God, This Thanksgiving, Let Me Tell You A Story
Thanksgiving During These Days Of Darkness.
God, this Thanksgiving, let me tell you a story. I know God, You have heard this story before. It is quite famous down here among the Jewish people. But I have my own reasons to repeat it here, just in case You may have forgotten it. I know. It is impossible for God, Creator of heaven and earth, to forget something.
Still, sometimes I get the feeling You do forget things. Sometimes I get the feeling You refuse to listen. Sometimes I get the feeling, well, excuse me for this ahead of time, that You, God, just don’t give a damn.
Our story begins like all great stories with “Once upon a time…” I cannot be original here, as it is not my story to change. I can only repeat it, in the hope that this time You will remember it.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, sometime around the year 1698, in the Ukraine, a baby was born to a poor Jewish family. He was given the name, Israel, and as we call him, Israel the son of Eliezer and Sarah (Israel ben Eliezer). There is no need to tell You about his childhood. He grew up to be one of the most famous Jewish leaders of all time. I think You may know him. We call him the Baal Shem Tov, which means Master of the Good Name. “The Good Name” obviously refers to Your name, God.
The Baal Shem Tov was first in a new sect of Jews who would, with the passage of time, become known as Hassidim. To this sect the pious and simple among the people flocked, mesmerized by the magnetic personality of their Rebbe. The persecution, squalor, and dreariness that the followers of the Baal Shem Tov were subject to, caused them to sink deeper and. deeper, generation following generation, into the purgatory of human existence. They were given hope with the coming of Israel ben Eliezer out of his self-imposed exile in the Carpathian Mountains, and to this hope, they clung with every breath. Day by day the aura surrounding the Baal Shem Tov grew as stories and tales of his supernatural powers spread from town to town reaching the ears of the most isolated of Jewish communities.
The Baal Shem Tov neither hindered nor encouraged these legends nor would it have done any good to do so. Israel ben Eliezer knew that being 'Master of the Good Name' carried with it an awesome responsibility. Those Jews who were once destined to live out their lives in despised ignorance were now given the opportunity to tiptoe through the heavenly spheres, with the assurance that they had not been forgotten by their Creator. The gates of Elysium opened wide in deference to their Rebbe and passage through them no longer depended upon the accruement of knowledge which they could not afford to attain. Because of their Rebbe, they would also sit in the Garden of Eden, with Moses and King David, studying the mysteries of creation while weaving the intricate filigree for the eternal crown of the true Judge.
The Baal Shem Tov knew that he was but a messenger - given to fulfill and delay; to reveal and conceal. His purpose was to begin to bring about the end of a long night; yet he was but the first glimmer of dawn. Above all else the Baal Shem Tov had restored hope, and hope, he knew, was the most powerful and scarce human commodity that exists. It was for this hope that Israel ben Eliezer fought against the Seraphim and Cherubim - and availed - for it was hope itself that the creations of heaven had been denied.
Do You remember the Baal Shem Tov, God? Well, on Yom Kippur, Jews and even some non-Jews, would all gather in the thousands in his town of Medzibezh, so that the Baal Shem Tov would make sure their prayers and tears went straight to Your throne.
But now God, enough about the Baal Shem Tov for a moment. We will come back to him soon enough, I promise.
During this time in a small town near Medzibezh, lived a very poor shoemaker with his wife. I am sorry God, their names have long been lost in the fog of time. But they had a son whom they named Jacob. And they loved and reveled in their baby son, and took joy in all that he did. That is until the Cossacks came and killed every person in their village. Yet, somehow, probably You had something to do with it, somehow the Cossacks did not discover the baby. He was the only one left alive.
In a Christian village next to the one that was destroyed and burned, lived a childless couple. They loved one another dearly and loved You as well. Because as You know God, we may have different religions, but in the end, we all look to You. Sometimes I think that is really dumb, especially in my later years. But nevertheless, we do call upon You.
This childless Christian couple, came upon Jacob, as they went to try and save his parents whom they knew. Alas, all they could find was baby Jacob crying loudly. And the wife picked him up, and this couple knew there would be no question about it. They would adopt Jacob as their own. The only thing they had to do, for fear of being reported to the authorities, was to change Jacob’s name to Jakub. As they left that burned-out village for the last time, the wife, who would become Jakub’s mother, found a prayer book, which belonged to Jacob’s mother. She took it home with her and the baby and saved it among her most precious things.
