?I am writing this
article a few days after my recent return from the Czech Republic. I had the
privilege of accompanying a group of Jewish Learning Exchange (JLE London)
donors on a four-day trip to Prague. My rabbinic colleagues, from London, were
Rabbi Dr. Akiva Tatz, Rabbi Aubrey Hirsh, and Rabbi Ben Morgan. We visited many
special places, and because Rabbi Hirsh, who is an expert in the history of
Prague, was our primary tour guide, we learned an enormous amount.
* * *
Prague’s first Jewish records date
back to the arrival of an “Oriental” Jew named Ibrahim ibn Yaakov in 908. It
took almost 350 years until, finally, in 1254, the monarchy granted rights to
the Jews. As a result, what would eventually become a major Jewish community
started to take root. In 1370, the famous Atlneushul (Old/New Shul) was built.
The shul, still active, remains exactly
as it was 653 years ago.
When the Maharal, Rav Yehuda ben
Betzalel Loew, (1525-1609) became the Rav of the Atlneushul Shul, there were
congregants who wanted to repaint the shul interior. The Maharal forbade it
because there were blood stains on the walls from a terrible pogrom which had
taken place on Easter Sunday in 1389, 19 years after the shul opened. The
Maharal would not allow the blood to be removed or painted over. On two
occasions, when the Maharal was away, prominent congregants called in
plasterers and painters to paint the walls. On both occasions, before work
could begin, the workman died. From then on – until 10 years after the
Maharal’s passing – no further attempts were made to plaster or paint the
interior of the shul.
Four hundred years ago, well after
the death of the Maharal, only the southern wall was carefully painted, based
upon instructions left by the Maharal. To this day, three of the shul’s walls have
remained untouched for 653 years, and the southern wall has remained untouched
since it was painted 400 years ago. On the upper ceiling, the shul has coded
acronyms reminding the worshippers that they are in a sacred place. On the
western wall, the congregants are reminded of the greatness of the mitzva of
saying “amen” to a bracha, the importance of turning away
from evil, and a blessing for klal Yisrael.
It is noteworthy that on Friday afternoons, an hour before Shabbat, a musical
ensemble used to play tunes in the shul to welcome the Shabbos queen with joy. (I
thought that NCSY had invented that “minhag.”)
* *
*
In addition to the Maharal, many
other great sages lived in Prague, including: the Kli Yakar, Rav Efraim
Lunschitz (1550-1619); the Noda b’Yehuda, Rav Yechezkel ben Yehuda HaLevi
Landau (1713-1793); the Shaloh, Rav Yeshaya Horowitz (1560-1630); the Tosfos
Yomtov, Rav Yomtov Lipman Heller (1579-1654); and Rav Yonason Eybeshcutz (1690-1764),
to name a few. Nevertheless, it is the Maharal who, to this day, looms large
over the city of Prague.
Certainly, the legends, the stories,
and the details surrounding the Golem, the supernatural creature that the
Maharal is credited with creating has much to do with his larger-than-life
history. In front of the palatial City Hall of Prague, well over a century ago,
the non-Jews erected a 20-foot-tall statue of the Maharal, which rests atop a
10-foot base. The statue was never touched during the Nazi occupation. Of the
thousands of shuls and yeshivas burned and destroyed by the Nazis, the
Maharal’s shul, home, and gravestone were never touched. I found that most
intriguing.
* *
*
The primary recorded details of the
Golem legend are these: In 1580, a Catholic priest named Thaddeus – a fanatical
antisemite – went on a campaign to initiate a blood libel pogrom against the
Jews of Prague. Rabbi Loew went to the attic of the shul and fasted and prayed,
beseeching G-d for a solution to save the community. The answer came to him in
a dream: a complex arrangement of mystical letters from Above, with
instructions on how to fashion a living being from clay.
It is interesting that the Talmud
(Sanhedrin 67) describes how, every Friday, Rav Chanina and Rav Oshaya would
use their incredible knowledge of the laws pertaining to Creation to “create” a
calf to be eaten on Shabbos. The Maharal acknowledged that this process was
supernatural but felt that, just as Rav Chanina and Rav Oshaya needed a calf
for Shabbos, Prague needed a different kind of supernatural entity.
