An Erotic Hero: The Falafel Priest

An Erotic Hero, the Falafel Priest

Once — and I will never forget it – I unexpectedly stepped into the Holy of Holies at a falafal stand. We were returning from visiting my sons Eytan and Yair in summer camp near the town of Hadera in Israel. As we were leaving, my friend spotted a falafel stand. Now falafel is a fried Middle Eastern food that I am less than fond of, and hadn’t eaten one in years. But my friend insisted, so I conceded to go along. Surprisingly though, as we stepped up to the simple falafal shack, there was something about the shopkeeper that made me want to order a falafel.

I took one bite of the falafel and I swear to you, it must have been made in the Garden of Eden. I looked up and I was bathed in pure love. The shopkeeper beamed at my pleasure. When we went to pay, he asked for six shekels. My jaw dropped – everyone knows a falafel costs at least 15 shekels. And his was so unbelievably good. How could he only take six shekel? So I asked him. To which he responded gently, “Because that’s what I need”. That, my sweetest and most wonderful friends, is eros pure and simple.

To be erotically engaged at work requires only that you fully enter the inside of whatever you might be doing. When you do — whatever you work may be — worlds open up, opportunity knocks at your door, the angels sing and you are filled with joy. So full are you with joy that the delight has no choice but to spill over — into your fried falafal, into the person who stands before you, into the very earth at your feet. Joy joins joy, the earth brims with a new peace. This man did not leave his eros in his bedroom, he brought it with him to work everyday. Somehow, with this, he made his falafal stand a Holy of Holies.

marc gafni
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