Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance (33 page)

The congregation stood. Cameras surveyed the
room before focusing on individuals in the act of dipping parsley
into salt water. In unison they recited a blessing in Hebrew.

"Everyone knows about Joseph from the Bible,
the eldest son of the patriarch Jacob and the Matriarch Rachel,"
said Donald Silvio, as the screen filled with a replication of the
young Joseph scything wheat in an open field. "Joseph left the Land
of Judah, surrounding modern Jerusalem, and traveled into Egypt,
after being sold into slavery not by bandits or highwaymen, but by
his jealous brothers. His new Egyptian masters eventually
recognized his extraordinary talent for interpreting the symbolic
nature of dreams. From a poor, undistinguished slave in the house
of an Egyptian officer by the name of Potifar, Joseph's fame as
seer spread to the house of Pharaoh where he rose to become viceroy
over all that the mighty Egyptian monarch possessed. Meanwhile,
Joseph's brethren also journeyed to Egypt and with their brother's
forgiving help, prospered and multiplied." On the screen
re-enactment, Hebrews were shown in a busy Egyptian marketplace
enjoying the bounties of a prosperous land.

"Over the course of the next four hundred
years," Silvio's voice-over continued, "the Hebrew nation in Egypt
became numerous. The Hittite empire to the northeast, close to the
ancestral land of the Hebrews, threatened to invade Egypt. To
counter a perceived threat of alliance between the Hittites and
Hebrew population in Egypt, Pharaoh Ramses II put his Hebrew
subjects into forced labor building famous cities.

The film sequence Disney Productions had
previewed to the Ohav Shalom Board of Directors about manufacturing
bricks without straw binding appeared on the monitors. A theatrical
voice recited the biblical passages describing the cruel suffering
these enslaved Semites experienced. In bondage, the meaningfulness
to their lives in Egypt ceased. In desperation, they cried out for
delivery to the god of their forefathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
the deity whom most had forgotten during the four centuries of
Egyptian exile. And miraculously, this god heard their woes.

"Stand ready, Rabbi Lewyn," Karla Foo
prompted through the headphones. "You're up in twenty seconds."

Theater spotlights fell upon Gabby from
opposite directions, encompassing her in a halo of brightness. Her
green and yellow skullcap contrasted with the starched white collar
of her blouse. Cameramen were instinctively drawn to an attractive
female. Dark shadows accentuated the angularity of her chin. Her
nose was perfectly set between soft cheeks that curled into dimples
when she spoke. Her eyes, highlighted by dark mascara, were deep
and Semitic, bridging the modern Jew with ancient brethren in
Egypt.

Overhead monitors began to sparkle with white
snow, then suddenly went blank. "Oh Shit!" exclaimed Karla Foo into
her mike connected with her camera crew. "We've just lost our link
to Egypt. Silvio might as well be on Saturn. But we've still got
the Egyptian-Sinai footage in sequence and can feed it as
necessary. Any sign of a resumption, Ralph?" she spoke directly to
the chief engineer in a mobile van parked outside the
synagogue.

"Nope. Dead as a mummy from you know where,"
he shot back.

"All right then. Until we make contact again,
we've got to improvise from here. A switch on her belt connected
her to Gabby's earphone. "Are you standing by, Rabbi? We've just
lost the link with Egypt, but we can still work the original
script. Only I must ask you to fill in with historic commentary.
Please talk about ancient Egypt and modern America. Can you do
that, Rabbi?"

Gabby thought of thousands, no perhaps
millions, who might be watching and shuttered. Her next thought was
a reprimand for having accepted Disney's invitation in the first
place. Once that was dismissed as a waste of time, she accepted her
lack of alternatives. "I'll do the best…"

Karla interrupted. "I'm coming up on your
inset, Rabbi. For now, just do what you had planned to do. We're
down to six seconds. The
matzah
, please,
Rabbi."

