A Jewish Journey. Sheldon Cohen
in? Who created the oceans, the forests, and the mountains? Who put all kind of living things here? Who made us boss over all the creatures of the earth? Who made us able to think and understand that there is a tomorrow?”
“God did,” said Yanov.
“Do you believe, Yanov, that God would build a house or a world without plans?”
“Uh, no, rabbi.”
“Good, Yanov. Tell me, please, what were the plans that God used in order to build a world? What plans did he draw so that we’ll all be told how to live a good life of peace and love?”
“The Ten Commandments,” said Aryeh before Yanov could answer.
“The Torah—the five books of rules,” offered Abraham.
“You’re both right,” he said as his eyelids closed and his head tilted back and pointed toward heaven. After several moments of silence he continued. “The Torah was in heaven before God gave it to Moses, and the Torah was in heaven even before the world was created. Just like your home has to be built after you make the plans, so the world could only be built after the Torah, for the Torah is our plan for living on the earth that God made for us. God used the Torah to build the earth. He did not build the earth first and then develop a Torah. Do you understand?”
As if one they said, “Yes, rabbi.”
“Never forget that the world was created for the sake of the Torah. It is the Torah of the Most Holy. God gave it to Moses so that Israel will be a kingdom of priests and become a holy nation to set an example for the world. That’s what you must know. God created the Torah to reveal the world. Those who live by the Torah will be honored by the Almighty, blessed be He.”
“If the Torah was written before the earth was made, where was it kept?” asked Ze’ev.
The rabbi nodded his head and smiled. “That’s a good question, Ze’ev. I want you to always ask questions. How else do we learn but by study and asking questions? Would you be satisfied with an answer that says the Torah was kept in the mind of the Almighty?”
Ze’ev nodded his head yes. The other boys followed.
“So God was first and the Torah came next in God’s mind,” said Yanov.
“Yes, that’s a good way to think of it.”
“How long before God created the earth did he think of the Torah?” asked Saul.
“Have you learned some mathematics? Have you learned about infinity?” asked the rabbi.
They looked at each other and then offered, “A little.”
“God is infinite. God is here. God has always been. You can never reach the number infinity, but God has given us the Torah so we could reach Him even though He is infinite. We could never count to infinity, because even if we counted for an eternity there would always be the next number to reach. God knew this and created the Torah. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to reach him just like we can’t reach infinity. In mathematics, the great mathematicians have figured out how to use infinity in many ways to solve problems and learn many principles. So it is with the Torah, which is what we use to approach the infinite mind of the Almighty, blessed be He. Tell me my brilliant students, does this answer the question?”
With their mouths open, the students looked at the rabbi and nodded their heads.
He continued. “The Torah is the source of goodness for the world. Hillel said that the whole Torah could be summed up in one sentence: ‘What is hateful to you do not to your fellow.’ Rabbi Akiva changed the words, and said, ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’ This last commandment is what the Torah is all about.”
“Not too many people live by the Torah, so God must be angry that the people He made in His image don’t pay attention to it,” said Ze’ev.
“God has placed us here in His image. Yes, that’s true. He has given us…” The rabbi stopped his answer in mid sentence as he noticed his boys change their gaze to behind him and to the right.
He turned and saw a man on horseback approaching them. He became apprehensive, for he knew this could mean trouble. They all remained silent as the man approached. When he came closer, the rabbi recognized him as a police official in the town named Evgeny Kolakoff.
Looking straight on, the top of the rider’s head was above the horse, for Kolakoff was a short man with a pointed nose giving one the impression that he was following an arrow point extending from his frowning face. A narrow brimmed hat covered his bald head. He wore the typical Russian police uniform with brown pants stuffed in knee length boots and a brown jacket with brass buttons extending to his neck.
When Kolakoff arrived, he looked down upon the rabbi and his students. Through tight lips and furrowed brow, he sneered, “Do you all know what time it is?”
“Yes, we were just getting ready to leave when we saw you coming,” said the rabbi.
“Well you better get moving. Curfew time is close. On the other hand if you want to stay, that’s your decision, but then I’ll have the pleasure of arresting all of you Jews. It wasn’t your intention to break the law, was it Rabbi Tepperovitch?”
“No, of course not. Curfew doesn’t start for fifteen minutes and it’ll take us ten minutes to get to our homes. Come, boys.”
CHAPTER 2
In 1772, Russia, Austria and Prussia divided Poland between them in three stages, over a period of twenty-three years, and Rabbi Tepperovitch’s ancestors found themselves part of Russia. These partitions resulted in Russia assimilating several million Polish Jews within their boundary. Many of the Jews were poor, and some comprised the middle class between the nobility and the peasantry of Russia.
At first, the Russian government tried to ignore them even though it was against government policy to have them within their borders, but in time, the government found the Jews useful, blaming them for the untenable economic position of the peasants. As a result, the condition of the Jews became precarious. The peasants persecuted them and government put restrictions on them that made their lives difficult.
The Pale of Settlement was the name for the entire landmass within which the Jews lived. As time went on the geographic boundaries of the Pale would change, and the population of the Pale increased to almost five million by nineteen hundred.
They lived in shtetles, the Yiddish name for small towns. Their homes were made of wood, and three generations often lived under the same roof. The roads were dirt or cobblestone, and transportation was by foot, horse, or horse-drawn carriage.
The residents formed a close community; they congregated together, communicated with neighboring shtetles and did business with each other and their Christian neighbors. Some shtetles had Jewish majorities and others did not. The Jews were bound to each other by a common language—Yiddish.
The fact that the Jews kept to themselves and spoke this unfamiliar tongue, caused them to be viewed by non-Jewish members of the community as foreigners living within their midst. This was often the source of tension between the Jews and their Christian neighbors.
Tiktin was a typical small Polish town. Located in northwest Poland in the province of Bialystok almost fifty percent of the population was Jewish.
Anti-Semitism amongst the Christian townspeople caused constant tension in the Jewish community. There were frequent incidences of Jews assaulted on the streets and Jewish homes victimized by vandalism. Jews had learned from bitter experience to stay behind locked doors during the Easter and Christmas seasons when drunken, roving bands of armed peasants took out their enmity against the ‘Christ killers.’
The Jews were of the poorer and middle class. They were shopkeepers, merchants, tailors, shoemakers, seamstresses and laundresses. Many worked in factories or mills and a few worked in the synagogue. A rare few became wealthy and played an important