Authors: Kenneth Wishnia
After a moment, I added, “They were definitely men’s boots. Much bigger than Federn’s feet.”
“Which way were they pointing?”
“They were entering the shop.”
“Are you sure?”
I tried to bring the picture out of the watery fog.
“No,” I said. “I’m not sure.” But I had a pretty strong impression. As if
that
would sway the magistrates.
“The frost will be long gone by now,” said Rabbi Loew. “We’ll have to reexamine that from a more intuitive perspective later. Right now we need to be strictly logical.”
The rabbi filled me in on the essentials of our strategy, while the breeze carried the tantalizing aroma of driftwood fires and the yearly ritual of matzoh preparation. The bakery’s sooty windowpanes blurred the combined motions of the meal-master measuring out guarded flour, the
vasser-gisser
adding cold water for the kneader, and the
redler
making holes with a matzoh roller three-and-a-half-feet wide—really a huge rolling pin embedded with hundreds of iron spikes. It would make a formidable weapon, if such a use were permitted.
I shook off the thought.
The rabbi sensed that I had something important to say.
“Yes? What is it?”
I hesitated, my feet tingling with cold. I didn’t know why it was so hard to speak about this. “Early this morning…I let myself get into a situation where I almost defiled the
kleperl
by using it to defend myself. First against dogs, then with rats.”
“Well, in these exceptional times, we may be called upon to do exceptional things. It’s just a piece of wood, after all. It’s not worth losing your life to preserve its
kashres
,” said the rabbi.
My breathing came back to me as if I had stepped away from the edge of an abyss. A different rabbi might have condemned me on the spot, depending on his inclination. Whenever a Jew seeks answers, he will find that Rabbi So-and-So says
this
, but Rabbi Such-and-Such says
that
. We are constantly introducing other interpretations of the passage under discussion. Even on the subject of resurrection, the Talmud refuses to provide a definitive answer, saying, “We will consider the subject when the dead come to life again.”
In other words, we’ll believe it when we see it.
Rabbi Loew said, “But that’s not really what’s bothering you, is it?”
“I thought you said we didn’t have time for this.”
“Don’t dodge the question. It’s not the law, but the situation you got yourself into, correct?”
The rabbi stopped and stood there, clearly expecting an answer.
So I took a deep breath and told him that the Cossacks had raided my village when I was barely old enough to go off to
kheyder
to learn to read and write.
“The whole
Yidngas
was looted and burned. Most of my
mishpokhe
were killed and the survivors scattered along with the ashes.”
The rabbi nodded knowingly. “And yet you were not abandoned in the wilderness, or devoured by wild beasts.”
We turned northward and walked past the busy storefronts. But I barely registered the sturdy women unfurling bolts of cloth and lifting crates for the customers while the men sat in the back rooms drinking tea with sugar and debating Midrash because women have no head for such things.
I told the rabbi that a Polish family had taken me in. It was heavy work, so they had to feed me. But they were cruel as only peasants can be cruel, and their children were sometimes worse.
“So I was just learning the
alef-beys
when most boys my age already knew whole tractates of the Talmud by heart.”
“You didn’t miss much.
Germany
is full of overpriced schools for rich kids who study Torah with Rashi’s commentary before they are ready for it, with no Prophets or Holy Writings, then skip the Mishnah and go straight to the Talmud, which they learn by mindless repetition. I ask you, what nine-year-old can understand the Talmud?”
“What about young Lipmann?”
“That boy is a true prodigy, and he’s following the regimen laid out in the Pirkey Avos. Torah at five, Mishnah at ten, Talmud at fifteen. But these days anyone looking for true insight has to leave the yeshivas and find his own pathway, as you are doing.”
He added that he’d like to see my book of essays on education reform. I was stunned that he had heard of it, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been.
“I don’t have a copy with me,” I said, very much aware of the sound of the words coming out of my mouth. “They might have one back at the old yeshiva in Kraków.”
“I’m sure they do—in spite of what ever else you might think.”
The Jewish Town Hall stood on the corner where
Beleles Street
widened into
Rabbi Street
, opposite the legendary Old-New Shul. I stopped to take in the sight of the miraculous stones that had come from the ruins of the
Great
Temple
in
Jerusalem
, or so people said. The shul’s high-peaked roof soared over the sunken roofs of the ghetto. In the rarefied world of the Talmud, the shul is supposed to stand taller than all the other buildings in town. But in the nearby world of the Christians, its spire could not rise above any church within the fortified walls of the city. When they built it three hundred years ago, the Jews of Prague called it the New Shul. It followed the same twin nave layout as the shuls in Vienna and Regensburg, but those two bright pearls were destroyed during the expulsions of 1420 and 1519, leaving only this one and its older sister in Worms as the last Ashkenazic shuls standing in the two-pillar style of the ancient temples. Over the years, newer shuls had risen from the floodplain of the
Vltava
River
, and the great synagogue was given its distinctive Old-New name, embodying within its very walls the mystical principle of the union of opposites.
