Читать книгу The Rabbi of Worms - M. K. Hammond - Страница 14

Father Albert!” said Josef. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t know. But I suspected. When I make pastoral calls around the city, I see certain things.”

“Like what things,” asked Josef, looking warily at the priest.

“I’ve observed you walking and talking with a young Jew, a handsome lad with a quick and lively attitude about him.”

“That’s Mosche,” said Josef under his breath.

“Yes, well, this Mosche fellow must be teaching you something. You seem quite absorbed in conversation whenever I see you together.”

“Yes, Father. He’s teaching me Hebrew.”

“Hmmm. That seems a good thing. But you must be careful. Not everyone will recognize the value of what you are doing.”

“Who do you mean, Father?”

After pondering for a moment, Father Albert said, “I think I’ve said enough about that. Come, let me walk you home, and you tell me what you learned today.”

•

A few days later Josef met Mosche in the market square. He pulled his friend away from the crowded stalls and whispered, “Father Albert knows about our meetings.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“He says some people might not approve.”

Mosche frowned. “Why not?”

“I think it’s because they don’t want me talking to a Jew.”

“That’s crazy! Are you going to stop being my friend?”

“No!”

“Good. Let me tell you what I learned this week.” Mosche summarized for Josef the sessions he had attended on biblical interpretation. He told, too, of the thoughtful decisions given by Rabbi Scholomo in response to questions by petitioners. “Somebody told me the rabbi was named after wise king Solomon who built the first temple in Jerusalem,” he said. “I think our own Scholomo is the wisest man alive today. He seems to know everything.”

“Really? Would he answer my questions?”

“If you can get near enough to ask, I think he would.”

Josef wondered how that might be possible. How could he, a young boy who was not even a Jew, gain an audience with the great rabbi of Worms? Could he find out where the man was staying and sneak into his house? Could he stop him on the street? No, he would not be able to get through the crowds of admirers and petitioners. Yet he felt a strong urge to get near the rabbi, to see such wisdom up close, and to ask him questions that no one else could answer.

Josef lay in bed that night thinking about these questions. Suddenly it came to him: Ruth and Eliel lived in Troyes! They might know the rabbi personally! He would ask them if it might be possible to meet him.

The next morning Josef did ask Eliel, though he was not certain Eliel understood what he was asking. But the man nodded repeatedly and told Josef to wait for him at home after the midday meal. Josef waited out on the street, hoping his mother would not see Eliel return and the two of them leave together. They went to the schoolhouse and found it already packed with people. Rabbi Scholomo was sitting behind a table at the front, with a scribe seated on either side of him. Two men stood before the table, each making his case to the rabbi. When one or the other of them got excited and raised his voice, the rabbi waved his forefinger gently to calm the man. After he had heard both sides of the argument, the rabbi made a few notes, spoke briefly to the men involved, and stood to announce his judgment. As he spoke, the scribes beside him wrote quickly, dipping their quills repeatedly in ink pots and moving their hands gracefully over the pages. Without telling every detail of the case, the rabbi described the situation and outlined the general principles involved. He cited passages from Torah and Mishna. Finally he delivered a verdict directly to the two men standing before him. Neither seemed completely satisfied.

Other cases followed. There was constant movement in the audience as people came and left, but all present were quiet and attentive. Josef thought he would never have a chance to ask any questions of the rabbi or even get near enough to be heard. That was all right with him. He didn’t really want to stand in front of the table while all these people watched. His questions would seem silly. People would laugh at him. Someone might recognize that he was not a Jew. All at once he thought of Mosche. Was he here? Josef scanned the crowd but did not see a familiar face. No, it was better that he not be noticed. He would listen to one more case and then sneak out.

The next case was long and complicated. When it was over, one of the scribes rose and said the assembly would adjourn for two hours while the rabbi rested. Josef thought he would leave quickly before the doorway became jammed with people. At that moment, however, Eliel took his hand and started walking toward the front. They dodged back and forth through the crowd that was streaming in the opposite direction. People began talking excitedly, so that loud conversations echoed around the room. Josef’s head was spinning. What was Eliel doing? Where was he leading him? They seemed to be going toward the table at the front, where a small knot of people had gathered. Rabbi Scholomo was standing in the middle, shaking hands and smiling as people greeted him. Was Eliel going to introduce him? They stood on the side, waiting as people made small talk with the rabbi. Seeing the great man up close (though he looked kindly enough) caused Josef’s heart to beat faster. He became more and more nervous until it felt like his heart was in his throat. He could barely breathe. When all the other people had moved away, Eliel led the boy directly to the rabbi. The men spoke a few words in French which Josef did not understand, although he thought he heard his name mentioned. The rabbi turned to him and said (in German), “So! You are the little Christian who speaks Hebrew! My friend Eliel told me about you.”

