A Direct Appeal from Maimonides

Director, Jewish Theological Seminary Museum

Much has been written about Maimonides, his life and his work. The Maimonides octocentennial exhibition, now being held in the Museum of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, has already filled the pages of magazines and newspapers. These articles, however, give an historical approach rather than a penetration into the human side of the documents which have been assembled there. I shall, therefore, take you with me on a trip to look into a manuscript and to search for the story behind it.

What we have in the museum is not a potsherd or stone, nor a piece of wood by some unknown idol-worshipper, who saw in them his supreme being, to whom he whispered incantations to winds and spirits, but the very handwriting of Maimonides, whose mind reached unto heaven, and who at the same time was aware of the needs of his people.

The works of Maimonides are immortal creations. Such a fragment, written by that spiritual giant, is priceless and sacred. It is surrounded with a halo of radiant wisdom, and a love for mankind. It is the autograph of the second Moses.

Let us, therefore, learn about Maimonides from only one manuscript, and a tragic tale will take us back many centuries. We shall travel along with this manuscript and follow it on its journey until we are back again in the museum in New York.

It was 750 years ago. The Almohades, the Berber tribes from Northern Africa, were making their raids, attacking and pillaging villages and towns which were accustomed to the rule of kindly princes. Death and slavery were the prices paid for defending their beliefs. Islam, as other religions, could not understand why the Jews did not want to be sheltered under the wings of those who promised them earthly harems or heavenly kingdoms.

USED VIOLENT METHODS

Too anxious were these religions to make the Jews happy in other worlds. Fire and sword hastened to transfer the souls of the stubborn nation to those realms. The Jews who managed to be saved from the sudden kindness of those who cared for their future lives were sold as slaves. For the glitter of gold was too tempting even to people who aspired to be the servants of God.

The markets were full of Jewish captives. The point of the sword stifled the cry of agony. Children who clung bewilderingly to the tattered covering of their trembling mothers were torn apart, never to see each other again. Men shook their fists helplessly when their bosom companions were taken away to be sold to the highest bidder.

In this desert of barbarism, there still were a few cases of tolerance. Egypt was one of them. There the heart of the head of Egyptian Jewry, the Sultan’s friend and physician, scholar and philosopher, Maimonides, bled for people. The cry of his brethren reechoed in his ears. It gave him no rest.

“The captives must be saved from slavery and shameful life,” was his decision.

MESSAGE IS HEEDED

Redemption was the only way. Although rich in spirit, Maimonides was poor in means. “Pidyon shvuyim,” redemption of the captives, became his motto. Emissaries with letters from Maimonides were sent to different corners of the world to collect money.

In the synagogues and streets “Pidyon shvuyim” were the words often heard. When the messengers read the Rambam’s appeal in the synagogues and described the torture and agony of their helpless brethren, the people visu#alized their own relatives and friends in chains, sold in the markets as animals, saw their miserable existence, their broken homes, families and lives.

Then the Jewish heart trembled, purses opened wide, jewels were stripped from fingers, wrists and necks to be exchanged for the liberty of the ill-fated. For the Rambam’s word was law, the word of a Moses.

In a wooden frame, between two glasses, lies the wornout fragment of a letter. Old are the characters. They are peculiar to the handwriting of the scribes of the twelfth century, curved in the Arabic fashion. For, in truth, the letter, though in Hebrew characters, is really written in Arabic, the language of the Jews in the lands around the Mediterranean. The letter contains historic facts, sad and full of appeal.

At the end of this letter are four words—Rabbi Moshe Ben Maimon. Besides rendering the paper invaluable, the words add to the inestimable importance of it, for the signature dates the document, thus revealing to us history in the making.

The letter is an appeal dictated by the Rambam to his scribe. When the letter left Egyptian soil, it traveled far. It was read in synagogues before the Holy Ark. Trembling hands touched it; tears of sorrow and pain fell upon it. At last the letter came to Egypt, and was returned to the Rambam. By means of money collected hundreds of captives regained their liberty, families were re-united, children returned to their parents, and broken hearts were healed.

CONSIGNED TO LIBRARY

Together with other letters, it was placed in the library of the Rambam. There it lay among the manuscripts which made new history in Jewish life and thinking; among manuscripts which influenced Christian scholastics to turn from their dogmatic conceptions and to introduce reason into their religion. There it lay near the treatise on resurrection written by the Rambam in which he separated the soul from the body in the world to come.

An unknown hand placed this letter in the Cairo Genizah. There it met many more friends, some of them much older. It slumbered for centuries in that hiding place, covered with dust — forgotten by all, until a gentle hand touched it, shook off the dust, and carefully brought it to light.

This man, the patriarchal and learned Solomon Schechter, carried it away. It traveled over oceans and seas, and came to a new country, unknown in former days.

In the museum of the Jewish Theological Seminary, among other letters which bear the same signature, and other works, written by hand, of the man who signed this letter, it was placed. For centuries separated, they are here reunited.

The world waited almost 800 years to learn from this fragment the tragedy that befell the Jews, and the miraculous service that this letter performed.

FOOD BASKETS GIVEN

Five hundred baskets of Passover food will be distributed by the Gouverneur Street Boys from their clubhouse, 304 Broadway, this (Sunday) morning. Needy families in the neighborhood have received redeemable tickets.