Читать книгу The Rabbi of Worms - M. K. Hammond - Страница 11

What was Josef to do now? His best friend Mosche was a Jew, and yet Father Matthias had told him to stay away from Jews. The two boys had been meeting early in the morning almost every day for several weeks. Josef helped Mosche unload heavy cheese wheels from his cart, and he had found other ways to be helpful as well. He wanted to do as much as he could to show how grateful he was for all that Mosche was doing for him.

Mosche had continued teaching Josef. Already they had worked through most of the Hebrew alphabet, up to the letter tzadi. Mosche had taught him many words, most recently words that began with tzadi, like tzedaka. It was the duty of every Jew, Mosche said, to practice tzedaka, to give alms to the poor and show kindness to the needy. It sounded exactly like what Jesus said. Hadn’t his own mother told him that Jesus taught us to give alms to poor beggars? Father Matthias had said Jews were Christ-haters, but how could it be that Mosche would hate a man who taught tzedaka?

Suddenly Josef had an idea. He would ask Mosche if he hated Jesus. If Mosche said no, then they could still be friends. Maybe Father Matthias was wrong—maybe some Jews didn’t hate Jesus after all.

At their next meeting Josef brought up the subject cautiously. “What would you think of a Christian who did tzedaka?”

“Perhaps he studied Torah,” said Mosche, “and that would be a good thing.”

“What if he was also a teacher?”

“You know that many of our rabbis are great teachers. We respect them above all others.”

“Have you heard of someone called Jesus?”

“Yes, he was a Jew and a rabbi.”

Josef could not believe his ears. “Jesus was a Jew? Then how could you hate him?”

Mosche looked at Josef with a puzzled expression. He seemed to be thinking how best to respond. “Who said I hate Jesus? He was just a man who lived a long time ago. His followers did some crazy things, but that doesn’t mean I hate him.”

Josef, who had been holding his breath, exhaled. “I’m glad,” he said. “Now we can still be friends.”

Mosche shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s do our lesson.”

When Josef returned home that morning, his mother was waiting for him at the gate. She looked agitated. “Josef, I must speak to you right away.”

“What is it, Mutti?” Was she going to reprimand him for staying away too long in the mornings? Had she found out about his meetings with Mosche?

“You know times have been hard lately. Since the price of grain went up, everything else has been more expensive too.” She sighed. “After we pay the rent and buy sewing supplies, we have barely enough left for food.”

Josef was relieved to know the source of his mother’s anxiety. “It’s all right, Mutti. We’ll gather more this year after the harvest. I’ll stay longer in the fields, and fill more baskets and carry more loads.”

“But it will be two months before harvest season is here. I’ve found a way to get a few more pennies each week. We’ll rent out the back room to a boarder. There’ll be less space for you and me, but it can’t be helped. I’ve already moved my sleeping mat to your corner by the fireplace, and I found another stool to put at the table. He’ll be taking most of his meals with us.”

“Who?”

“The boarder. That’s why I wanted to talk to you right away. He’s already moved in. His name is Joakim.”

Josef followed his mother across the courtyard and up the stairway. Once inside, he saw a middle-aged man with stringy hair and stubble on his chin sitting on a stool at the table. The man glanced up at them as they entered.

“Joakim, this is my son Josef.”

Joakim grunted.

She addressed him again. “Our usual breakfast is porridge, but I put a bit of sausage over the fire for you this morning.”

The man picked up his spoon. As soon as a bowl was placed in front of him, he began scooping large quantities into his mouth. His bowl was half empty before Josef and his mother began eating. Porridge and sausage disappeared together while Josef looked on wistfully. He wished he could have had just the smallest bit of sausage in his bowl.

Joakim wiped his mouth with his sleeve and eyed Josef’s mother. He rose from the table, picked up his satchel, and went out, saying he would be back for dinner. Josef waited a few minutes and then said, “Mutti, I don’t like him.”

“Well, I don’t like him either, but we need the money.”

“I wish he wouldn’t live here.”

“We really need the money.”

•

The following Sunday Josef had agreed to meet Mosche on Market Street, near the entrance to Jews’ Alley. Customarily on Sunday afternoons, his mother went across town to visit her elderly aunt, and Josef was allowed to play with his friends during that time. He was glad to get away from his house now that Joakim lived there. The man spent his leisure hours snoring in the back room or loitering in the courtyard, and Josef found his company disagreeable.

Today was the day Mosche had chosen for the ceremony to initiate him as a new student. Josef did not know quite what to expect, although his friend had told him he would wear special clothes and eat special food. Josef arrived early at the place they were to meet. He stood at the corner observing Jews coming and going along the alley. He had never entered the street or paid much attention to the people who lived there, but now he could see they looked no different from the people he knew. Many of the women wore scarves and some of the men had beards, but these adornments were not uncommon in the city.

