Monday, 16 September 2013

Traditional Jewish Jokes and Anecdotes, No. 6

The Selfless Sacrifice of the Jews


Near the end of the nineteenth century, in one of those larger principalities that made up one of the vast multi-ethnic empires of the Eastern Europe, the long-living royal prince finally died.  There was great consternation because, the ruler, having left no obvious heir to the throne, the country looked like it was about to plunge into a period of anarchy and chaos.  As part of the attempt to maintain peace and order for as long as possible, the inner council of the nation’s elders, called upon the religious leaders of all persuasions to attend the funeral of the late monarch and set the tone for a proper succession, whatever it might turn out to be.  Thus on the appointed day two weeks after the death, dressed in all their finery and sacramental insignia, the religious hierarchies came to the square before the national cathedral to make their pledges of loyalty.

First to speak was the Metropolitan Bishop of the Capital, the most important priest in the Orthodox Church.  He was a man in his late fifties, tall, portly, and beaming self-confidence and spiritual pride.  He stood before the marble sepulchre in which the corpse of the ruler already lay awaiting gifts and then closure.  For several days huge crowds had filed by in a single line, tears in their eyes, but wariness on their faces.  The Bishop pulled three of the largest rings off his right hand, held them up before the vast crowd, and declaimed: “Out of love and respect for our late lamented Prince, I cast these rich objects to show the appreciation of all he had done for our nation.”  Then he removed the expensive jewel-encrusted stole from around his neck, showed it to all, and said, “Now as a pledge of ever-lasting loyalty to the people and government of this God-blessed land, I give away this sacred stole.”

The crowd gasped, as what he had just given away was the equal of many years’ wealth of the entire national treasury.

Next to stand before the throngs was the Roman Catholic Bishop, the second-most important Christian cleric in the land.  He was quite elderly and frail, and yet, aided to the podium by seven younger priests and acolytes, he made himself heard clearly and loudly: “Fellow subjects and beloved brothers in Christ, I am come here to show the sadness of my Church and its love for our lost leader.  I also come to let the entire world see how much Holy Mother Church sacrifices to the future of this nation.” Art that, he took off three rings from each hand, removed the holy stole from around his neck, and took out from a small chest held up by one of the young priests a magnificent ancient Cross covered with diamonds, rubies, sapphire`s and every precious stone imaginable.  Everyone standing in the square immediately recognized it as the most wonderful relic of the nation’s Christian history. “Here,” he said, “placing it in the sepulchre “is our sacrifice and token of enduring loyalty to the state.”  The crowd roared its approval.

When silence returned, a third clergyman stood up.  It was the chief Preacher of the United Protestant Congregations, a young man with great charismatic powers, though the head of a minority faith in the land.  “My dear friends, neighbous and fellow citizens,” he said, “ my coreligionists and I share with all of you the profound loss we have suffered by the passing of our Great Leader, a man whose foresight and wisdom have created tolerance for all Christians in this beloved country.  In this time of sorrow and uncertainty, all of us must stand together with faith in the future.  I therefore will show deep our feelings go.”  He then took out from under his long black cloak a large sack, and one by one threw into the sepulchre golden bars, large ancient coins, rings, necklaces and a hundred other riches.  “Everything my brothers in Christ have and all the gifts the Holy Spirit has bestowed upon us is at the disposal of this wonderful country.”  And with tears in his eyes, he stepped back, while the great throng of people said a loud amen.

Then, before everyone went home, overwhelmed with profound feelings for the speeches they had heard and the sights they had seen, a little man, bent over and somewhat shabbily dressed in his gabardine coat and moth-eaten fur hat limped to the front of the podium.  It was the leading rabbi of the land.  The stared in wonder and slowly one whisper went to another as those who knew who he was passed on the information. 

“My dear friends,” said the old man, “we Jews also have much to be thankful for in this land, and especially to the person who lies before us here, for the final time visible to the people who ruled over for so long and so well.  All around us we Jews have been subjected to pogroms, massacres and expulsion, but here, thank God, we have learned to live peacefully with our neighbors.  But now, alas, with this great Prince gone, we are wary and frightened by what the future might hold.  Yet our faith in God and our belief in the Law of Moses teach us to have hope.  And to show you how much hope we have in the future of this truly great and magnificent country we all live in, I will make this pledge.”  At that, he took out a cheque book, wrote out the amount for twenty-five billion roubles in favour of the dearly departed monarch, and showed it to the assembled crowd.  “This is our sacrifice for the good of this land.”  He carefully tore the paper into a hundred pieces and he gently placed them into the sepulchre, while the honor guard of soldiers closed it over with a huge marble slab, and behind him a vast choir of boys and girls, monks and nuns all intoned the funeral chant to end the ceremony.  The huge throng crossed themselves, cried amen, and stared in wonder at the rabbi as he slowly disappeared into the approaching darkness.



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