Gabby inhaled as though this might be her
last breath of air and lifted three square-shaped
matzot
from the table. The camera moved in to follow
her extracting the middle sheet of unleavened bread and presenting
it to those at her table. "Passover is a festival with many symbols
which remind us today of our forefathers trek from slavery to
deliverance. We're not spectators gazing back on history with
detached curiosity. No, quite the contrary. Their slavery is our
slavery, their epic exodus, our exodus. The foods we eat, the
prayers we recite, bind us inexorably with our ancestors 3,200
years ago. And no symbol of this journey is more poignant than this
middle sheet of
matzah
."

Two spotlights converged upon her face,
looking down at the
matzah
. "Half of this,
I shall break for eating later,” she almost whispered. "But the
other half is called the
Lachma Anya
the
Bread of Affliction. My next words will be in Aramaic, a cognate
language of Hebrew spoken for centuries by Jews and the mother
tongue of Jesus of Nazareth." She raised this sacred sliver of
matzah
high for all to see and proclaimed,
"
Ha lachma anya d'aochaloo ahavatana b'artza
d'mitzrayim… kol dichphin, yetev, v'yechaloo…"

The lens captured her conviction as she made
eye contact with her congregants, explaining
,
"All of us, Jew and Gentile, come to this planet
from humble beginnings. We are all the children of slaves,
immigrants, refugees and vagrants. This particular matzah, called
the
Bread of Affliction
, reminds us of our
lowly origins. Our good fortune in America is largely a Divine
gift, not our birthright. This is bread of our humility, the bread
of the poor, the outcasts, the underprivileged. May those in want
share it with us. Let no neighbor or countryman have less than this
pitiful sliver of unleavened bread.

"It has not always been our fate to live in a
nation of freedom. Let us not forget that had our grandfathers and
grandmothers in Europe traveled east rather than west to improve
their lives, we wouldn't be here tonight. Like our brethren in
Europe, we would have been incinerated in the fires of the
Holocaust. Who but the arrogant can ignore his own fortune? When we
see Haitians crawling onto Florida beaches, Eastern European
refugees on Yugoslav roads, Chinese peasants in illegal ships
coming to American shores, Mexican laborers wading across the Rio
Grande, our hearts fill with compassion. Who among us has the right
to shut the door closed once he has reached the Promised Land? When
others are in pain, their pain is rightfully our pain. And our
Bread of Affliction is rightly theirs to share with us.
Ha Lachma Anyah
, come eat with us. How is
it possible to celebrate the deliverance of our ancestors three
thousand years ago and yet remain insensitive to the suffering of
people in our own generation?
Ha Lachma
Anyah
. This, friends, is the Bread of
our
Affliction, not the affliction of others, but
our affliction
. God delivered us from
slavery so that we might bring freedom to others. How dare we
forget those who are still in chains, those who are hungry and
those who are struggling to share in the bounty of this good
earth!"

Karla Foo prompted her camera team. "We're
moving into the footage on the Ten Plagues in fifteen seconds.
Rabbi Lewyn, please get ready because we'll be showing your
congregants dipping wine onto their plates. Call out the plagues by
their Hebrew names and we'll mix that into the sound background
with the music."

Film that Disney had screened before the Ohav
Shalom Board of Directors appeared on overhead monitors. It showed
a frog jumping over a windowsill into an Egyptian home, then
Egyptians walking cobbled streets and scratching their heads
infected with lice. Simultaneously, Gabby recited the list of
plagues while dipping her forefinger into a goblet of red wine and
casting drops onto a dinner plate. Karla broke in. "Doing just
fine, Rabbi. We've got a great cutaway. But this is where it gets
tricky. I need you to fill in for Don Silvio. Read the script or
improvise. It's your choice."

Gabby needed a moment to gather her thoughts,
but time was a luxury she didn't have. The camera was on her making
eye contact with Cantor Blass. Following recitation of the plagues
against Pharaoh and his people, the
Dayeinu
lyrics tracked logically.

"Friends," she said upon the completion of
the sequence, "in your
haggadahs
. Cantor
Blass will lead in this joyous song of gratitude."

Without further prompting, the cantor, an
indefatigable cheerleader, almost jumped from his seat.
Dayeinu
is the most exuberant and festive
moment in the seder and he let his congregants know he expected
them to belt out the familiar Hebrew verses. It was time to let God
know how Jews appreciated His bounty. Hold back nothing!