Josef could not force a sound from his throat, so he nodded.

“And how old are you, Josef?”

Still he could not utter a word. He held up nine fingers.

“It seems you are a silent scholar. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I know many a scholar whose tongue outruns his knowledge.” The rabbi’s smiling eyes had a calming effect on the boy.

Josef was finally able to speak. All in one breath, he said, “Do you know everything? My friend Mosche says you know everything.”

With an amused look, the rabbi shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But the Lord often supplies answers to those who ask.”

“Could you ask him a question for me?”

“What is it you’d like to know?”

“I need to know . . . (here Josef paused and took a breath) who my father is.” There it was. He had said it. If anybody could answer the question, he felt sure it was Rabbi Scholomo. It was worth all the shame and embarrassment if only he could get an answer.

The rabbi shook his head again and looked directly at Josef. Now the man’s face showed no sign of a smile, but his eyes were full of kindness. He placed his hand on Josef’s head. “It seems you can speak after all! I am sorry your question is too hard for me. I have no answer. But from what Eliel has told me, you will be a fine scholar some day. You will find answers to difficult questions. I think you will make a name for yourself.”

Josef did not know why, but he felt tears coming into his eyes. Was he going to be a cry-baby now? Would this be how the great rabbi would remember him? But he couldn’t help it. He knew he was a bastard. He would never find out who his father was. Tears fell off his cheeks. Eliel put his arm around Josef and walked him to the main door. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked. Josef nodded. “Can you get back to the house by yourself?” Josef nodded again and went out.

•

Josef was glad he had not seen Mosche in the schoolhouse. He, Josef, had met the great rabbi face-to-face. He had had his chance to ask him anything in the world, and what was the result? He had started to cry. He had appeared utterly foolish. Josef hoped Mosche had not been in the audience, or if he was there, had left without seeing him. If Mosche didn’t say anything about it, then Josef wouldn’t mention it either. But the rabbi would always remember.

The next day was Friday, the day of the wedding. In spite of his shame and disappointment, Josef was excited. He had agreed to meet Mosche early in the morning to watch the wedding ceremony.

It began at dawn. A local rabbi and a group of men went to the house where the groom was staying. They called for the young man to come out. Some of the men in the crowd carried lighted torches and others had various kinds of drums and horns. The rabbi and the groom led a procession through the city streets, while those who followed waved their torches and played raucously on their instruments. Little boys ran behind the procession. Their sleepy siblings and elders watched and cheered from windows and doorsteps. The marchers arrived at the courtyard of the synagogue, left the rabbi and bridegroom there, and turned back toward the bride’s house.

The bride and her attendants soon emerged from the house. A new procession formed, more sedate than the previous one. As the bride and her escorts approached the synagogue, the rabbi led the bridegroom forward to meet her at the entrance of the courtyard. He took the bride’s hand and placed it in the groom’s. Immediately their friends watching from the street began throwing small coins and grains of wheat at the young couple. Three times they chanted, “Be fruitful and multiply!” Then the pair walked hand-in-hand to the door of the synagogue and stood for a few minutes while the rabbi spoke to them.

Josef watched in fascination. He nudged his friend and whispered, “They don’t look much older than you.”

Mosche nodded. “The girl is probably fourteen or fifteen, and the boy a little older.”

“Does everyone get married so young?”

“Most people do.”

“Why were people throwing things at them?”

“It’s supposed to make them have lots of children.”

“Do they get to keep the money?”

“No, it goes to the poor. Watch what happens next.”

Two men walked up to the groom and threw a hooded garment over his head and shoulders. One of them took the young man into the synagogue while the other led the bride out of the courtyard.

“Where’s she going?” asked Josef.

“Back home to change her clothes. She’ll look much different next time you see her.”

“What about her husband?”

“They’re not married yet. He has to wait in the synagogue until his bride comes back. It’ll take her a couple of hours to get dressed (here Mosche grinned), so he’s got lots of time to say his prayers.”

“I need to deliver some things for my mother,” said Josef. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

At mid-morning Josef returned to the Jewish quarter. The main street had filled with people, rich and poor together, families with many children, old men and women, everyone speaking eagerly of the upcoming festivities. It seemed the entire Jewish population of Worms was assembled along Jews’ Alley. But where was Mosche? Josef made his way to the gate of the synagogue but saw no sign of his friend. Well, that was all right. He would find a place along the street where he could see what was happening. They could talk about it later.