According to the legend, Rabbi Loew
called upon his talmid, Yaakov ben
Chaim Sasson, and his son-in-law, Yitzchok ben Shimshon, to assist him in
gathering the elements he had seen in his vision. Over several days, they all
sanctified themselves in the mikvah, repented for their sins, re-sanctified
themselves, and lamented for Jerusalem (recited kinot). After midnight, they went to the river Vltara (which runs
through the center of the Prague) to find the precise sand and clay mixture,
which they brought to the shul attic. While continuously reciting psalms, they
began fashioning the Golem by candlelight. After shaping its large body, the
ritual then involved circling the Golem seven times, while reciting mystical
codes.
According to the legend, the mass of
clay began glowing and became red hot. As the body cooled, it began to perspire,
hair began to grow, and finger and toenails appeared. The Maharal placed the
divine mystical, unpronounceable name of G-d, written on parchment, in the
Golem’s mouth. The three men then bowed in all four directions to G-d and
recited the words, “And the L-rd formed the man from the dust of the earth and
breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living
being.” The Golem then opened its eyes. The Maharal ordered the Golem to stand.
The men proceeded to dress him in oversized garments. Rabbi Loew said to the
Golem, “We have created you to protect the Jews from persecution; this is your
holy mission.” Your name will be Yosef, and you will live in this attic. Yosef,
you must always obey my commands no matter
where I send you – into fire, into water, to jump from a roof, or to submerge
into the deep sea. Do you understand?” Yosef nodded in acceptance.
* * *
Whether you
wish to believe the story or not, here are a few additional parts of the legend
to consider: Prior to the Maharal’s death, he was instructed to “decommission”
the Golem by removing the Divine name and by removing the Aleph from the word “emes” on the Golem’s forehead, leaving
the word “meis,” death. It was then purported
that the remains of the Golem were placed in a chest in the attic. It was
forbidden for anyone to enter the attic from then on. According to the legend,
those who disobeyed and entered the attic were never heard from again. In an
account by the Gaon Rabbi Yosef Shaul Nathansohn (1808-1875), author of Sho’el U’Mashiv in Megilat Yuchasin, Rav Nathansohn records that the Noda B’Yehuda
purified and sanctified himself in order to enter the attic. After a few
minutes, he emerged ashen grey in color and shaking. After being revived by his
talmidim, he refused to speak about
his experience other than to say that it was absolutely forbidden for anyone to
ever enter the attic.
* * *
The Maharal
was born on the first night of Pesach, 1512. It is recorded that the Maharal’s
wife, Perl, was also a tremendous scholar and served as his assistant and
stenographer. She and her husband studied not only Talmud and halacha together
but also Kabbala. The Maharal passed away on the 18th of Elul, 1609.
On that very day, seven generations
later, his direct descendant, the first Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman
of Liadi, was born, in 1745. The Baal Shem Tov, the founder of chasidus, was also born on that exact
date, 18 Elul, in 1698. According to tradition, the Maharal’s teachings
profoundly influenced Rav Schneur Zalman’s magnum opus, the Tanya.
On September 6, 1970 (5 Elul), the
Gaon Rav Yitzchok Hutner, zt”l, Rosh
Hayeshiva of Chaim Berlin, his rebbitzen, son-in-law, and daughter were on
board TWA flight 741, which was hijacked by Palestinian terrorists. The
terrorists released the non-Jews but held 50 Jews captive for days inside the
aircraft on a baking desert airstrip in Jordan. After a week, the captives were
moved to different locations, but Rav Hutner was held separately. On the 18th
of Elul, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who together with his chasidim, had been reciting tehilim
and praying for Rav Hutner and the other hostages, spoke to his chasidim about the crisis. After
reciting tehilim that day, the Rebbe
stated categorically that because it was the Maharal’s yahrtzeit, his neshama
would intervene to protect Rav Hutner and the Jews accompanying him. That day
(18 Elul), Rav Hutner was miraculously reunited with his family and the other
captives. With the direct involvement of (G-d and) President Nixon, Rav Hutner,
together with his family, were freed and sent to Cyprus (enroute to New York) a
week later. The ordeal lasted almost three weeks. The Hutners arrived back in
New York just in time for Rosh Hashanah. After Rosh Hashanah, Rav Hutner
visited the Lubavitcher Rebbe to thank him for his prayers.