The years went by, and Jakub grew up to be a very happy teenager in a home filled with love. And every year he noticed around the holiday of Yom Kippur, would travel through their village in the hundreds to get to Medzibezh to be with the Baal Shem Tov. He did not understand it, but he watched.
His mother knew that sooner or later she would have to tell Jakub the truth. So on his fifteenth birthday, she pulled him aside and told him the whole story. Jakub was not surprised. He always felt there was something different about him. He loved his parents no less, but he was glad to know who he really was.
During that year many horrible things happened to the Jewish people and indeed around the world. Yet, always, incessantly the Jews were blamed for everything. Jakub heard the whispers and internalized them. And as Yom Kippur grew close, he watched again as the hundreds of Jews traveled through his town to get to the Baal Shem Tov who would save them from all the horrors waiting for them in the year to come.
The night of Yom Kippur came, and Jakub was strangely drawn to the window of his cottage watching, waiting, listening. That night he could not sleep. He could not think of anything else but where all those strange people were heading.
So, early the next morning, he took his birth mother’s prayer book, walked the mile to Medzibezh, and went into the synagogue. There were hundreds upon hundreds of people there, and Jakub found a place to stand all the way in the back, as he listened to the prayers being sung, as was the tradition in Hasidism.
It was in that year that the Baal Shem Tov prayed his hardest. But the more he prayed to You, God, the less You listened. The Baal Shem Tov used every trick in the book. He called upon Your secret, hidden names. He fought with the angels, and he argued with the Seraphim and Cherubim. But nothing he said, not one tear of his could get through to You. You were deaf to his pleas, and indeed, deaf to the pleas from Jews all over the world. You would not listen. You absolutely refused to grant a good year to your people and the rest of the world. God, in human parlance, You were being very stubborn.
As Yom Kippur began to reach its pinnacle before the sunset, the Baal Shem Tov stood in silence with a broken heart. The whole congregation felt it. The song died on their lips. They were afraid for their leader, and their leader feared he would fail an entire people.
In the back of the synagogue, Jakub stood watching, indeed, entranced by the spectacle before him. He felt the sorrow deep in his heart. Somehow, without being told he knew what it was about and what caused it.
Jakub opened his birth mother’s prayer book. He could not read Hebrew, he had no idea what was written. He had no idea what to do with it, but he knew he had to do something as the Baal Shem Tov stood as a statue in silence.
So Jakub, who became Jacob again at that moment, opened his prayer book and held it above his head. And this is what he said, God. This is what he said to You.
“God, my name is Jakub, but I was born Jacob to parents who were murdered by Cossacks. My mother and father today are not Jewish. But I am.
“Here is my prayer book. I cannot read it. I do not know Your language. I do not understand these prayers. But please God, please I beg of You, take the letters on these pages and form them into the right words and prayers that will reach Your ears. Take them God, because this is the only way I know how to pray.”
And those letters inside of that prayer book lifted themselves heavily off of yellowed, tear-stained pages, and slowly at first gathered in the front of the synagogue, and as Jacob who was also Jakub, kept his request in his heart, they flew with wings to the heavens. No angels were able to stop them; the Cherubim and Seraphim watched in astonishment as those letters came to rest at Your throne.
And suddenly, in the synagogue in Medzibezh, just as the sun was setting and Yom Kippur would end, the Baal Shem Tov started laughing loudly. He laughed and laughed and started dancing. Because he saw Jacob’s letters land on Your throne, and form themselves into words. He saw that not even You, God, not even You, could deny such a prayer. And the entire synagogue burst out in song.
You see God, it seems that those letters, given to You by someone who did not understand how to put them together, who could not pray to You in a synagogue, who did not even know You - those very letters were the ones You wanted. That was the prayer that saved the Jewish people and the entire world for the year to come.
So God, why am I telling You this story? Why now? I know what those words in a prayer book portray. I know the letters and words. But I will tell you a secret. I have no clue what they really mean. I do not think any of us know anymore. We are all Jacob and Jakub. We are alone and orphaned in a world that has persecuted us for eternity.
Here, God, take my prayer book. It is obvious, I do not understand it. And if You refuse to take my prayer book, take the one from whom you deem the most worthy. Here are the letters from the book, God. Take them and let them form the prayer that will land beneath your throne. Let them weave the filament for your crown.
Please, God. Take these letters from my prayer book.
Bring the hostages back to us.
Stop our children from being killed.
Is that too much to ask? Am I requesting something beyond your power?