Josef found a spot and waited only a few minutes before he heard music in the distance. It was not blaring horns like he had heard at the groom’s parade early in the morning, but gentle, sweet tunes more appropriate to a bride. As the musicians came into view, Josef could see pipes and flutes and fiddles of all sorts and sizes. Some of the musicians danced and some skipped in time with the music. Following them came a group Josef supposed to be the bride’s family. They wore broad smiles on their faces and rich, brightly-colored clothes. Next came the bride’s attendants, beautiful young women and girls dressed in flowing silk gowns. In the middle of the procession was the bride’s litter—Josef had never seen anything so splendid.

Four men carried between them a little cabin balanced on two long poles. The cabin was open on all sides but had a shimmering pale blue canopy over the top, with silver fringes hanging from the edges. The platform, bride’s chair, canopy, and even the poles on which these things rested were decorated with colored ribbons, flowers, and greenery. The bride sat motionless, looking a little frightened, amidst all the splendor. Over a plain white robe she wore a pale silk cape trimmed with fur. Garlands of white myrtle hung from her neck, and a loose white veil covered her hair.

Josef could not take his eyes off her. She was beautiful! He stared, unblinking, at the bride as she went by and barely noticed what came next in the procession. Perhaps it was some of the groom’s friends. He thought he saw men carrying boxes and chests. Josef recovered himself enough to observe, at the very end of the procession, a small group of elderly men. They wore black and walked slowly, with great dignity. These must be the scholars, he thought. Yes, there was the tall man with silver hair and some of the others he had seen in the synagogue. And there was Rabbi Scholomo. Josef put his head down, hoping the rabbi would not notice him.

The procession wound its way through the streets, eventually arriving at the synagogue. Many of the onlookers drifted in that direction once the parade had passed them. Josef followed at a distance. He wanted to see as much as he could without being noticed. From a high place off the street, he could just make out near the synagogue door the young rabbi who had been with the couple that morning. The rabbi greeted the bride as she emerged from the cabin, took hold of her cape, and led her inside.

The rest of the ceremony and festivities Josef heard about later from Mosche. Inside the synagogue, the rabbi escorted the bride to a small platform in the middle of the room where the groom was waiting. The rabbi began by throwing ashes over the heads of the young couple, in remembrance of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. Four men took the groom’s prayer shawl and made a canopy over the couple. Then the rabbi spoke the marital blessings. He asked two onlookers to be witnesses as the groom placed a ring on the bride’s finger. After reading aloud the marriage contract and reciting seven benedictions, he offered the pair a glass of wine. Each took a sip. Then the bridegroom threw the wine glass against the wall, shattering it.

The groom’s friends cheered loudly, picked him up, and carried him to the wedding house where he was staying. His new wife, left behind in the synagogue, was expected to follow in a more stately fashion. When she arrived at the house, her husband was waiting outside. He took her hand and placed it on the lintel above the front door. Then he handed her his hat, coat, and wallet, to show that he would fulfill his part of the marriage contract.

Inside the house, the wedding feast was already laid out. Mosche’s description of the offerings—cold meat, fish, hard-cooked eggs, dried and candied fruits, potato pancakes, and crusty breads—made Josef’s mouth water. If only he could have been there! There was singing and dancing, funny speeches, and a variety of games, and of course constant eating and drinking. The celebration lasted until nightfall. Next morning, special hymns were sung at the Sabbath service in honor of the newly married couple.

•

Now that the wedding was over, the visiting guests began to depart. Ruth and Eliel took their leave the following Monday morning, but not before paying Josef’s mother a generous sum for their lodging. Rabbi Scholomo was going to stay another week, to hear more cases and to study with the Jeschiba students. Three days before his departure, having made judgments on all questions brought to him by Jews, the rabbi consented to hear cases brought by Christians and to give advice if he could.

Josef knew Rabbi Scholomo would be leaving soon. He wanted to hear the great man one more time and perhaps learn something new before the opportunity was gone forever. He and Mosche agreed to meet at the schoolhouse on Thursday afternoon. They entered quietly and found seats near the front. The rabbi was apparently concluding a case, speaking earnestly to three elderly women standing before him. When they left, he stood up and looked around the room. Seeing Josef, he gave a quick smile and nod of recognition. Josef felt his face getting warm. He glanced sideways to see if Mosche had noticed the rabbi’s nod and was relieved to see his friend looking the other direction. He didn’t want Mosche to know about his meeting with the rabbi.

When Rabbi Scholomo took his seat again, two men stepped forward. Once of them had a weary, shabby look about him. The other, a large barrel-chested man, introduced himself. “Mr. Scholomo, your Honor, I am a Christian, called by the name Frieder. I am employed as city clerk of Worms, which falls under the classification minor civil servant. May I present my case?”

“Yes, Mr. Frieder. Proceed.”

“For fifteen years my wife longed for a child. When she finally conceived and a son was born, she was beside herself with happiness. But, sadly, the child died of a fever before his second birthday. There was nothing I could do to console my Claudia.

