Both Judaism and Buddhism share an important metaphor — that of the jewel. In Jewish mysticism, the Tzohar is a jewel that seems to be lit from within. And indeed it glows with the primordial light of creation that it carries. Those who possessed the Tzohar possessed the light that is stored for the righteous, that particularly Jewish phrasing for enlightenment.
There are many folk tales about the Tzohar, some of which can be read in the collections edited by Howard Schwartz (one of my favorite stories, in the volume Gabriel's Palace, is called The Sunken Forest). The Tzohar, like the oral tradition it represents, is passed down from one person to another as is any esoteric teaching.
Some readers may wonder about the similarity to the word Zohar, which is the name of one of the most important books of kabbalah. I will simply note in this digression that zohar means brilliance or radiance. Tzohar means illumination. And kabbalah comes from the Hebrew verb root kbl, which means to receive.
In Buddhism the jewel is a central metaphor, much more than in Judaism, where it is merely a symbol in a particular mystical tradition. 
In the Anguttara Nikaya the Buddha speaks of the diamond mind, the mind that is strong enough to cut
through all delusion. And the of course there is the triple gem — the spoken formula by which all followers of the Buddha’s path take sanctuary. I have spoken the words of the triple gem every time I have started a ten-day meditation retreat. But unlike an esoteric tradition like that of the tzohar, the teaching of the triple gem is open and clearly explained to all. This is not the story of a hidden light, but one that is shared.
Why this long explication of jewels and Jews and Buddhists? Well, recently Jeffrey Hantover published a new novel, The Jewel Trader of Pegu, and one of its central images is a jewel that the main character finds.
The jewel trader is indeed a Jew, named Abraham, who wanders from his home in the Jewish Ghetto of Renaissance Venice to a small kingdom in Burma known for its fine gemstones. There he builds a small fortune as a trader of gems, and in his work he comes across a unique jewel that, like the tzohar, seems to glow with an inner light, that actually “pulsed with life.”
Indeed, Abraham does trade jewels when he settles in Burma. Having escaped from the confines of the ghetto, and of the calumny of Christians, Abraham begins to experience a freedom he never knew. And at the same time, he discovers a ghetto he never knew that he lived in — the ghetto walls that encircled his own heart.
In his talks with his Burmese business partner, he learns about the teachings of the Buddha. And he sees how these teachings are part of the lives of the people. This is a novel of culture shock. And one of the jewels Abraham trades is the tzohar for the triple gem. I do not mean to suggest at all that he becomes a Buddhist. But that his heart opens in a way that he experiences the Divine in ways that do not seem to him to connect with what his tradition has taught him.
Please don’t get the idea that this is a philosophical or religious novel. One could make the argument that it is historical romance, since the most important relationship in the book is between Abraham the trader and Mya, a young widow who is destitute. And the action is framed by the historical events of the time, an egomaniacal king who leads his country into ruin through his self-delusion. However, in the discussions between Abraham and his Burmese business partner Maung Win we see how each man discovers the beauty in each other’s tradition, the other facets of the jewel reflecting the one light.
As in any good novel, Abraham discovers that with freedom from the ghetto of the heart comes choice and responsibility. He realizes that “An ox yoked to the grinding wheel cannot claim to be virtuous for not trampling the crops in the field.” Freedom is no longer “just a prayer at Passover” for him, and he discovers its true meaning.
What is the true meaning of freedom? Reading The Jewel Trader of Pegu will give you a hint. It will also capture you in a story of people in love who are caught up in events beyond their control. Sound familiar? Of course, it is one of the few great stories in the world, and in this case it is told anew with masterful grace. Whether you are Jewish, Buddhist or another queer Jubu like me, you will find much beauty in this slim volume.
Comments