Free Rashi by Elie Wiesel Page B

mentioned earlier, when the first Crusade began, Rashi was fifty-five years old. He would live another ten years. He worked more, and better, than usual. His creativity was boundless. Pamphlets, halakhic decisions, new commentaries, the revision of earlier ones: he surpassed himself.
    But how was this possible psychologically? How had he managed not to see, hear, or know what was going on so close to his own city? Were his powers of concentration so great and sustained? Admittedly, for incomprehensible reasons, neither his family nor his community suffered. Oddly,Troyes was miraculously spared. But Mainz and Worms, two cities he knew well for having spent years there with his mentors, were not far away; travelers and messengers went back and forth regularly. Rashi must have had reports, if only scant ones, of the bloodbaths that had taken place in those cities. Proof: in his commentary on the Psalms, one senses his inability to hide or contain his anguish. Of course, technically, he is commenting on ancient, biblical times, but we can guess that he is actually describing his own times.
    In some of his litanies of penitence, he implores God to collect the tears of children in His chalice. And he implores the holy Torah to intercede up high in favor of those who give up their lives for His glory.
    Are these remarks related to the tragic events that were then unfolding in so many communities on the banks of the Rhine and far away, in Palestine?
    Is his beautiful introduction (unique in its kind) to the Song of Songs a response—his response—to the pain and misfortune that have befallen his people? It expresses a stirring, very moving appeal. His aim: to bring consolation and hope to the persecuted. He says: “This song has often been commented on in the Midrashic sources, but I say that King Solomon had foreseen the time when the Children of Israel would be deported from one exile to another, from one disaster to another. And that they would lament, while recalling their past glory and the love that made them different from others. And they will remember the promises made byGod.” And, Rashi adds, citing the prophets, “God will reassure them, saying that He too remembers the promises, and that their marriage is still valid: He did not send them away, Israel is still His wife and He will return to her.”
    Let us recall that for centuries, the faith of the Jewish people had been subjected to harsh trials in many lands. But never before with the same forceful cruelty as in Rashi’s century. There were powerful elements within Christendom for whom the conversion of the Jews represented a supreme duty.
    The Crusades did not come about suddenly like a clap of thunder. The groundwork had been laid by a social and religious anti-Semitism, by a noxious and sometimes lethal poison that bides its time and then strikes.
    Usually the Jews resisted temptations and threats. But there were exceptions: voluntary conversions.
    Rashi had to answer a question concerning a converted man who chose to return to the Jewish faith: what was the proper attitude to have toward him?
    In fact, the Troyes community had already raised this problem much earlier in a letter to Rabbenu Gershom, the Light of Exile. A man who had converted voluntarily, a Cohen—hence a descendant from the line of Aaron—repented. Should he be allowed to take up his previous life? Could tradition be followed and could he be summoned toread the Torah before the others? The Cohens also have the task of blessing the assembly. Should this man be allowed to do so?
    Rabbenu Gershom’s answer was positive in both cases. His argument, of a general character, is simple and human. He is against any discrimination or humiliation of the reformed man and his family if he was coerced into converting. (This happened to his very own son.) Worse: whoever reminds him of his baptism will be banished forever. Having recovered his rights as a Jew, all the biblical and Talmudic laws are