sobota, września 25, 2010

SHALOM JERUSALEM


High summer. Half of the holidays have past: the first and the second term of ‘the Oasis’ in Krościenko on the Dunajec are behind us. Returning again... There are things and matters which are difficult to recollect without reflection. Tiredness of travelling? Does not matter – tourist attractions can recompense the night spent in a waiting room at the Easter Station. The last train to Białystok has just gone, and the next is only after five in the morning... Oh no, just this was missing! First, I take to my supper, this will let me regain strength and control irritation. A station bar is opened all night. I buy some sandwiches and tea – coffee later – and wait a moment until any place at the marble table becomes free. Travellers are sitting on high, fixed to the floor stools. They ‘are consuming’ in silence and leaving...
          In the waiting room on the first floor some people seem to be waiting for morning trains, and others simply for a new day. Some old people with bundles ‘are kipping’ on radiators next to the walls. They are sleeping, sitting or lying disorderly on benches like defeated warriors... Some are ‘vigilant’ talking or quarrelling, others are snoring loudly. My stomach turns. My stoical peace – maybe only an old habit of suppression of negative feelings... I ‘ve got a book... After all I am not in a hurry: there are still holidays! There is one free place for me as well! I am reading and dozing off in turns. Is this a coincidence that we are waiting the morning together and in the end it will catch us, although everyone in a different way? The night has passed, the bright light of a day like a good wish without words has broken into the waiting room. In one minute ‘ the battlefield’ emptied before the morning cleaning. Thank the Lord for a new day.
          Downstairs in the main hall near booking-offices formed long queues of travellers. ‘It’s known thing the capital and every word needless...’ In front of me a man asked in English for a ticket to Vienna. A cashier tried to explain him that such ticket must be bought in Orbis at Bracka Street, if I heard well. I knew that until departure of the train I had two hours; I felt irresistible need to take care of that man. I could go by train with him to Bracka Street and later go further, and my time would not be wasted. The traveller without hesitation accepted my proposition of me becoming his ‘new’ guide. We got on the nearest tram going along Aleje Jerozolimskie. I thought that we had to get off near the monument of Chopin at Nowy Świat. Only then I thought of ‘a red colour’[1] of a jacket, a rucksack and a cap of my ‘comrade’. What could that ‘fireman’s’ red outfit mean ( I do not remember whether his trousers were red as well)? Communist, Red Khmers’ Fighter, or other brigades? What guesses! Intuition on holidays too?!
          Orbis would open in a few hours. In the youth hostel in Bracka Street the left-luggage office was closed as well. I do not know whether THAT MAN wanted to leave his rucksack there or collect other luggage. I guessed he lived (spent a night) at that hostel. We both decided to go somewhere for breakfast. I smiled to a thought that a Newcomer and what is more ‘the red one’, whatever that ment, gave me a chance of evangelical talk about Jesus in English. Going on foot to a bar down Nowy Świat to Krakowskie Przedmieście we had more time and less embarrassing situation to talk freely. (Red colour, – what alarm?)  In fact I found less and less ‘obvious things’. (Common sense demanded tact and caution, but policy of effective evangelisation lies in talking about Jesus directly.) I started as I was thought. After a few sentences of introduction my interlocutor said that he thought differently, but he is not an atheist. I asked him to specify it (that would make our conversation easier). He said he was a Jew and was coming from Israel after a year of work in kibuc[2] to continue studying biology in Amsterdam. Instead of hugging him I said conciliatorily that I would take him to a milk bar, (which I liked as a student). There would be for sure tasty and ‘kosher’[3] dishes. Despite the lack of experience I did not give up further conversation... My interlocutor was familiar with the subject, because he stated that Romans crucified Jesus. To what I fired that refusing him as a Messiah – the King, Jews drew down on themselves his blood – ‘his blood on us and our sons’ (Com. Matthew 27, 25). The young man saddened. Then I told him that Jesus forgave them ( i.e. Jews and Romans) of his own free will, out of love he gave up his life for brothers and all mankind, in order to restore for us eternal life. ( Com. John 10, 16).
          I remember when over ten years ago my professor conferring a degree prof. Marek Fritzhand invited me for consultation to his flat. I was guessing that he was a Jew; I liked him and I tried to help him... (Although then I did not really know how.) I brought him a wonderful book by Roman Brandstaetter: Jesus of Nazareth. (– The novel about Jewish Messiah written by a Jewish messianist). The professor answered with honesty for honesty:    ‘Roman Brandstaetter is my friend’. I also wanted to encourage him (the Professor) to read the Bible. ‘Of course, he answered, I read it every day in original’. Immediately I came down from ‘my pulpit’ – such a lesson of humility could give me only a Friend – an Older Brother in faith...
          After a bar ‘ kosher’ breakfast we went  further with our rucksacks little using public transport, in order to talk easier and more honestly. (I decided to go back in the evening – my ticket was valid till tomorrow). I also began to discover  the reverse of the medal: First he led me to the Jewish Historical Institute near Plac Grzybowskiego to search his genealogy, because his father with the family emigrated from Poland, and precisely from Radzyń Podlaski. Mosheh ( Moses), that was my new acquaintance’s name, in a few minutes found his genealogy, and later we watched an exhibition dedicated to the history of Pawiak, Ghetto and Warsaw Uprising. I was shocked. That horrible nightmare is not a dream, but we need to awake... During our meeting with a manager of the Institute, Mosheh confessed him in my presence: ‘Are you circumcised?’ ‘Do you eat kosher meals?’ ‘ Do you celebrate SABBATH?’ – The manager complained about the guest’s cheek.
          After leaving we both entered some little church for a moment. Later we were going to  the Jewish Theatre ( unfortunately it was a vacation break). Not far from there is a Synagogue. ( It was also closed I do not know why). Mosheh started to laugh: After a while he said: ‘ A Jew with a catholic walk like twins...’  Next to the synagogue in a courtyard we met two men. One of them, toothless, poorly dressed and intoxicated was sitting on a stone; the second one was reprimanding him, that Sabbath and he was unprepared. That second one was an owner of a flat at Twarda Sreet (‘Twerda syks’ as he told us himself). He invited us to the flat. On the door was MEZUZAH[4]. After a while he had to give an account of his conduct. ( Was he circumcised, how he treated kosher, was he practising?) Mosheh was simple-minded like Nehemiah!
          The test fell out well. The host had got prepared earlier Sabbath meal. – ‘ Bobys’ – boiled broad beans strongly salted, with a peanut flavour. A white set table and candles; a bottle of vodka ( kosher). He proposed a toast: SHALOM JERUSALEM, and then he filled three glasses. (They put on scull caps: round caps on the top of their heads, and I covered the top of my head with my left hand). Looking towards the east with tears in our eyes we drank to: ‘SHALOM JERUSALEM!’ Then I felt a Zionist... ( Since that time I have kept absolute abstention from alcohol...)


[1] „Red colour” – some kind of alarm? ( in Hebrew language “CEWA ADOM” means “ALARM”)
[2] Kibuc – a collective farm in Israel
[3]KOSHER – suitable, proper, fit; KASHRUT - Jewish laws about ‘ritual purity’.
[4]MEZUZAH – a scroll with quotations from the Bible: Deut 6, 4-9; 11, 13-21; in a tube fixed to the doorframe of believing Jews.

                                                                                                                Translated by Barbara Vujcic

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