The Chosen

Had my father been well at that time, I would have talked to him about it, but he was in the hospital, recuperating slowly, and I didn't want to upset him with an account of Da

It was bad for my father to get excited that way, but there was nothing I could do to stop him. He could talk of nothing else but the destruction of European Jewry.

One morning at breakfast Reb Saunders came out of a brooding silence, sighed, and for no apparent reason began telling us, in a soft, singsong chant, the story of an old, pious Hasid who had set out on a journey to Palestine – Eretz Yisroel, Reb Saunders called it, giving the land its traditional name and accenting the 'E' and the 'ro' – so as to be able to spend the last years of his life in the Holy Land. Finally, he reached the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, and three days later he died while praying at the Wall for the Messiah to come and redeem his people. Reb Saunders swayed slowly back and forth as he told the story, and when he was done I said quietly, not mentioning my father's name, that a lot of people were now saying that it was time for Palestine to become a Jewish homeland and not only a place where pious Jews went to die. The reaction on the part of the entire family was instantaneous; it was as though someone had thrown a match onto a pile of straw. I could almost feel the heat that replaced the family warmth around the table. Da

'Who are these people? Who are these people?' he shouted in Yiddish, and the words went through me like knives. 'Apikorsim! Goyim! Ben Gurion and his goyim will build Eretz Yisroel? They will build for us a Jewish land? They will bring Torah into this land? Goyishkeit they will bring into the land, not Torah! God will build the land, not Ben Gurion and his goyim! When the Messiah comes, we will have Eretz Yisroel, a Holy Land, not a land contaminated by Jewish goyim!'

I sat there stu

'The land of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob should be built by Jewish goyim, by contaminated men?' Reb Saunders shouted, again. 'Never! Not while I live! Who says these things? Who says we should now build Eretz Yisroel? And where is the Messiah? Tell me, we should forget completely about the Messiah? For this six million of our people were slaughtered? That we should forget completely about the Messiah, that we should forget completely about the Master of the Universe? Why do you think I brought my people from Russia to America and not to Eretz Yisroel? Because it is better to live in a land of true goyim than to live in a land of Jewish goyim! Who says we should build Eretz Yisroel, ah? I'll tell you who says it! Apikorsim say it! Jewish goyim say it! True Jews do not say such a thing!'

There was a long silence. Reb Saunders sat in his chair, breathing hard and trembling with rage.

'Please, you should not get so angry,' Da

'I'm sorry,' I said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

'Reuven was not talking for himself,' Da

But Reb Saunders cut her off with an angry wave of his hand.

He went rigidly through the Grace, then left the kitchen, wearing his rage visibly.

Da

'How was I supposed to know that Zionism is a contaminated idea?' I said. 'My God, I feel as if I've just been through the seven gates of Hell.'

'Herzl didn't wear a caftan and side curls,' Da

'You can't be serious.'

'I'm not talking about myself. I'm talking about my father.

Just don't talk about a Jewish state anymore. My father takes God and Torah very seriously, Reuven. He would die for them both quite gladly. A secular Jewish state in my father's eyes is a sacrilege, a violation of the Torah. You touched a raw nerve. Please don't do it again.'

'I'm glad I didn't mention it was my father who said it. He might have thrown me out of the house.'

'He would have thrown you out of the house,' Da

'Is he – is he feeling all right?'

'How do you mean?'

'The way he cries all the time like that. Is he – is something wrong?'

Da