Friday, November 28, 2003
Sparks From Israel
Tourist of the Underground
I remember in one of my favorite old movies ‘Les Enfant du Paradise’ a bar scene of the Paris underworld of 1800. A place where street beggars would meet and the blind man would take off his patch to appraise some hot jewels. In south Tel Aviv among the ‘amcha’ the ‘salt of the earth’ you can find some interesting meeting places that are not found on the UJA luncheon itinerary. Broken down synagogues that used to be filled 50 years ago with overflowing minyans have now been reduced to the eternal flame; that flicker of light consisting of ten souls. And what souls!
To look at the rag tag group one would think he was looking at a group of sailors and thugs, but among them are also men of refinement and a rabbi who hosts a Shabbat dinner. After discussing the weekly parsha, accompanied by the main course, the rabbi picks up his sleepy child and returns to his family leaving this family of stray cats to finish their dinner.
The evening is punctuated by the arrival of an assortment of those who appear to be beggars but after hearing the words they have to say about the Parsha, I think maybe they are hidden kabbalists. The best words were said by one that I recognized as the custodian of a more affluent synagogue. After closing the gates of the shule he joined our motley crew and spoke words of Torah that revealed who was really the rabbi, and who was the custodian.
As the night unfolded and each mans stories and words of Torah were followed by shots of vodka to the point where one man fell off his chair and had to be revived I thought to myself how lucky I am to be seated among kings. Im not sure which one of them was Eliyahu Hanavi, maybe all of them. The man in the long black coat was lifted back to his chair and started to sing leading the group in a Shabbat song. Then from his fiery breath came secrets of Torah that could only be unlocked with strong vodka.
I left as a fight was breaking out. What kind of fight was it? Were they throwing chairs and punching each other? Hardly. One was telling about the great miracles of one rabbi, and another talked about the miracles of a different rabbi. Like grandparents who like to show pictures of their grandchildren, they each tried to surpass the other one over which brachas they received by which rabbis. Of course the rabbis they spoke of are no longer among the living, but I am sure I saw them all seated among the ‘amcha’ of our people smiling and whispering to each other. Who is like your people Israel?
Tourist of the Underground
I remember in one of my favorite old movies ‘Les Enfant du Paradise’ a bar scene of the Paris underworld of 1800. A place where street beggars would meet and the blind man would take off his patch to appraise some hot jewels. In south Tel Aviv among the ‘amcha’ the ‘salt of the earth’ you can find some interesting meeting places that are not found on the UJA luncheon itinerary. Broken down synagogues that used to be filled 50 years ago with overflowing minyans have now been reduced to the eternal flame; that flicker of light consisting of ten souls. And what souls!
To look at the rag tag group one would think he was looking at a group of sailors and thugs, but among them are also men of refinement and a rabbi who hosts a Shabbat dinner. After discussing the weekly parsha, accompanied by the main course, the rabbi picks up his sleepy child and returns to his family leaving this family of stray cats to finish their dinner.
The evening is punctuated by the arrival of an assortment of those who appear to be beggars but after hearing the words they have to say about the Parsha, I think maybe they are hidden kabbalists. The best words were said by one that I recognized as the custodian of a more affluent synagogue. After closing the gates of the shule he joined our motley crew and spoke words of Torah that revealed who was really the rabbi, and who was the custodian.
As the night unfolded and each mans stories and words of Torah were followed by shots of vodka to the point where one man fell off his chair and had to be revived I thought to myself how lucky I am to be seated among kings. Im not sure which one of them was Eliyahu Hanavi, maybe all of them. The man in the long black coat was lifted back to his chair and started to sing leading the group in a Shabbat song. Then from his fiery breath came secrets of Torah that could only be unlocked with strong vodka.
I left as a fight was breaking out. What kind of fight was it? Were they throwing chairs and punching each other? Hardly. One was telling about the great miracles of one rabbi, and another talked about the miracles of a different rabbi. Like grandparents who like to show pictures of their grandchildren, they each tried to surpass the other one over which brachas they received by which rabbis. Of course the rabbis they spoke of are no longer among the living, but I am sure I saw them all seated among the ‘amcha’ of our people smiling and whispering to each other. Who is like your people Israel?
