Thirty-eight years after America won its independence from Britain, a publisher of Jewish books in Zurich Switzerland printed a book of Mishnias, the written account of the oral Torah, which defines the meaning of biblical laws. Printed in vivid colors and bound in a grand cover, it must have looked spectacular when it first rolled off the state of the art Gutenberg press.
At some point in time, over 191 years ago, a relative of mine bought this book and took it to his home to study. What happened to the book for the first one hundred and twenty-five years remains a mystery to my entire family to this very day. What we do know for sure is that at some point in his life, the book fell into the hands of my Great Uncle Ben. During his long lifetime my great uncle held myriad jobs, including working as a poultry farmer, a master mechanic and a sales person. Unfortunately life was difficult and challenging for Uncle Ben and he never pursued a life of Jewish study and scholarship and the book which must have been studied by countless individuals over it’s lifetime was stored away in a dark, dusty closet in the back of his home.
For more than 75 years this book, that is the basis for much of the legal systems around the secular world, remained hidden from view. Wars were fought, American President’s were elected, the state of Israel was established, children were born, young boys and girls had their bar and bas mitzvahs, and all the while the book sat patiently in the dark gathering dust and the present became the past.
At the ripe old age of 89 Uncle Ben passed away leaving behind his wife of 69 years and a modest home. My Uncle Mel and my Dad lovingly assisted their Aunt with pressing matters and eventually helped her find a beautiful place to live at a nearby assisted living community. When they went to her home to help her get her affairs in order they found the majestic old book in the back of the dark, dust-filled closet. Literally blowing the dust of the book, my Dad carefully examined the pages of the ancient manuscript. Since it was printed entirely in Hebrew it was a challenge to decipher.
His Aunt’s medical condition precluded him from questioning her about the book so he carefully packed it up and sent it to me, telling me to speak with the local Chabad Rabbi Mendel Cunin. When the box containing the treasure arrived at my home my wife Linda carefully cut through the yards of duct tape my Dad used to secure the box, and she carefully lifted it out of the container. Recognizing how frail it was she put it in a safe place and waited for me to return home later that day.
When I first saw the book I immediately thought it was a Chumash. But after a closer examination I realized it looked very much like the text we use in Shul when we study the Gemorah. Given the age of the book and its importance I looked forward to bringing it to the Rabbi for a closer inspection.
A day later I received an e-mail from the Rabbi informing our small but growing congregation that someone’s mother had passed away and he needed 10 men for a minion so he could say Kaddish. I decided to bring the book to Shul and show it to the Rabbi before the start of the Maariv service. When the Rabbi saw the book he of course knew that it was a book of Mishnias and told me it was at least 191 years old. He showed me how the pages were actually made from cloth, not paper, and that it was in remarkable shape for such an old manuscript.
A few minutes later the service began and we joined in to support our friend and neighbor in his time of need. Towards the end of the service the Rabbi stopped us and said it was a tradition to study from the Mishna when a member of the minion had to say Kaddish.
Catching my eye he said, “Rather than use a new book of Mishnias let’s use the one Steve brought with him tonight, a book that is over 191 years old.” And with that he picked up the book written just a few years after the signing of the American Declaration of Independence and discussed a passage about hunting for chametz before the start of Passover.
When he was done he slowly and tenderly closed the text and gingerly handed it back to me and we concluded the service. The next morning we met again so our friend could once again say Kaddish. Before we started we talked about the book and how wonderful it was that after all these years in seclusion it once again was used as a source of learning and inspiration. The Rabbi said the letters that make up the word Mishna are the exact same letters that make up the word Neshoma, the soul. He went on to say that both the Torah and the Neshoma are eternal.
His words tore through me like an electric charge, for each letter, word, sentence, paragraph, and chapter of the Torah are indeed eternal. The words we read today are the exact words our people heard when we all stood before Hashem at Mount Sinai and received the Torah. Handed down generation after generation these words that bring light to the world have never changed and never will. It is a constant that has united the Jewish people for centuries. And now hundreds of years after it was first printed, and at least three decades after it was stored away in a dark, dusty storage closet, the words of wisdom and enlightenment once again had an opportunity to illuminate the minds and souls of a congregation in the “Biggest Little City in the World” Reno, Nevada.
This exquisite book originally printed in 1814, has impacted many souls since a family member first acquired it so many years ago. Since that first printing it has passed from hand to hand, from relative to relative, it has been transported thousands and thousands of miles, it has resided in many different cities from Zurich, Switzerland, to Waterford, Connecticut and now Reno. And yet, more than 191 years, after the ink first caressed the pages of this very special book, it arrived just in the nick of time to comfort a grieving son and his friends in a little Shul in Reno, almost as if it had a pre-destined 191-year-old reservation to join a minyon of ten.
Coincidence, I think not.
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