The Romantic Messiah

But now the song that had so excited her rose stronger, nearer. Then an immense joy filled her soul. She was free. The sobbing voice she had so long awaited called to her. It was her mother’s voice.

She rose, forgetting her pain, and walked among the sepulchres toward the voice. She had not seen that two boys, observing her, had rushed to the cemetery gate. She did not hear their shouts, she was moving toward the voice.

And then a Jew stood in her way, wrapped her in a black veil and took her by the hand.

Sarah’s disappearance upset the whole convent; the Mother Superior was very fond of the girl and the Bishop himself was concerned about her disappearance. They very quickly discovered her footprints in the wet grass under the window of her cell, and the Mother Superior ordered that Sarah should be sought in the Jewish community, which was the only place where she would be given refuge.

The Chaplain of the convent, sceptical and debonnair, went to the Rabbi with whom he had friendly relations. The latter received him cordially and asked, with an innocent air, what was the object of his visit.

The priest described the flight of their young Sister Sarah, a Jewish orphan, who had been rescued in the street by the Abbess during the Cossack massacres. Sarah, he said, loved the convent, and she was devoted to the Catholic faith. The Mother Superior was sure the Rabbi knew where the fugitive was, for she could have fled only to the Jews. And the Chaplain requested that for the sake of their good relations as neighbors, the Rabbi should aid in returning the young girl to the convent.

“Reverend Father,” said his interlocutor, “I share the Mother Superior’s sorrow. Her zeal is worthy of emulation. But if God has willed that a young Jewish girl should leave a Catholic convent-and except by His Holy will not one hair can fall from our heads-of what help can a poor Jewish Rabbi be to the Mother Superior?”

The Chaplain, who was not without perspicacity, saw that his mission had failed and departed without insisting.

But the Rabbi knew that things would not stop there. He knew the obstinate and commanding temper of the Mother Superior. She would appeal to the Bishop, to the civil authorities, to the King himself. If Sarah remained in Poland, she would be found and taken back by force. Now it was certainly pleasing to God that this lost Jewish lamb whom He had so miraculously returned to the fold be not again torn away from it. Therefore the Rabbi decided to send Sarah secretly to Amsterdam, where the Israelites were rich and powerful.

Although the Jews were scattered throughout the world, they felt they belonged to a single and undivided community, for the ties which bound them were stronger than the frontiers of nations, They lived among Christians, returning love for love, hatred for hatred, but partaking in neither their wars nor their pleasures. They found happiness only among themselves, in their homes and synagogues. And every Jewish traveller felt at peace in the circle of his own race.

Therefore, without uneasiness or hesitation, the Rabbi entrusted Sarah to an unknown Jewish merchant going to Dantzig. He was sure the young girl would find shelter and protection everywhere, and that she would reach Amsterdam by way of Hamburg, without trouble.

(To be continued tomorrow. In the next chapter the reader will meet Moses Pinheiro, Samuel Primo, and other mystics and sealots of the Zohar and Kabballah.)