish people can read the same instruction manual for thousands of years, then why not the loyal and dedicated JPF followers?

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Parshat summary: “The Parshah of Vayakhel records the actual implementation of G‑d’s instructions on how to build the Mishkan (Tabernacle), recounted earlier in the Parshah of Terumah. Indeed, much of Vayakhel is almost an exact repeat of Terumah, the only difference being the details in Terumah which is prefaced with the words “They shall make . . .” which is now presented as “They made . . .”

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“No one is more miserable than the person who wills everything and can do nothing.” -Claudius, ‘Hamlet’.

Flies. Flies and heat. If this was the Lord’s work then maybe Daniel had upset the Big Man. It was all very well for Moses to declare 3000 people to be executed, but somebody had to clean up the bodies.

Daniel was surrounded by the remains of smitten heathens in various states of decay. The carcasses piled high awaited burial. Many were beheaded with a select few discolored from gold poisoning. One arm from a woman had come loose, fingers spread wide, forever caught in a reaching gesture. Her body stiffened with every passing second.

It could be worse. He could be engaged in the construction of the Tabernacle. He heard conditions under Moses were akin to being a slave in Egypt. There were no breaks, little water, and those caught napping were struck by lightning via Moses’s Rod of Justice.

Daniel had plenty of time to reflect on his journey from Egyptian Slave Assistant Supervisor, First Class, to a human excavator for the undead, no class. A smile played out on his lips when he recalled the week he had been crowned King of the Port.

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In the small town of Pikuat, Daniel was semi-in-charge of a two-hundred-strong chain gang. A private fiefdom in which he answered to nobody except his Egyptian overlords and his sycophantic Supervisor, Finkel ben El-Hadjid. What a toad!

Daniel’s Egyptian colleagues gathered around him proclaiming him their master as they clapped and cheered their new champion. He couldn’t believe it and became overwhelmed with a sense of belonging. At last, his supervisors were recognising his talents and commitment to work. He positively glowed from the praise.

Daniel didn’t like working with the Egyptians. They were weird. They had numerous foibles and formed strange cliques. His Supervisor, Finkel ben El-Hadjid, a fellow Jew, hated him. Daniel believed he was singled out simply for speaking his mind. Secretly, he was happy El-Hadjid was one of the first to die from Moses’s retribution. He was such an arsehole with his mocking tone and abusive language. El-Hadjid didn’t believe in G-d and refused to obey the Ten Commandments. His idea of worship was to strip naked and dance around a Golden Calf.

“And we all know how that ended,” smiled Daniel shoveling another body into the pit.

He wiped a bead of sweat out of his eye as the sun continued to blast fat rays scolding him like a punishment from G-d.

A large pit had been scooped out of the desert sand. A task that had been allotted to Daniel and his chain gang. All Israelites were equal in the eyes of G-d but some were granted a more favorable position in the eyes of Moses.

At the port, he was the last remaining Jewish assistant.

It was on a Thursday, Chase the Cock night, when the Egyptian overlords gathered around his desk and announced he was to be crowned King of the Port.

They pointed to a wall lined with hieroglyphics of previous winners. Each beamed with contentment as they stared back adorned with a crown. Every one of them a Jew. They looked incredibly happy. Truly it was an honor to be named the King or Queen for the day. “Must be a diversity drive” he told himself as he wondered why Omari or Sediki, both Egyptians and long-serving members of staff, had never been crowned.

Daniel asked what happened to his former Jewish colleagues, the ex-Kings and Queens of the Day, but nobody knew. El-Hadjid would avoid the topic and veer the conversation back to safe grounds. Daniel knew something was wrong but assumed his former workmates had found other employment schlepping rocks onto pyramids or forcibly chaining virgins for sacrifice.

“Have a seat Daniel,” Omari instructed, “we have to get you ready for your parade.”
“What parade?”
“Don’t worry about a thing, it’s harmless. All part of the new initiative for our working-men social cleansing drive.”
“The what-now?”
“Seashore fencing drive. We head to the waterfront and have a camel race to the death.”
“Camel race?”
“Yeah buddy. It’s fun. We choose an unarmed man and make him ride for his life while the rest of us cheer on as he’s savagely ripped apart by tigers. Him AND the camel. It’s like gladiators except no slaves or a coliseum. You’ll love it.”
“Whaaaa?”
“Kidding Dan, Danny, Daniel! Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

With that, Sediki told him to “smile one last time” as he inscribed furiously onto a tablet. The gathering tribe of Egytptians then hoisted Daniel aloft on a chair. He was last seen being led out of the port wearing a crown but no longer smiling.

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Fun times thought Daniel.

He had outwitted the Egyptians that night barely escaping the camel race of death. G-d had smiled upon him as the entire city was thrown into darkness thanks to a ninth plague. A short time later, Daniel left Egypt with the rest of the Chosen People.

And now…here he was… shoveling dead people into a stink hole. Life sure was funny.