The Rabbi and The Rebbetzin (32 page)

“Oh,
wow!” Levine exclaimed. “That girl is a real winner. You now have the money to
buy seven more row houses and build the Taj Mahal on your land. Let me think
about your project and when I have time I will look into it further.”

Some
weeks Chana Levine stayed with Shulamit for a few days after the weekend.
Otherwise, she went home with Abe Levine on Sunday morning. One morning she was
talking to Shulamit and said to her, “Shulamit, we have to discuss some matters
concerning childbirth.”

Shulamit
smiled and said, “Sure, Mother, what would you like to know?”

Mrs.
Levine did not take umbrage with her daughter. She knew that Shulamit was
joking and that her daughter was a very obedient and respectful child.

“Listen
mother,” Shulamit said, “I am already attending a childbirth class at the
clinic at the University of Pennsylvania.

“What
do they know there?” Chana asked. “I’ve had four fine children and I could
teach them a thing or two.”

“OK,
Mother,” Shulamit answered. “I’m listening to you, but no bubbe meises (grandmother’s
tales).”

“I’m
a very modern woman, Shulamit, but the advice my mother gave me was extremely
rational and helpful.”

On
the advice of her doctor, Shulamit made reservations for childbirth at the
University of Pennsylvania Medical Center. Aaron advised her that both he and
Bernie could drive with her to the hospital on Shabbos if necessary. Bernie was
permitted to drive the car back home after driving Shulamit.

Aaron
said he would be happy whenever the baby arrives but he would prefer that it
not be on Shabbos.

“What’s
the difference,” Shulamit asked, “if you are allowed to drive me on Shabbos?”

“I’m
not thinking of childbirth, I’m thinking of the bris (circumcision).”

“You
don’t believe in the circumcision of women?” Shulamit asked.

“Certainly
not,” Aaron said.

“You
know that a little less than half the babys born in this world are girls?”

“I
heard about it in my sociology class, but I’d rather have my firstborn be a
male, even though we will be exempt from the redemption ritual, because you
stem from a Levitical tribe.”

“I
will be happy whatever God sends us. If it is a boy I can tell you that I’ve
chosen the name of Yehudah for him, in memory of my grandfather Yehudah Levine.
Do you have a choice for a second name?”

“We
will give him a second name of Nathan, in memory of the founder of our rabbinic
dynasty, Rabbi Nathan Adler of Frankfort, of blessed memory.”

“What’s
the problem with a bris on Shabbos?” Shulamit asked.

“I
suspect that your father will want to bring Reverend Martin to conduct the bris
.
Your father has been present at many circumcisions conducted by Reverend Martin
and he has great trust in him. It may be hard for Reverend Martin to spend a
Shabbos away from home or hard for him to leave Beth Israel. In an emergency, I
think that Rabbi Solomon could fill in for Reverend Martin. Your father doesn’t
know any of the mohalim in Philadelphia.”

“Where
will the bris be held?” Shulamit wanted to know.

“If
it is on Shabbos, it will be held at Ahavat Achim. All the members of our
family are able to walk to Ahavat Achim from the hotel. If the bris is in the
middle of the week, I am sure your father will take the grand ballroom of the Four
Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia. Is it possible that you would be in condition to
travel to Pittsburgh for the bris?”

“Many
women attend the bris of their own children when the ceremony is held locally,
but this journey would have to be by plane. I wouldn’t want to endanger Yehudah
in any way.”

“You
believe in the circumcision of girls?”

“Certainly
not! Nor would I have any intention of telling you, if I were certain. Remember
you taught me that Jacob’s child was conceived as a male but Leah prayed that
the gender of the child be changed from male to female and thus Dina was born.
It is against the traditions of religious women to discuss the gender of unborn
children for fear of an
ayin-hara
(evil eye).”

With
that, the discussion was ended. Shulamit chose to say no more because she knew
for a fact and from many ultrasound tests that a boy was on the way.