When Mosche walked up a few minutes later, he was holding a small child by the hand. “Sorry I’m late. This is my sister Miriam. I forgot how slow she walks.”

Miriam looked up at Josef with wide, blue eyes. He was immediately struck by her intelligent, piercing gaze that seemed as if it might see into a person’s soul.

“Is she going to have a ceremony, too?”

“No, girls don’t do that,” said her brother. “But we need a female person to help with your ceremony. The first thing we do is go to the synagogue.”

The children walked less than a block down Jews’ Alley before turning into a courtyard on the right side of the street. A three-story rectangular building stood before them. Josef noticed round arches over the doors and windows, similar to most of the churches he had seen. But the synagogue had no tall spires like a church—its appearance was simple and sturdy. The building and the courtyard were both made of stone, but quite different from each other. The rough-hewn stones of the courtyard, grey and of fairly uniform size, had been laid side-by-side on the bare ground, making an uneven surface. The synagogue stone was smoother and warmer-looking, consisting of pinkish-brown blocks of varying sizes, held together by white mortar. Large, powerful corner blocks and finely cut stones around the windows and doors made the building look interesting and beautiful.

The children entered through heavy wooden doors with panel decorations. Once inside, Josef saw more pink stone in the floor, along the lower part of the walls, and in columns rising from the center of the room. The upper walls and ceiling were whitewashed, and that, together with large windows of clear glass, gave the synagogue a bright, airy feeling, not like the dark, gloomy interiors of churches.

Mosche went first to a small cabinet at the back of the room. He took out a four-cornered, wool cloth with stripes across it and fringes on two sides. “This is a tallit,” he said. “You wear it for this part of the ceremony.”

Mosche wrapped it around Josef’s head and draped the ends over his shoulders. He took Josef by the hand and led him to the other end of the room. Against the wall was a table with a silver lamp and a large, decorated box resting on it. “Here at the east wall, we keep the Torah scrolls in a wooden box called the aron. That lamp is kept burning whenever the scrolls are in the aron so we know they’re there. Now we’re supposed to read verses from the law, but since I’m not allowed to touch the scrolls, I’ll say some verses I know by heart.”

Assuming a solemn demeanor, he began to sway and chant.

“And the Lord spoke unto Moses, saying, Speak unto all the congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto them, Ye shall be holy; for I the Eternal your God am holy. Ye shall revere, every man, his mother and his father, and my Sabbaths shall ye keep: I am the Lord your God. Ye shall not turn unto the idols, and molten gods ye shall not make unto yourselves: I am the Lord your God. And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather up the gleanings of thy harvest. And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, and the single grapes that drop in thy vineyard shalt thou not gather up; for the poor and the stranger shalt thou leave them: I am the Lord your God. Ye shall not steal; neither shall ye deny another’s property in your hands, nor lie to one another. And ye shall not swear by my name falsely, and thou shalt not thus profane the name of thy God: I am the Lord. Thou shalt not withhold anything from thy neighbor, nor rob him: there shall not abide with thee the wages of him that is hired, through the night until morning. Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling-block before the blind; but thou shalt be afraid of thy God: I am the Lord.”

Mosche stopped reciting. “Okay, that’s enough. Do you have any questions?”

“What are ‘gleanings’?”

“Just bits and pieces of crops farmers leave in the fields for poor people to pick up.”

Josef remembered the times he and his mother had gone into the fields when their food supply ran low. He asked no more questions.

Mosche lifted the tallit off Josef’s head, folded it carefully, and placed it back in the cabinet. “Next comes the fun part,” he said. “We go to the teacher’s house to taste the sweetness of the law.”

The children followed Jews’ Alley until they came to an old gate in the city wall. They went through the gate and walked a few hundred paces along the outside of the wall until they reached a small hut set against the stonework.

“This is your teacher’s house,” said Mosche proudly. “I don’t really live here, but I keep my things here.”

“Did you build it?”

“Not exactly. It was a shelter for shepherds, I think. But it was falling down, and I fixed it up.”

The children entered the hut. A thick layer of fresh straw had been laid on the floor. Josef inhaled deeply the sweet aromas of the place. Was it the straw he smelled, or something else? Perhaps something freshly baked? In the corner he saw several rough, wooden boxes with various items stacked on top, a wash basin, some clothes, and plates of food.

Mosche pointed at the wash basin. “First you wash your hands and your face. Then put on a clean shirt and we’ll start the second part of the ceremony.”

Josef did as he was told.

“Okay,” Mosche said. “Now I’m going to put honey on my slate, and you have to lick it off and say the verse that’s written on the slate. Today we’ll use ordinary language, but later you’ll learn it in Hebrew.” He dipped a stick into a small jar of honey and smeared it on a corner of the slate. “Now lick the honey and say these words after me: ‘How much sweeter to my palate are thy sayings than honey to my mouth!’”

