The Rabbi of Worms. M. K. Hammond
scrap of parchment given to him by the rabbi—Mosche was always looking for something to write on. He had written out one of the psalms, and now Josef was trying to decipher the tiny letters.
After reading a few lines, he heard shuffling noises from the other room. Joakim must be waking up, he thought. Quickly he put the scroll back in its hiding place and rose from his mat. He pulled on his over-shirt and went to stir the porridge his mother had left in a pot over the fire. Joakim would want his breakfast as soon as he came out. Josef scooped out helpings of oatmeal porridge into bowls and set them on the table. He sat down to wait.
Joakim emerged from his room, looking groggy and disheveled. He came over to the table and began eating. Josef felt a knot in his stomach. He knew if he tried to eat, the food would not go down easily, so he held his spoon and stared at the man sitting across the table from him. Suddenly Joakim stopped eating and eyed him suspiciously.
“Why aren’t you eating, boy?”
“I’m not very hungry.”
Joakim went back to his bowl. When he was nearly finished, Josef summoned every bit of courage he had and said quietly, “Don’t touch my mother.”
Joakim looked up at him. “What?” His mouth hung open, and the sight of porridge on Joakim’s tongue made Josef nauseous. He looked away. “I said, don’t touch my mother.”
“Who are you to give me orders?”
“I’m her son, and you leave her alone.”
“What if she wants me? Women like that always want a man.”
Josef turned his head back to look at the man. “If you touch her, I’ll do something to make you sorry.”
Joakim snickered into his sleeve. He picked up his hat and bag of tools and walked out.
•
Josef now knew all the Hebrew letters. He had learned to read and pronounce many words during the months he had studied with Mosche. At first Mosche had copied texts on any scrap of wood or parchment he could find. Josef was soon able to read the daily prayers and recite many of them by heart, as well as certain short Scripture passages. By early springtime, it was clear he was ready to attempt longer texts. This would necessitate his having access to Torah scrolls and other writings.
The boys decided they would meet at daybreak, before making their morning deliveries, in the schoolhouse behind the synagogue. At that hour, none of the Jeschiba scholars would have arrived yet. The boys would be able to use the teaching scrolls in the classroom where Mosche studied. There they could read aloud to each other and recite passages they wished to commit to memory. Later in the morning when the boys walked the streets, they could use their time together for reviewing and discussing the day’s readings.
This plan was working well. Josef made good progress reading through the first book of Moses. He loved hearing stories about ancient peoples and took special pleasure in the travel accounts of the patriarchs Abraham and Jakob. Imagine mounting a camel and crossing mountains and wide-open plains and rivers! Mosche had told him to sway back and forth as he recited verses from memory, and he often pretended he was swaying on a camel’s back while it loped along. The time they spent in the schoolhouse was enjoyable for another reason—Mosche frequently brought raisins, figs, and nuts for them to eat as they studied. He said students need encouragement and sustenance to keep up their enthusiasm for learning.
One morning they read about how the patriarch Josef was sold into slavery by his brothers. As they discussed the passage, Mosche told his friend not to worry, that Josef would survive and save his people from starvation. In fact, he would become a great man and a hero and chief assistant to the king of Egypt. “That must be why your mother named you Josef. She wanted you to be a hero like Josef, son of Jacob.”
“No. My mother says she named me after Josef the carpenter, who was father of our Lord.”
“What? How can you say that? The Lord has no father! He is the Creator of all!” Mosche covered his ears to shield them from further blasphemy.
Josef was alarmed. He shook his head vigorously and motioned for Mosche to uncover his ears. He would try to explain. “I didn’t mean God had a father, only that Jesus did. We call Jesus ‘Lord’ because he was the only-begotten Son of God.”
Mosche looked solemn. “You better not use the word ‘Lord’ that way anymore, at least not when you’re with a Jew. There’s only one Lord—it’s the first thing our parents teach us. Any Jew can tell you that.” He paused a moment and added, “Wouldn’t you rather be named after a great, powerful leader than a carpenter?”
Another day, as they walked the streets, the boys discussed ritual sacrifice of animals. That morning they had read passages in the third book of Moses describing how Aaron and his sons were to slay a bull and present it as an offering to the Lord. Josef was fascinated to read how blood was thrown all around and flesh cut into little pieces. Even the head and fat and entrails of the animal were to be laid on the altar and burned. What a mess! His mother would have had a difficult time cleaning up. “Do Jews today kill animals and throw blood around?” he asked Mosche.
“I don’t think so. We don’t have a temple anymore so there’s no altar to throw blood on.”
“What happened to the temple?”
“The Romans burned it down. Then they made all the Jews leave Jerusalem.”
“Why?”
“I guess they wanted Jews to follow the Roman religion instead of their own. It didn’t work though.”
“What did they do?”
“Wherever they went, Jews took the Torah with them. It was their protection against enemies who wanted them to forget about God. That’s why we have to study Torah so much.”
“What if people don’t want to study?”
“Everybody’s supposed to study. It’s part of our religion. People who don’t know Torah and don’t teach it to their children can’t be good Jews. Sometimes we make those people leave the Jewish quarter.”
“Why can’t they be good Jews?”
“Because you need to know the Law before you can obey it. In fact, everything we learn makes us better Jews. Our rabbi says all learning points back to Torah, and Torah points us in the right direction.”
“What if there’s no school in town?”
“One of the elders said a community with no school for children deserves to be destroyed. But I think every Jewish quarter has a school beside the synagogue. Some farmers live too far away to send all their sons to school, but they try to send at least one to live in town and become a scholar.”
The boys went on with their deliveries. After unloading a huge slab of cheese on the back stoop at the residence of a town dignitary, they sat down to rest. Mosche said, “May I ask you a question?”
“Okay.”
“Do Christians really kill and eat people in their churches?”
Josef frowned. “Where did you hear that?”
“Well, I heard someone say that Christians eat human flesh and drink blood sacrificed at the altar. So I figured somebody must be killing somebody else.”
“It’s not like that, really. The priest takes bread and wine and somehow changes it into the body and blood of Jesus. It still looks like bread and wine, so it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Do people eat it?”
“Some people do. We always sit at the back of the church and watch because my mother doesn’t think she’s worthy to go up to the front. But for the people who do go up, the priest takes a little piece of the bread and dips it in the wine and puts it in their mouth.” Josef’s eyes brightened and he looked excited. “I have an idea! I could take you to Mass at St. Paul’s so you could see it for yourself.”