The Genizah at the House of Shepher

Fiction · Excerpts · January 22, 2005

The Genizah at the House of Shepher

When I think of the longing which filled my father and great-grandfather I remember that they were Jerusalemites: my father by birth and my great-grandfather by adoption. Jerusalem is a place which engenders longing.

I cannot help regarding the city as a strange accident. It is not positioned on any trade route. Nor is it really in the ideal position for a political capital. The region is hostile to both industry and agriculture. For centuries the nations have dreamed of it returning to some state of glory which supposedly it once possessed, but Jerusalem remains obstinately provincial, gripped by that spirit of desolation so often associated with the presence of God.

The road from the coast to Jerusalem winds from the plains to the hills. It passes through the territory of Abu Ghosh, past the monastery of Latrun and through the dark ravine of Bab el Wad, the Gate of the Vale. If the nations ever stream towards Zion, they must pass through this sinister gorge. It has always been a place of ambush.

The Jews captured Jerusalem from the Jebusites, the Babylonians from the Jews and the Persians from the Babylonians. The Greeks snatched it from the Persians, the Maccabees from the Greeks and the Romans from the Maccabees. The Temple of Solomon was thrown down and rebuilt, was dedicated, desecrated and resanctified, and at last destroyed under the Emperor Titus, for which act he was punished in the following manner: a gnat, entering his head, knocked against his brain for seven years, and when he died they opened his brain and found there something like a sparrow.

As for the Temple treasures, they have been sighted all over the world: two pillars in San Giovanni in Porta Latina, Rome; a bronze candelabrum in the cathedral at Prague; another in Constantinople. The golden plate of the High Priest was taken to Rome; other gold and silver items were hidden in a tower at Barsippa and under the great willow tree in Tel Beruk. The throne of Solomon itself was taken from Babylon to Persia, from there to Greece and Rome, “and,” writes Rabbi Eliezer son of Rabbi Yossi, “I saw its fragments in Rome.”

The Byzantines took the city from the Romans, the Arabs from the Byzantines, the Crusaders from the Arabs. The Jews returned, were exiled, returned; were tolerated, banned and readmitted. The Crusaders gave way to the Mamelukes and the Mamelukes to the Ottoman Turks.

The Sephardi Jews fled there from the Inquisition, from southern Europe and the Arab lands. The Ashkenazi Jews came from Poland, dressed in white robes, with their leader, Rabbi Judah the Pious.

When they reached Jerusalem Rabbi Judah the Pious founded a synagogue, and died. His followers mortgaged the synagogue and living quarters at a high rate of interest and could not pay. They were driven out and the synagogue burned. That was the end of the first settlement.

A hundred years later, seventy students of the Gaon of Vilna made the journey to Jerusalem: from Shakluv by raft along the rivers, and from Odessa by fishing-boat to Jaffa. Disguised in eastern dress they gained admittance to the city, and settled around the ruined synagogue of Rabbi Judah the Pious.

When my great-grandfather arrived Jerusalem was still contained within its walls. The gates were locked at night and reopened in the morning, and all around lay wilderness, wild animals and robbers.

Perhaps the wilderness has been exaggerated. There were also villages: Et Tur, Lifta, Deir Yassin. Vegetables were grown in the village of Silwan, roses were brought from Kolonya. The roses were sold by weight, and in season the fellaheen women could be seen soaking them in the aqueduct on their way up to the Jaffa Gate.

There was the city of streets and there was the city of roofs. It was possible to cross Jerusalem without setting foot on the ground. Every cat knew this and so did every robber. On cool evenings the citizens of Jerusalem went up onto the roofs and enjoyed the breeze. Women sat behind perforated walls where they could observe without being observed. Neighbours could be visited by stepping from one roof to the next.