{"id":11873,"date":"2014-01-10T11:56:28","date_gmt":"2014-01-10T17:56:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/?p=11873"},"modified":"2014-01-10T11:56:28","modified_gmt":"2014-01-10T17:56:28","slug":"bandit-scholar-son","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/blog\/bandit-scholar-son\/","title":{"rendered":"Bandit, scholar, son"},"content":{"rendered":"

By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF<\/em><\/p>\n

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They had questions, disputes, divorces, convoluted legal complexities of halachic law, which demanded the wisdom of Solomon.\u00a0 What did the law say if one partner stole money and the other partner, in revenge, seduced his wife?\u00a0 Who owed who?\u00a0 What and when?\u00a0 And if the dishonest partner paid the debt – over time – what about the interest?\u00a0 (It\u2019s forbidden among Jews, you know.\u00a0 I mentioned this to my banker, Abe Cohen – \u201cI\u2019m a Presbyterian,\u201d he said – a second sin.)\u00a0 Or what if the seduced wife fell in love with the victimed partner and demanded a divorce from her larcenous mate?\u00a0 Did it ever end?\u00a0 How could the world outside his cabin be so evilly complicated?\u00a0 Of women and money and fame they couldn\u2019t get enough.\u00a0 Why couldn\u2019t they be like sheep in the meadows who nibbled grass to stay alive and only came when the shepherd called.<\/p>\n

But the Tzadik meditation over Baba 4 was interrupted – frightened is a better word – by a banging at the door.\u00a0 What could it be?\u00a0 Another question about Lev Rostous chickens who made breakfast, lunch, and supper on Shmuel Larons front yard garden.\u00a0 \u201cThree drumsticks for a package of marigold seeds, rabbi?\u00a0 Isn\u2019t that fair?\u00a0 Or maybe a skillet of stewed chicken.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before the Tzadik could formulate at least a tentative position, open burst the door and into the room came Chayim Brodsky – a man feared by all.\u00a0 Violence was his only talent and he exercised it often.\u00a0 The Rebbe wondered if it would be wiser to run out the back door or make a play for the poker. \u00a0After all, in a district full of thieves, burglars, con men, and bandits Brodsky was most feared.<\/p>\n

“Hold it,\u201d shouted the renegade.\u00a0 \u201cRelax, Rebbe.\u00a0 I mean no harm. Please sit with me and listen carefully,\u201d<\/p>\n

They sat at the wooden table that served as supper table, reading table, and sometimes a rude pillow for the rebbe\u2019s head when sleep overcame him at his studies.\u00a0 The bandit chief talked first and he talked at length.\u00a0 He talked \u2018til the moon could be seen at the window as though she, too, wanted to listen.\u00a0 He talked of his child, a son, and a father\u2019s universal dream that the son should excel the father. \u201cHis destiny must not be corrupted by me.\u201d<\/p>\n

In short, Chayim Brodsky proposed a bargain.\u00a0 He would donate a large amount of money, many thousands of rubles, to charity if the rebbe would undertake the raising of the child, now two, in the study of Torah.\u00a0 A double mitzvah, expounded the highwayman.\u00a0 First think of the good you could do with the money.\u00a0 Secondly and closer to his heart, the child would be rescued from the corruption of the father.<\/p>\n

How could such a pious one as the Tzadik of Riegle say no? \u00a0The bargain was consummated.\u00a0 The child never knew.\u00a0 And the boy who was genetically blessed with genes of cunning, courage, leadership, and understanding – the same genes that make one a successful highwayman – flourished intellectually within the community.\u00a0 Meanwhile, he thought himself to be the Tzadik\u2019s son.\u00a0 His real father never showed his face.<\/p>\n

He proved to be a perseverant, dedicated student.\u00a0 The same genes that made his father a leader of men, a skillful strategist, and an evasive target made his son a brilliant student.\u00a0 The age-old mystery, the only mystery:\u00a0 God\u2019s toleration of evil awed him every morning as he sat at the pine table with the rebbe.\u00a0 After all, talent has no choices, but its use poses ethical choices.\u00a0 And the child chose to follow his foster father.<\/p>\n

The years rolled by. As the father pillaged and robbed, the son sought the revelations of Torah – the mystery of Talmudic truth hidden within its coils; and why justice was hostage to fate and fortune.\u00a0 Respect for him grew within the community.\u00a0 He was appointed head of the district Sanhedrin that administered justice to the Jewish community – a role much like his real father\u2019s, dispensing life or death\u00a0 – only now a highly formalized process that mingled G-d\u2019s Torah and man\u2019s mercy.<\/p>\n

His reputation for fairness, his love of justice, his knowledge of Talmudic law was well known and he was a beacon of hope to those who came before the court.\u00a0 \u201cHatikvah\u201d the hope they called him.<\/p>\n

Of course, the inevitable day came.\u00a0 Before the court stood an aging highwayman – Chayim Brodsky, himself.\u00a0 At the high table sat he, who was called Hatikvah.\u00a0 Before him stood a scarred and wrinkled bandit, now far too old for his profession, but still cruel, evil, cunning, and larcenous enough to make a living off violation of the two key commandments regarding theft and murder.\u00a0 He knew his judge well.\u00a0 But the judge saw only an over-the-hill criminal \u2013 far too old and dull- witted to get away with his earlier transgressions.\u00a0 Somehow, it was clear that he yearned for punishment, a form of redemption \u2013 the only penitence he could offer.<\/p>\n

The case was clear.\u00a0 Many witnesses testified to his guilt.\u00a0 It was only a matter of sentencing.\u00a0 A simple decision made by the judge.\u00a0 He had been raised well.<\/p>\n

But the old man said not a word.\u00a0 Something choked in his throat – the evil of his heart, said the onlookers – as he admitted his guilt and was sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment by his son.<\/p>\n

The man that stood before his judge was not recognizable as kin, but his curly, gray hair resembled that of the judge and his eyes, like the judge\u2019s, were bright beacons searching for something lost in a stormy world.\u00a0 The boy \u2013 now a man \u2013 on the bench was his only accomplishment. \u00a0And from him came deliverance.\u00a0 With a rueful smile, he accepted his punishment.\u00a0 He had given something back to the world.<\/p>\n

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