“When two years had passed, our maid servant, a young Jewess, gave birth to a daughter. Soon afterward, her husband died, and as she had no close relations in town, she and the child came to live with us. It was a great comfort to my wife to have a baby she could hold. Claudia helped raise the child and loved it as she would her own. The little girl Hanna is now nine years old and has lived with us almost her entire life.

“Just a month ago, her mother, our maid servant, took ill and died. Hanna’s uncle, her father’s brother, is here beside me. As her closest relative, he knows it is his responsibility to take the child into his house. Yet there are circumstances that would prevent it. This good man has a large family of his own, which he supports by cultivating a small farm about half a day’s journey from Worms. The land is rocky and barely yields enough to feed his own children.”

Hanna’s uncle nodded slightly and hung his head lower.

Frieder continued, “But, your Honor, my wife and I have plenty in our house. We would be more than happy to keep her as our own daughter. In fact, I think my wife would be utterly despondent if Hanna were to move away. She lives for that child.”

Now Hanna’s uncle spoke for the first time. “I could not agree to such a plan without a rabbi’s judgment.”

Rabbi Scholomo had been listening attentively to all that was said. He seemed moved by the story, and, at the same time, deep in thought. First he turned to the uncle. “You were quite right to insist on a ruling in this case. Thank you for taking the time to travel so far to attend the hearing.” The man nodded.

“Now, Mr. Frieder, let me ask you a few questions. What about the little girl herself? What does she say?”

“She is devastated by the loss of her mother, of course. It is my wife who has been able to comfort her the most. When I asked Hanna if she would like to live with her cousins out in the country, she ran straight into my wife’s arms. It was hard to understand what she said through the sobs.”

“But you are convinced she would like to stay where she is?”

“Yes, your Honor. All of her friends and her mother’s friends live in Worms. It is the only place she knows.”

“Pardon me for this blunt question, but would you and your wife want to make this girl into a Christian?”

“Yes, your Honor, we would want to, of course. But Hanna is already a Jew. She and her mother regularly sat with the women in the synagogue. Hanna already knows large portions of the Old Testament by heart. Even after her mother died, she has been going to Sabbath services every week with an elderly friend of her mother. We would make no attempt to change this practice.”

“Does your wife agree in this? Would you both be willing to make a promise never to try to seduce the child into Christianity?”

“Speaking for myself, I would promise. I think my wife would do almost anything you asked, if only Hanna could stay with us.”

The rabbi breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He asked one of the scribes sitting beside him to bring him a Torah scroll. After locating a passage, he said, “There is no question this girl Hanna is a Jew, and she must be raised as a Jew. Moreover, Judaism can be practiced only in the context of a Jewish family.”

Frieder’s shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh.

The rabbi raised his hand slightly and shook his head. He turned to the scribes and asked them to put down their pens. “This is a very difficult case, and I could be mistaken in my decision. Therefore, let the ruling not be publicized outside this community.”

The scribes laid their quills on the table and leaned back in their chairs. The rabbi continued, “It is always easier to interpret the law strictly rather than to find a reason for leniency. Furthermore, close observation of traditional customs and practices often guards us against mistakes. For my own conduct, I find it best to adhere closely to every statute of the law.

“Yet we are also commanded to judge others in a spirit of righteousness and charity, and to weigh carefully the well-being of each individual involved. In a case such as this, the disposition to be charitable may lead to a lenient interpretation of the law. Such an interpretation can easily be misunderstood and abused. Thus we consider this ruling to be strictly local and not applicable in a larger sphere.

“For some time now, church and civil authorities in the Rhein Valley have been as generous to our people as we could expect. Half a century ago, Bishop Burchard of Worms encouraged Jewish commerce and allowed our people to practice their faith freely. The late archbishop of Mainz was another good man, mourned at his death by Christians and Jews alike. King Henry has given legal autonomy to Jews in some communities, and he is fair in his tax policies. The Christians in this region have demonstrated by their actions that they are reasonable people. Moreover, Christians are not pagans, but believers in their own way.

“Based on these considerations, it will be possible for the girl Hanna to continue to live with Mr. Frieder and his wife if the following three conditions are met: First, they must promise to make no attempts at conversion. Second, Hanna’s Jewish education and Sabbath observance must continue without interruption. And third, her uncle must bring her into his family circle twice a year, for Holy Days and for Passover. This can take place at his farm or, more likely, here in Worms when the family comes to worship in the synagogue. Are there any questions?”

The two men standing before him shook their heads.

“Then it is up to you gentlemen to introduce Hanna to her uncle’s family and to work out a method of communication between you. We close this case with a passage from the fifth book of Moses: ‘As an eagle that stirreth up her nest, hovereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her pinions—The Lord alone did lead them.’”