I, Jadzja

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I, JADZJA2

A Cautionary Tale3

© 2008 James Gagiikwe4

A knock on the Rabbi’s apartment door.5

“Come in! Come in. and sit. We must have been expecting you. Look, the black bread and cheese are already out. Here, sit at the table with us. The samovar is hot. Some tea? Let me tell you a story while you eat. This is a story from the old country, but long before you, or I, or my wife were born.”6

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In the lands of the Tsar our people lived where they were told to live. That way the Tsar’s soldiers knew where to find them if the Ukrainian wheat harvest failed and they needed a Pogrom to turn the peasants’ attention away from the Tsar and his toadies. If the potato harvest failed … there was a Pogrom. If the Tsar lost a war, or had a fight with his mistress … then of course there was a Pogrom. We were a handy people to have around. 8

Jadzja was a rabbi, the son of a rabbi, the grandson of a rabbi, the … well you understand. There were Pogroms when he was a child. When he was a teenager. When he was a young man. When he … OK, OK you get the idea…. Here have some butter for your bread. 9

All his life he had prayed and dreamt, and hoped for one thing… to see his people set free from oppression. He had no messianic self-image. That would have been blasphemy. No, he simply wanted to be another Moses, leading his villagers out of their Tsarist Egypt.10

Jadzja was a deeply devout man, well schooled in the Torah, attentive to all his duties and responsibilities. He was respected, consulted, listened to, but somehow never loved. Subconsciously he knew this, and it deeply puzzled him. In his heart he felt he loved his family and his villagers deeply, passionately. He served them. He hurt for them. He cherished them. He always tried his best to teach them the Law, and to lead them in reverent worship.11

Jadzja was full of compassion and a man of integrity. But all his love and all his good qualities were buried deeply below his desire to be as Moses to these people. His desire, his ambition, coloured everything he did, or said, or attempted, or thought. His love was so buried that none saw it, or chose to return it.12

Jadzja lived a long life, a sad life. Pogroms, wars, new and increasingly cruel Tsars; all these things he and his villagers experienced. Jadzja had three children, two sons and a daughter. The elder son, instead of becoming a rabbi, ran away to join the Tsar’s army. He died anonymously in some distant battle. The younger son rebelled against his father’s orthodoxy, and embraced nihilist ideals. His daughter, to Jadzja’s endless grief, ran away to Lvov and eventually married a goy. From all this his wife died of a broken heart.13

In all this Jadzja never faltered from his desire to be as Moses to his villagers. This seemingly selfless ambition absorbed all of his energy, his personality, his dreams. In the end, bitter, frustrated and unfulfilled, he lay on his deathbed, praying.14

And the Creator of the Universe came to him as he prayed. “Jadzja”, the Creator said softly. “Jadzja.”15

“Yes, Almighty Lord?”16

“Why do you pray so sadly?”17

“Because you never answered my prayers.”18

“Which prayers, Jadzja?’19

“That I might be as Moses, and lead my people out of this oppressive captivity.”20

“Did I ask you to be as Moses to them, Jadzja?” 21

There was a long silence. “No”, was the almost inaudible answer.22

“Jadzja, Jadzja”, the Lord said gently in great sorrow, “I have this against you…. I never asked you to be as Moses…. I only asked you to be Jadzja…. That would have been more than enough for these people…. Just for you to be Jadzja.”23

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“Now, tell me, why have you come to see your Rabbi this afternoon?”25

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