Altneuschul
in German, and
Staranová skola
in
Czech.
It was the only freestanding building in the
Yidnshtot
, the only structure that did not seem to be squeezed against a sooty tenement with a couple of broken windows.
“So how did a Polish farmboy like you end up meeting a big city girl like Reyzl Rozansky?” the rabbi asked.
I woke up as if from a bad dream. We were still standing across the street from the Jewish Town Hall.
“At the fair in Kraków,” I said. “I was collecting books for the poor students, and the Rozanskys were shopping around for a suitable match for their daughter. Rich or poor, it didn’t matter, as long as the young man had some
yikhes
.”
“And you had some
yikhes
? How did you manage that?”
“They saw one of Rabbi Lindermeyer’s disciples speaking to me in the open market, and that was enough to satisfy them.”
Rabbi Loew nodded solemnly.
I would always remember my old master, the great philosopher of Kraków, as a logical and forceful teacher who was brave enough to stand up in a crowded room and tell the authorities precisely what they didn’t want to hear. And I suddenly found myself wishing that I could summon the spirit of my old master to help us argue this case before the Town Council.
“And then?”
“And then Reyzl came with me to Slonim and we shared the holy fire that holds the material of creation together.”
It seemed to be taking forever to cross the street.
The Jewish Town Council met in a cavernous room with a high-vaulted ceiling and rows of white benches for the plaintiffs, their supporters, and anybody else who happened to wander in from the cold. Three judges with gray beards sat on a raised platform, listening to an old woman plead for public assistance while the community secretary transcribed everything with a silver pen. She had no family left, her eyes were weak and her hands too gnarled from de cades of piecework to continue supporting herself as a seamstress.
The community secretary sat at his little desk, waiting for the woman to say something he hadn’t heard a hundred times before.
She asked for a few kreuzers a week from the community fund to keep her out of the
hekdesh
.
The secretary shook his head wearily. Nobody wanted to go to the poor-house.
The judges brought the proceedings to a close, and Rabbis Joseph, Aaron, and Hayyot were about to vote two-to-one against the old woman, when several of the spectators rose to their feet in a customary show of respect when they realized that Rabbi Loew had entered the hall. Rabbi Joseph took a good look at Rabbi Loew and switched his vote. The decision stood two-to-one in the old woman’s favor.
Rabbi Hayyot called for the next case. His eyes were gray and watery, his face drained. As the outgoing Chief Rabbi of
Prague
, he looked like he was counting the days till he could retire from all this.
The court secretary consulted the docket and called out the name of Reb Bernstein, a jewelry merchant specializing in Bohemian amber.
Rabbi Loew nudged me, and I stepped forward and addressed the bench.
“Your honors, forgive the disruption, but we have an urgent matter to bring before the
kehileh
—”
“Really? Well you can wait your turn. I’m next,” said Reb Bernstein.
“Submit your names and they will be put at the end of the docket,” said the secretary.
“Your honors, we can’t wait until the end of the day—”
Reb Bernstein said, “Neither can I, mister. Who do you think you are, anyway?”
Someone answered back: “Hey, Bernstein, he’s the fifth shammes.”
Rabbi Aaron said, “Why are we hearing from this servant?”
In ancient Hebrew,
shammash
literally means
servant
.
“Your honors, this man has no standing in the community,” said Bernstein. “He has no right to address the council ahead of me.”
Rabbi Loew cleared his throat. “Your honors, I have authorized Reb Ben-Akiva to speak on my behalf,” he said, deliberately using my Hebrew name to evoke the fallen heroes of the second-century uprising against the
Roman Empire
.
“Are you making a formal request that we take your case out of the prescribed order?” said Rabbi Aaron.
Rabbi Loew said, “Yes, we are, your honors.”
“The court secretary will note that Rabbi Loew has made a request for his case to be taken out of order. Reb Bernstein, do you object to this request?”
Reb Bernstein shifted uncomfortably. Rabbi Loew held no official position in
Prague
’s Jewish community, but he was a distinguished scholar and a known firebrand who was respected well beyond the borders of the empire. Reb Bernstein chose not to object.
“Very well,” said Rabbi Aaron. “The council will hear the case of Rabbi Judah Loew. Rabbi Loew?”
Rabbi Loew weighed his words carefully. “We are facing a grave and immediate threat to the whole community which must be given priority.”
Rabbi Loew now turned to me.
He was leaving it up to
me
to make the case?
I quickly explained, “The Christian authorities have arrested Jacob Federn and taken him to the city jail on a false bloodcrime charge.”