On
Wednesday, two weeks after Chanukah, Shulamit went into labor. Her doctor was
notified and Bernie drove Aaron and Shulamit to the hospital. Aaron could have
driven her himself but he was far too nervous to drive and Bernie had to make
the trip. As a first birth, it was a long, painful period of labor, but a
healthy baby was delivered to Shulamit at 1:00 PM on Thursday.

After
hearing that Shulamit was in labor, Mr. and Mrs. Levine took the first plane to
Philadelphia on Thursday morning. They arrived at the hospital before the baby
was delivered and cried in happiness when they saw their first grandson.

“I
can’t give out cigars,” Abe Levine said, “because I don’t smoke anymore. I can’t
give you a drink because they don’t serve alcohol in the hospital. But Friday
night we can celebrate at a
Shalom zachar,
the welcoming ceremony for a
boy on the Shabbos preceding the bris. Maybe we’ll have time to arrange a Kiddush
in Ahavat Achim for this Shabbos after the davening.”

Aaron
managed to get a few days off from his work to help arrange the bris on the
following Thursday. Levine also managed to take most of the week off and his
wife arranged to stay till after the bris. Shulamit was discharged from the
hospital by Sunday and was able to offer ideas but not do much work. The nanny
helped her in many ways and Shulamit was able to start nursing the baby. Abe
Levine worked with Aaron on the religious ceremony and the
seudah
, the festive
meal following the bris. He booked the date for the bris and the ceremony at
the Four Seasons hotel.

They
divided the guest list between the two of them. Abe took care of the shul
members and all his senior employees at Telacomp. He charted a plane that would
leave Pittsburgh at 7:15 AM and arrive in Philadelphia at 9:00 AM. A bus would
take his guests to the hotel.

“Do
you have any room for my guests?” Aaron asked. “I need about fourteen seats.”

“No
problem,” Abe said. “I take it that you will give me the names of those you
have in mind. I assume that you will include Reverend Martin and his wife in
your list. I very much want him to perform the bris
and conduct the
services.”

“Rabbi
Rosenberg, the dean of the yeshiva, will be the
sandak
(Godfather) and
he will probably bring his wife. Rabbi and Mrs. Bernstein and Rabbi and Mrs.
Weiss, makes it six. I will invite Rabbi Solomon and his wife, but I am not
sure that he could take the time off. I do want to invite the sisterhood
president, Mrs. Farber, and her husband and the Gabbai and his wife.” When he
had completed the guest list, Aaron sat down to make up the list of honors.

The
hardest part of the honors list was the
kvater
couple.
Kvater
,
from the German word denoting substitute father, consisted of a couple who were
married but had no children. The wife called a
kvaterin
should not even be
pregnant. The duty of the
kvaterin
at the bris was to take the newborn
baby and pass him to her husband the
kvater
. He in turn passes the baby
to the father of the child or to the Mohel who placed the baby on the chair of
Elijah. The traditional requirements arose because it was believed that by
serving as
kvaters
at a bris, the couple would in turn be blessed with a
child of their own as a reward.

Aaron
was perplexed as to where he could find a
kvater
couple who would meet the
requirements, until Shulamit reminded him of his yeshiva friend, Shalom Pinkes.

“Don’t
forget that if the shul committee had appointed Shalom as the rabbi, I would
now be Rebbetzin Pinkes instead of Rebbetzin Adler. I heard from you that
Shalom is working at a yeshiva in New York and he just got married to a nice
young girl this past Chanukah. She could not yet be verifiably pregnant at this
time. You are in contact with him so you have his number. I promise not to be
jealous of his young wife.”

Aaron
called Shalom and extended an invitation. He told Shalom that he and his new
wife would have a seat on the bus that was taking the Adler family from New
York to Philadelphia. Aaron had called his father and asked him to charter a
bus for the whole family, including all the aunts, uncles, their children and
close family friends. Shalom thanked Aaron for advising him about the bris and
said, God willing, he and his wife would attend.