* *
*
As mentioned in the opening
paragraph, my dear friend and colleague, Rabbi Dr. Akiva Tatz was with us in
Prague. Rabbi Tatz is a talmid of the
great scholar and rational mystic, the Gaon Harav Moshe Shapiro, zt”l. Rabbi Tatz related this first-person
experience to me.
It was Shavuos of 2019, and he and
Rabbi Yehoshua Hartman, the head of the Beis Medrash at Hasmonean High School
in London, had brought a group of 25 outstanding bachurim to study through the night at the Maharal’s Atlneushul Shul.
The shul is under careful police surveillance, and security cameras (mounted on
poles, not on the shul) surround the property. When the shul is occupied, a patrol
car is parked outside, and police stand watch. When the Hasmonean group entered
the shul at midnight, the police officer on duty said that, for safety reasons,
he was going to lock the outside doors and if, for any reason, someone needed
to leave, they could use the keys inside to unlock the door and exit.
Rabbi Tatz said, “Just before netz (dawn), a large bearded man dressed
in black, wearing a flowing hood entered the shul. The ‘man’ slowly and
deliberately made his way towards the aron
kodesh while pausing along the way to
stare, with piercing eyes, at certain students, myself, and Rabbi Hartman. No
one spoke. The ‘man’ proceeded to the aron,
stood for a few moments, and then quickly whizzed past us and vanished. The
incident lasted only a couple of minutes. We were speechless. Immediately,
Rabbi Hartman and I ran to the door. It was locked! We grabbed the inside key,
fumbled, and got the door open. We ran out into the dark silent street in
search of the ‘man.’
“The policeman on duty asked what we
were looking for. We answered, ‘the man dressed in black who just came into the
synagogue.’ The policeman said, ‘I’ve been here the whole time; no one entered
or exited this building.’ He then said, ‘If you want, I can easily check the
security tapes.’ We reentered the shul and looked everywhere, but no trace. Everyone
was quite awake for the netz davening.
After the chag, we carefully watched
the security tapes from the time frame of the strange visitor’s appearance.
There was no one recorded on the tape entering or exiting the building.”
I asked Akiva what he thought about
this odd encounter. His answer (in typical Tatz fashion), “There are many
inexplicable things that happen around us; this was just one!”
Our tour bus driver, who wasn’t Jewish,
shared this: “My family has lived in Prague for centuries. We (i.e., the local gentiles)
know that Rabbi Loew was a saint who performed miracles. That is why we revere
him.” He continued, “From the day Rabbi Loew created the Golem until he retired
it, there were no pogroms or antisemitic acts in Prague.” It is noteworthy that
in the trinket and souvenir shops around the city, Golem replicas of various
sizes are sold.
On the day before our tour group was
scheduled to go to the Old Cemetery, a busload of Japanese tourists had arrived
to “ask for blessings” at the Maharal’s grave. Many non-Jews visit his grave
weekly. Young, non-Jewish couples come to get a blessing from Rabbi Loew before
they get married. I have no idea if the legends are accurate, but I do know for certain that something other-worldly took place when the
Maharal was in residence. For me there is no question about it.
On erev Shabbos, I was standing with Rabbi Hirsh and staring at the
huge statue of the Maharal in front of city hall. Out of nowhere, a clearly
non-Jewish elderly woman wearing a crucifix came over and, in broken English,
said, “Come here at exactly sunrise and look at Rabbi Loew’s face. It shines
and is mystical; it is the time to ask him for a blessing!”
