The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

 

 

 

I was scheduled to attend an event in Manhattan on Anti-Semitism one summer evening in July.

As I am not a fan of waiting seemingly forever to cross the Hudson River, I decided to make my way to Manhattan earlier in the day to avoid the rush hour traffic.

I utilized the hours at my disposal to purchase some stationery goods at one of the small local shops that still dot lower Manhattan.

During the walk to the store, my mind was preoccupied with my annual Tisha B'Av lecture.

 

This year, I was partially focusing on Conversos- those Jews who, during the Spanish Inquisition, practiced their Judaism secretly.

Many, of course, would eventually flee Spain, especially during the Spanish colonization of the Americas, and settle in Central and South America.

On Tisha B'av, part of my lecture would include focusing on the Mesirus Nefesh of these Jews.

 

I entered the establishment, and a Hispanic-looking man who introduced himself as Manuel asked how he could help.

I asked for the product I was interested in.

Surprisingly, Manuel said, "I won't sell you that product as the owner of the company that produces that item is a known anti-Semite."

I looked at Manuel, who, besides his accented English, was clearly Latino.

"Are you Jewish?" I asked, while not attempting to hide my surprise.

Manuel said calmly, "Yes, I am."

I responded, "Well, you know what? So am I!"

Despite the summer heat, I was dressed in full rabbinic garb, so my response was a bit rhetorical.

Manuel again responded very quietly, "I know you are. That's why I told you."

He then went on to explain how he had recently heard a podcast from the owner of the company of the product I was interested in, in which he compares the Israeli Defence Force to a genocidal militia.

 

The fact that Manuel equated anti-Israel with anti-Semitism intrigued me even more.

I asked, "Where are you from?"

Manuel then relaxed, put down the item we were discussing, and began his story.

"I told you I am Jewish, and I believe me, I know I am.

However, I realize that I am not fully Jewish as you are.

 You see, I was born in a small rural town in Mexico and knew nothing about Jews or Judaism until I was seventeen years old.

 

I was born with a heart condition.

My mother took me to the best doctors in Mexico to help me. However, they all said, "You must go to New York, that's the only place your son will get the medical treatment he needs."

When I was seventeen, my mother, after saving up for years,  brought me here for medical treatment. We had an appointment with a heart surgeon who informed us that I needed a very complex surgery.

After the medical consultation, we met with the doctor's secretary, who informed us that the surgery would cost $30,000 and inquired about our preferred method of payment.

When my mother heard about the cost of the surgery, she cried out. "There is no way we can afford this. What will happen with my son?!"

Her cries caused quite a commotion, and the doctor rushed in from his inner office to find out what the cries were about.

When he heard that my mother could not afford the surgery, he said,  "I want to save your son's life. Do not worry about the money. I will do the surgery for no charge."

My mother fell to her knees and kissed the doctor's hand.

The doctor insisted my mother stand back up and said, "In my religion, it states that whoever saves one life, saves an entire world."

Neither my mother nor I knew what religion he was, however, we both figured that his religion was connected to the black skull cap he wore on his head.

The surgery was performed, and with G-d's help, the doctor healed me completely.

 

As we were required to be in New York for follow-up visits, the doctor helped us obtain medical non-immigrant visa status, which eventually enabled us to apply for legal immigrant status in the US.

I recovered and began my life in New York.

It was only after the surgery that I realized that the special doctor who saved my life and wore a black skullcap was Jewish.

 

My mother and I never forgot about the Jewish doctor, and we would always bring him fresh fruit as a token of our appreciation at every follow-up visit.

I entered college, and when I saw a listing for a course on Spanish Jewish Heritage, I immediately enrolled. I had to find out more about Jews.

One day, while discussing Spanish-Jewish culture, the professor sang an old Jewish lullaby in Spanish, which he said dated back to the 15th century.

I sat in the lecture hall mesmerized. Indeed, when he stopped halfway through, I just naturally continued with the lullaby, after all, that was the exact same one my grandmother had sung to me.

This was more than a coincidence.

 

When the class lectures moved into the discussion of Crypto-Jews and their continued secret practice of Judaism, I began to connect the dots.

I recalled how in Mexico, every Friday night, wherever we ate dinner, my grandmother would light two candles.

I began researching and discovered that my family emigrated from Spain in the 15^th century.

It was then that I realized I was a Jew.

 

Yet, I knew enough to know that although in my heart I was Jewish, I knew I had to undergo conversion to be fully Jewish.

I began to learn more about Judaism and observe Shabbos and Yom Kippur.

And then came October 7, 2023.

Suddenly, I felt my connection to the Jewish people and to Israel became stronger than ever.

I decided that I would become a full Jew in the land of the Jews in the State of Israel.

Perhaps one day I will have enough money to go there and fulfill my dream.

That's why I work full-time in the store to eventually have the money to go to Israel."

 

I listened to Manuel's tale with rapt attention.

As the hour was late and I was due to speak at the event, I parted ways with Manuel with the Brocha, "Trust in Hashem. He has not abandoned you until now, and He will never abandon you."

I told him we would stay in touch, and we exchanged contact information.

 

This week, just days after I returned from Israel, my phone rang.

It was Manuel.

"Rabbi, I know you won't believe me, but I am calling you from Yerushalayim!"

"What? How?" I asked. I had not heard from him since our July meeting and could not fathom what had transpired.

Manuel continued, "Last month, I had my yearly check-up with the cardiologist; you know the Jewish one?"

"Of course, I remember him well," I said.

Manuel continued, "When I went to him, I decided to wear my Kippah. After all, after seeing how proudly and openly you display your Jewishness, I decided to at least wear my Kippah to my Jewish doctor."

 

As soon as I walked in, the doctor said, " I never knew you were Jewish."

I told him my entire story, including my dream to go to Israel and live a proper Jewish life, and how you had told me to have trust in Hashem, that He would never abandon me.

Surprisingly, the doctor began to cry and said, "Manuel, you confided in me your story; it's now my turn to confide in you. This morning, my wife and I were discussing what our legacy will be. You see, although I am a cardiologist with a specialty in pediatrics, my wife and I were never privileged to have children.

Manuel, I have always considered you one of my children.

However, I cannot lie, I always wanted a Jewish child.

Manuel, this morning, I davened to Hashem to show me the Jewish child whom I will be proud to count as my legacy.

And just a few hours later, you come into my office with a Kippah and tell me you want to be a full-fledged Jew.

Manuel, I consider you my Jewish child, and I therefore must support you in your spiritual journey. Manuel, I promise you, you will be in Israel before this Rosh Hashanah!"

 

He then took out his credit card and, right there in the office, booked me a ticket to Israel, and he gave me a generous stipend as well.

 

Rabbi, I am calling you from the Kotel. I am in the midst of becoming a full Jew. I am fulfilling my dream. You were right, Hashem never abandoned me."

I was speechless.

"Manuel, this story must be told to the world. Could you please tell me who this doctor is? We must publicize this Chesed!"

Manuel hesitated and then said, "I cannot tell you his name. My 'new-father', the doctor, made one condition on his gift."

"And what was that?" I asked.

He made me promise that until he leaves this world, I would never reveal his name.

I daven every day to Hashem that I will be able to keep his promise for many more years…"