Josef licked the honey and repeated, “How much sweeter to my palate are thy sayings than honey to my mouth.”

“Good. Miriam will help us with the next part. You’re supposed to eat three cakes kneaded in honey by a virgin, and also some eggs and fruit.”

“What’s a virgin?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it means a young woman or girl. Anyway, my mother baked these cakes, and she’s a good cook. Miriam will dip them in honey and feed them to you. Are you ready?”

“Yup.”

Miriam picked up the cakes, dipped them in the jar of honey, and stuffed them, one after another, into Josef’s mouth. Meanwhile, Mosche peeled three hard-cooked eggs and presented them to Josef, along with an apple and some blackberries.

“You eat while I say more verses.”

“Can Miriam have some too?”

Mosche nodded and began reciting. “And he said unto me, Son of man, feed thy belly, and fill thy bowels with this roll that I am giving unto thee. And I ate it; and it was in my mouth like honey in sweetness. Open thou my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. Oh how do I love thy law! all the day it is my meditation. A lamp unto my feet is thy word, and a light unto my path. The opening of thy words giveth light, it giveth understanding unto the simple.”

After Mosche finished his recitation, he joined the others in eating the berries that remained. When they were done, he said, “Now change back into your own shirt. For the last part of the ceremony, we go down to the river.”

“I’m not allowed to get in the water,” said Josef.

“Don’t worry. We’ll just go to the edge and look.”

The children left the hut and walked down gentle slopes on a narrow pathway through fields and vineyards. They arrived at a promontory overlooking the wide river. A few small fishing boats were anchored against the steady current. Mosche explained to Josef that Torah is like water. “It feeds us, and refreshes us, and gives us life. Do you have any questions?”

Josef shook his head.

“Okay. Then I will say one more verse and the ceremony will be over. ‘When Israel was yet young, then I loved him, and out of Egypt did I call my son.’ That’s the end. Now you’re ready to be a scholar.”

Josef beamed. The children stayed at the river bank, dangling their legs off the rock and watching fishermen cast their nets from stationary boats. Occasionally a large transport barge floated past, carried along by powerful currents. They said little to one another, but Josef could feel a strong bond growing between himself and Mosche. Here was a boy who loved what he loved and thought as he thought. He had never yet had such a friend. It made him feel he belonged, like he had a purpose and a goal other than just hauling water day after day. He hoped some day he could be a real scholar and know as many verses from Scripture as Mosche.

After a time, the children made their way back through the fields, entered the city gate, and passed into the Jewish quarter. Mosche and Miriam left the main road and went home, while Josef continued along Jews’ Alley until he reached Market Street. He turned toward his house, feeling happy and confident. He would be a scholar! He would read many books and learn about everything under the sun! His world seemed much larger than it had before.

Walking along Market Street, he heard a familiar whistle. All at once, three boys jumped out and stood in his path. Josef stopped, looked up at them, and took a deep breath. When they started taunting him, he ignored them. He kept walking forward, not hearing a word they said, and barely noticed their pokes and jabs.

•

One morning it took longer than usual for Mosche and Josef to make their deliveries. They had already completed the daily lesson and were talking about other things. Suddenly Josef became serious and turned to his friend. “Do you know what a bastard is?”

“Yes. I think it’s a person whose mother and father are not married.”

“But what if a person has no father?”

“Everybody has a father. It’s impossible to be born without one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a woman has to lie with a man before she can have a baby. Whoever it is she lies with, he’s the father.”

“So, if my mother is not married, that means I’m a bastard.”

Mosche was silent for a minute. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The boys walked on without speaking, until Mosche said, “Listen. Our great rabbi Scholomo says that a man who teaches is like a father, and his students are called children. That makes me your father.”

“You can’t be my father. You’re just a kid, like me.”

“Not your real father, of course, but your teacher-father. Rabbi Scholomo says a teacher gives birth to a student and makes him a new man, almost like a new baby coming into the world. It’s in Scripture, too. When the Lord commands a person to teach Torah diligently to his children, the rabbi says it means his students.”

“Okay. What if I agree for you to be my teacher-father? What then?”

“Don’t you see? You’ll have two families, one with a mother and one with a father.”

Josef wanted to think about this for awhile.

“Who is Rabbi Scholomo, anyway?”

“Rabbi Scholomo ben Itzhak. He lived in Worms and studied here for a long time. Everybody knows about him. He is such a wise man that people came here from all over the world to ask him questions, even Christians.”

“Where does he live now?”

“He started his own school in Troyes. It’s called a Jeschiba, where lots of scholars get together and talk about important things. But he comes back to visit his friends in Worms, and we still call him ‘our rabbi’.”