On the screens, the imposing figures of Moses
and his brother Aaron, with their backs to the cameras, were
arguing with Pharaoh while the monarch's courtiers circled around,
disdainful and dubious. Ramses, his face to the screen, looked
puzzled, as if wrestling with a premonition that these Hebrew
slaves were destined to vex him.

In Meyerhoff Hall, Gabby explained the
historic sequence to her congregants. The cards were stacked
against Pharaoh. How could he possibly have known that a divine
power far larger than himself had taken these woebegone slaves into
his care? How could he have foreseen that these people would escape
into the Sinai Peninsula and later march onto the pages of history?
What would clue him that these seemingly impotent and destitute
slaves would receive a revelation to reshape Western Civilization?
The moment was pivotal not only for Judaism, but for Christianity
and Islam. Poor Ramses was clueless.

On cue, Asa Folkman rose to lead his
congregants in the traditional blessings over bitter herbs bread
and
matzah
. Each required an explanation
and to each he brought a modern touch. On the monitors slaves were
on the run into the eastern desert of Egypt, with the hot sun
baking a flat, moisture-less bread on sheets of bronze. Miles
behind, Pharaoh's cavalry had begun it fruitless chase.

The mental concentration necessary to pull off both
a public and private seder simultaneously enervated Gabby. By the
time Disney had signed off the air, she felt ready to run from
Meyerhoff Auditorium to a quiet sanctuary anywhere. Her congregants
approached the head table with mixed reactions about what had just
occurred. Several voiced their opinion that they would prefer not
to see the experiment repeated on subsequent years, their opinions
stated in less than respectful tones. To them, the time-tested
traditional way was preferable, raising doubts in Gabby's mind
whether merging of the past and present really worked. About the
same number held the opposite view and praised her innovation in
making the old relevant to modern times, their position stated with
much less hostility.

Exhausted though she was, she could not
ignore dubious expressions of wonderment when she introduced Kye
Naah. Eyes invariably darted about in confusion. What was he doing
with
their
rabbi, especially when Ohav
Shalom was enjoying television exposure in many thousands of
American households? What impression would this leave in the minds
of fellow Jews who were having enough trouble digesting the idea of
a female rabbi?

"I was skeptical about this," Stan Melkin
shook her hand rigorously. "But thanks to you, Rabbi Folkman, and
Cantor Blass, we did pretty well. We'll soon hear reaction from the
community. I'd be interested to learn what your rabbinical
colleagues think."

"They probably didn't see this. Most were
conducting ceremonies in their own synagogues or homes. A few might
view it later on videotape. Between you and me, I don't expect
much. Anything that challenges the status quo is threatening.
Remember, rabbis are paid to defend the past and uphold tradition.
Innovation," she paused to punch a friendly knuckle into his
shoulder, "comes slowly."

Saying good night to hundreds of congregants
added to her fatigue. Kye asked to follow her home and be certain
she arrived safely. While this was not necessary, she enjoyed his
attentions.

Outside her garage, he faced her with a rare
expression of uncertainty. "I'd invite myself in, but I know how
tired you must be. What I want to say, I can say here on the
street. You were wonderful, Gabby. Your words were golden and your
timing perfect. At a moment like this, it makes me sad to think of
you in politics. You have much more to give in your current
job."

"I appreciate that, Kye. More than you know,"
she said, looking vulnerable. "It's important to me to be the best
rabbi I can."

He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.
After a single peck, she angled her face toward his and returned
the kiss on his lips, then gathered him in a full-body embrace. In
breaking away, she muttered, "There will be hell to pay for this,
you know."

He squinted his willingness to participate in
the conspiracy, but at the last moment asked, "How so?"

"Couldn't you read their eyes tonight? My
people want to know who you are and what you mean to me. You're a
Korean Baptist. Jewish girls are supposed to date Jewish men. I'm
supposed to be a role model for their daughters and dating
handsome, talented Korean men like you is definitely not what they
have in mind."

His eyes dropped to the pavement but quickly
returned to hers. "I'm sorry, Gabby. I am who I am."