What
was left for Aaron to do was to assign honors to his father and father-in-law.
Following the actual circumcision, the conductor of the bris sings special
blessings. The infant is held by an honoree and the honor itself is called
amidah
le’brachot
, standing with the baby as the blessings are pronounced. There
are two blessings, one thanking God for sanctifying us with the commandment of
circumcision, and the other in which the child is named. Normally, one of the
grandfathers stands for both parts. Having two grandfathers to honor, Aaron
took the option of dividing the parts among the two men. His own father would
stand for the first part, and Abe Levine would stand for the naming of the
child.

 Abe
was intensely happy that such a beautiful child would be named Yehudah, after
his father. Aaron’s father was a little more skeptical with the name Nathan.
True, Rabbi Nathan Adler was a founder of the great rabbinic dynasty of the
Adler family, but Rabbi Nathan Adler was born in 1709 and not known to any of
those attending the bris. He reconciled himself to the name with the knowledge
that his grandson would be named after one of the outstanding scholars of
Western Europe.

The
bris
was celebrated as scheduled. The plane and the bus came in on time.
The bris was safely performed and mother and baby were feeling fine. Any anxiety
that Shulamit had before the bris was dissipated with her happiness of being a
mother of such a wonderful child. Since everyone attending was armed with
cameras, she had a perfect record of the events.

Only
a few members of the family stayed for the Sabbath. When everyone was gone,
Shulamit and her family settled down to normal living.

For
the following Shabbos, Rabbi Adler invited the Gabbai, Mr. Stern, and his wife
for dinner. After the meal, Adler and the Gabbai had a long private
conversation. The subject of conversation was Ahavat Achim and its future.

Aaron
said to the Gabbai, “It’s hard for me to accept the idea that a shul with such
a glorious history in the life of the Jewish community should be left to die a
slow painful death. The members are mostly aged and a number of them are
planning to move to Florida. When that happens, the minyan will not be able to
continue and the officers will start talking about selling the shul entirely. At
the moment, my wife and I are the only younger members who daven with you.”

“It
is a sad situation,” Mr. Stern agreed, “but this is an historical determination.
Do you know of any old congregation that has been revitalized? Were it not for
our children, this shul would not have even been maintained.”

Aaron
replied, “Although this is generally the case, it is not inevitable that a shul
should pass away. There are some circumstances that are different with Ahavat
Achim and which justify some hope for survival.

“First,
we are in the area of the University of Pennsylvania, which will always attract
some traditional faculty and students. The university is ranked ninth in the
United States, and many faculty members make it their life’s work. Students are
more transient, but still they stay here for four or more years. I feel that if
we exert ourselves, we can influence students to daven here and faculty members
to live nearby.”

Mr.
Stern was not very enthusiastic. “It’s a wonderful idea,” he said, “but it is not
realistic. We need a charismatic rabbi and the means to upgrade the building.
We simply don’t have the manpower or the funds to invest in such an effort.
Older members are not as enthusiastic as they used to be and they do not have
the energy or the desire to build a shul which many of them will not use in the
future.”

Aaron
had expected such arguments and he tried to counter them. “All of your
objections are sound except for the one about the means. Don’t worry about
money. My wife and I will raise or donate all the money that is needed for
renovation. I’m sure you met Abe Levine, who has many millions at his disposal
and who has indicated that he would generously support such a project.”

“Rabbi
Adler,” Mr. Stern responded, “your wife no longer studies at the law school.
She can live anywhere in Philadelphia or the suburbs. You yourself can teach
anywhere in the public schools and can live wherever you want to. Why would you
invest your time and money in an antiquated shul? What’s in it for you?”

Aaron
responded, “Let me explain my situation to you. My wife did not choose me to be
her husband because I was a public school teacher. She had many rich and
intellectual suitors, but she chose me because of my faith and my spiritual
character. She saw me practice in Beth Israel and was impressed by my
rabbinical work. She discarded all the other men in my favor and she’s not
happy when she sees me teaching eighth-grade students in run-down schools.