“Have you met him?”

“Not yet. He lived here before I was born, and last time he came, I was sick. I’ll meet him some day. Does the butcher shop near you have flies?”

“What?”

“Have you noticed any flies in the butcher shop near your house?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because Rabbi Scholomo lived in a house outside the Jewish quarter, near a butcher shop. People say the butcher shop never had flies. It could have been your house.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“His parents lived in Worms before he was born. The old people in my neighborhood remember a story about his mother when she was expecting a baby. A runaway horse pulling a carriage behind it was galloping toward her, and she was afraid she would be killed, and the baby too. So she pushed against a wall behind her and it sank back and protected her. You can still see the sunken place in a wall near the synagogue.”

“What happened then?”

“Her husband Itzhak was afraid she would be called a witch, and so he took the family to live in Troyes. That’s where their son was born. He grew up and became our great rabbi. We still call him the ‘rabbi of Worms’.”

“What makes him so great?”

“His knowledge and wisdom. He can speak five or six languages and knows all about science. And he writes notebooks that explain Scripture and other holy books. He makes words of Torah so clear that even my sister can understand.”

Josef had much to think about as he walked home that day. Apparently he did have a father after all, but his father did not live with them. Who could it be? Why did the man not marry his mother? Mosche had offered to be his father (sort of) and give him another family. Josef would have loved to have a brother like Mosche, to go to school with him every day and to read books with him after school. The two of them together could meet the great rabbi from Troyes when he came to visit and maybe even hear him teach. There was so much to learn, and now that Josef could read simple texts, his desire was growing. He wanted to read and understand every book that was ever written. He wanted to learn from great teachers and have long discussions about books he read. But all this would have to wait. He had to work every day of the week except Sunday.

Only on Saturday afternoons was time set aside for him to meet with Father Albert and learn about Church doctrine. He had already memorized two things, the Our Father and the creed from Nicaea. The old priest had explained them as best he could. The Our Father contained seven petitions, he said, and they had talked about all seven of them. Seven must be an important number because Father Albert had told him he would learn seven beatitudes, and seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, and seven principal virtues. There was also a list of mortal sins he had to memorize. So many lists! Josef wished he could learn Latin right away and start reading, but Father Matthias had said he needed to learn Church doctrine first. Well, at least Father Albert was a kind man, and funny too. Josef enjoyed spending time with him.

One Saturday afternoon in late fall, Josef met Father Albert in the garden by St. Paul’s Church. When it was rainy or cold, they would do their lesson in a small room in the basement of the church. But today the sun was bright and the air was unusually warm, and so they met outdoors. At Father Albert’s request, Josef recited the creed. For this lesson they would talk about Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God.

“What does ‘begotten’ mean?” asked Josef.

“It means he grew in his mother’s womb, like you did.”

“Did Jesus have a father who was married to his mother?”

“Yes, his mother married a good man named Josef. You are privileged to share his name.”

“Did he lie with her?”

“No, Josef did not beget the child. Rather, it was a miracle of the Holy Spirit. Jesus came down from heaven and entered the womb of the Virgin Mary.”

“What’s a virgin?”

“A virgin is a young woman who has never lain with a man.”

“Then who was Jesus’ father?”

“God is his Father.”

“Like God is my father?”

“Not in precisely the same way. But we are all children of God, created in his image.”

Josef was confused. Jesus’ mother was married, and so the man was Jesus’ father. But the man was not Jesus’ father, because Jesus came down from heaven. God was his father, but not in the same way he was everyone else’s father. And all of us were like the image of God. What could it mean? Josef shook his head and looked bewildered.

Father Albert chuckled. “Don’t worry, my son. There are mysteries that even the great doctors of the Church cannot understand. But if you learn something very well and let it sit in your head for a long time, you may come to understand it better.”

There was one question Josef wanted to ask that might have a simple answer. “Is it true that Jesus was a Jew?”

“Why, yes. He was the Messiah who had been promised to the Jews.”

This raised more questions in Josef’s mind. Why had Father Matthi-as told him Jews were Christ-haters? If they were, what made them hate one of their own people, their own Messiah? Why should Christians worship one Jew but be required to stay away from other Jews? Josef thought he’d better not ask any more questions. Father Albert might get annoyed with him, and besides, it was time to go home.

Late that evening, Josef was lying on his mat, thinking about his discussion with Father Albert, when he saw something that disturbed him. While his mother was cleaning and putting away dishes, Joakim, the man who slept in the back room, hovered around her. A couple of times he brushed against her, and once he curled his arm around her hips and put his hand on her belly. She pushed him away, but he got close again and mumbled something to her. Then he grinned and licked his lips before retiring to his room. Josef did not rest well that night.