Time for a story / The Miraculous Paper

Continued from last week.

PART TWO

As we attended to our business during the day, wee could not forget the vision of those two proud, majestically clad Jews.

When we returned to the hotel that evening, we stopped into the dining room for tea. The two commanders were fervently praying at the same wall where they stood that morning. Their voices chanted the hauntingly tragic melody of Lamentations, recited on Tishah B’Av, mourning the destruction of both Holy Temples. They were no longer standing triumphant and proud; they were shamefaced and stooped. When they stepped away from the wall, we saw that their eyes were red, tears overflowing; their faces bore grievous pain.

My father could not restrain himself. He had to make himself known to these strangers. He quickly removed his fine fur hat and replaced it with his yarmulke. He pulled out his tzitzit from under his shirt. When the commanders saw that we were Jews, they approached. My father asked them in Hebrew: “Me Ahtehm?” (“Who are you?”)

One of the commanders responded: “We are representatives of the ten lost tribes, the ten holy tribes of Israel. We were invited by the Russian government to help them deal with Russian Jews, for the majority of the world’s Jews live in the Pale of Settlement. We have spent a great deal of time here, visiting one shtetl after another. We concluded that the only solution to the Tzar’s problem would be Messianic redemption; but the Messiah will come only when the pain of exile is so great that it can no longer be borne.

“What we found on our travels is that the anguished sighs of our people, living under Russian oppression, is so great; it is even difficult for our people to open their mouths in praise of G-d. Our people are existing in a state of total despair. Our people are so yearning to return to our land. We were actually waiting for the Heavenly court to announce the redemption of the Jewish people from this bitter exile.

“We were prepared to lead them back to the holy land. Know that every morning the deeds of the world are weighed on the scale of justice. It must be determined by the Heavenly Court if the world is truly ready for redemption. Usually, the evil deeds outweigh the good deeds, so redemption is delayed. But this morning, we were so joyful; we thought that good deeds outweighed evil deeds. We were expecting to leave! Our mission would have been achieved.”

“What happened?” interrupted my father.

“Somewhere, in one corner of the world, one person murdered his brother. The scale of justice was no longer balanced. Evil deeds once again outweighed good deeds.

“You should know that G-d has special love for His people only when they are unified and not jealous of each other, when they work together for the common good, when they satiate their hunger, not with bread but with yearning for the word of G-d. When murder occurs in the world, when needless hatred exists, obviously the people are not unified. Destruction replaces redemption, even if it is destined, even if it is impending. Redemption was once again delayed.”

My father pleaded: “Please give me a sign that I have met representatives of the ten lost tribes, the ten holy tribes of Israel, that Messianic redemption is on the way, albeit delayed. When my business trip is concluded, we will return to our shtetl. It will probably be around the time of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. I want to be able to tell my brothers that I met representatives of the ten lost tribes, the ten holy tribes of Israel. I want to share with them what you explained to me; that we have to work harder to earn Messianic redemption. It is within the power of our hands, our actions, to achieve holiness by the way we live and act. When that murder occurred, the accumulated merit pointing toward redemption dissolved. We have to be very careful not to act in any way which lowers the level of holiness necessary for redemption.”

The commander removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to my father. My father examined the paper. It was blank. He was stunned.

The commander explained. “The paper is blank now, but your rebbe, Rebbe Mordechai Neschizer, will be able to read it. He is one of the few people in the world, which included our patriarch Yaakov and the prophet Y’chezkel, who understand about Messianic redemption. Tell him how and why we met. Tell him that he is to read the paper by the light of the moon, immediately following the sounding of the shofar after Yom Kippur. He will know how to read what is inscribed on this paper.”

The commanders bid us farewell; we concluded our business and returned to Neshciz, just prior to Rosh Hashanah. My father turned the blank paper over to his rebbe. We anxiously counted the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Following the sounding of the shofar, the rebbe signaled to the entire congregation to go outdoors.

He lifted the paper to the light of the moon. He began to read: “Mordechai ben Dov Ber.” Everyone knew that this was his name and the name of his father. The silence was heavy with expectation. He continued to read the names of his ancestors, one by one, all the way back to Avraham Ahvinu. Then he re-read his name and the names of his children: Yosayf ben Mordechai, Yaakov Aryeh ben Mordechai, Yitzchak ben Mordechai. He added the names of his grandchildren and their children, many future generations, yet unborn. Then he strained to lift the paper, higher and higher.

Suddenly, he stopped reading. “A candle,” he said. “Bring me a candle.”

He held the candle very close to the paper, as if straining to see the words. He seemed to be frightened. We were standing very close to him; we saw tears dropping from his eyes. He wailed a pitiable sigh of woe, then mournfully, groaning “shalom, shalom,” with trembling hand, he placed the candle near the edge of the paper and burned it.

Rabbi Eugene, z”l, and Dr. Annette Labovitz traveled to Jewish communities worldwide collecting stories and teaching through them about the Jewish experience. These stories were published in five books which are currently out of print. Dr. Labovitz resides in Woodmere and gives a weekly shiur on Tanach at Congregation Aish Kodesh. This story is from “The Legendary Maggidim — Stories of Soul and Spirit,” published by Targum-Feldheim.