S. Agnon - A Guest for the NIght

The rabbi rose, took both my hands in his, and said, “Sit down, sir, sit down, sir.” He too sat down, put his head between his hands, and said nothing. Finally he raised his head, fixed his eyes on me to tell me something, and could not find the word to say.

The rabbi’s wife came in, bringing citron preserves and two glasses of tea. When her husband saw her he said, “This gentleman is going to the Land of Israel and we shall remain here. Sweeten your tea, sir, and drink while it is hot. Take some preserves, it is citron preserves.”

So as to take my leave of the rabbi with a blessing, I drank a little, tasted a little, and finally recited the blessing, “Who createst many living beings and their wants.” Then I asked how his son was. The rabbi rose, took a bundle of papers and laid them in front of me, saying, “Oh, stuff and nonsense.” I rose from my chair and took my leave of them. The rabbi shook my hand and said nothing at all. Then he laid his hand on mine again and stood in silence. I took my hand out of his quietly and left. He came after me to see me on my way.

As we stood by the doorpost, he took out a zloty and said, “I want to make you my messenger for a good deed. Give it to the first poor man you find in the Land of Israel.” “Perhaps,” said I, “the first one I meet will be one of those your honor is in the habit of disparaging.” The rabbi answered, “Thy people are all righteous: they shall inherit the Land forever. If a man has gained the privilege of dwelling in the Land of Israel, it is a sign that he is righteous.” “Not everyone who dwells in the Land of Israel is righteous,” I replied. “There are people among us who pretend to be righteous and denounce the truly righteous.” Said the rabbi, “‘What have you to do with the secrets of the Merciful One?’”

How great is the love for the Land of Israel! Because I came from there I was given the honor of being Sandak. Not the town rabbi, nor Rachel’s father, but I, who am neither a great scholar nor a member of the family.

I remembered my grandfather, of blessed memory, who was the Sandak for most of the people in the town, and there was not a man in the town for whom my grandfather had acted as Sandak to whom he did not send a gift on his wedding day. It happened that a certain man had a quarrel at law with another, so they went to the rabbi and he ruled against him. So the man went and slandered the other to the authorities. The rabbi asked my grandfather to give this man the privilege of being Sandak, so that the good deed should stand him in good stead before the Almighty. There was a piece of honey cake lying in a dish from one circumcision to the next, with a bell-glass over it, and my grandfather used to give me some whenever he tested me in the Gemara and I knew my lessons. Now I sit and marvel that I have attained my grandfather’s place without attaining a single one of his virtues.

Since I got up in the morning my knees had been knocking together. The soul was prepared to fulfill the commandment, but the body was afraid. Perhaps if they had circumcised the child in the Great Synagogue or the old Beit Midrash, as our fathers used to do, I would not have worried so much. First, because in the old Beit Midrash I am one of the family, and second, because Father Elijah is very punctilious and will not sit on those chairs where people have spent their time in jesting and trivialities. I said to myself: If you cannot improve the chair, improve the one who will sit on it.

The guests assembled and stood waiting for the town rabbi, who was the mohel who performed the circumcision. Meanwhile, the door opened and in came Daniel Bach, whom the owner of the hotel had cordially invited, and who had made it up with him. Great is the power of a religious duty, for it makes peace between man and his neighbor.

Now I will tell you something more: even Erela came, that Erela who had been meant for Yeruham from the hour of her birth, but Yeruham had married Rachel, so Erela had been left without a husband. And if you do not believe me, just wait a moment and you shall see the honor they paid her, by asking her to bring in the infant.

After an hour, or perhaps less, the rabbi came. He looked graciously upon everyone and asked if everything was ready for the ceremony. He stood chatting with one and chatting with another, then he took out the circumcision knife, laid it in carbolic, washed his hands with soap and water, and said to the doctor, “Cleanliness leads to purity.”

They wrapped up the child from the waist down to the heels with several swaddling clothes, put a cap of white silk on his head, and handed him over to Erela. Erela came into the hall, carrying the infant. All the people stood up and recited aloud, “Blessed be he that cometh!” Erela handed over the child to Kuba and Kuba handed him over to the mohel.

The mohel held him affectionately, looked at him kindly, and chanted aloud, “The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Abraham: Walk before me and be thou innocent.” The child looked at him and tried to hide his face in the old man’s beard, because it was warm. A hair tickled his nose and he began to sneeze. The mohel handed him over to Rachel’s father, who took him in his arms and laid him on the chair that had been prepared for Elijah the Prophet. As he laid him down he chanted in a quavering voice: “This is the chair of Elijah the Prophet, of blessed memory.”

The infant thought to himself: “Where is Father Elijah? For eight days he has not shown himself to me. Again he has flown off like a bird and is going about among the people.” He pricked up his ears and wondered whether he should be angry with Elijah for going away, or be happy that he was coming back. He wriggled in his swaddling clothes and tried to take out his hands to grasp Elijah’s girdle, so as to climb up to heaven and study the Torah. And when he remembered those days in which he was surrounded by well-being and was taught the entire Torah, a smile came to his lips. He wanted to repeat what he had learned but found he had forgotten it. He opened his mouth and started to feel with his tongue. He felt the cleft on his upper lip, where the angel had struck him on the mouth and made him forget the entire Torah. With the shock, he started to cry.

As he was weeping and lamenting over the primal months which had gone by, never to return, he remembered the oath that had been administered to him at the hour when he came out into the light of the world: that he would be righteous and not wicked, and preserve his soul in purity. Dread fell upon him. He said to himself, “I am an infant. What will become of me?” So he closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping. It seemed to him that the day of his death had already arrived and he had nothing to fear, for he had committed no sins and his soul was still pure as on the day it had been given him from heaven. So he closed his mouth and stopped weeping, lay there quietly, and did not utter a sound.

The mohel came forward and recited, “For Thy salvation I hope, for Thy salvation I hope. Elijah, messenger of the Covenant, behold thy infant is before thee, stand by my right hand and support me.” The infant twitched his nose and began to sniff. He said, Tf Elijah’s girdle smells of light, it is a sign that my soul has returned to heaven, and if it is of leather, it is a sign that I am lying among human beings.” The mohel chanted with a trill, “I have hope for thy salvation,” and went on with the rest of the prayer. Then he bent down, picked up the child from the chair, and said to me, “Sit.” I wrapped myself in my tallit and sat down.

They came and put a little cushion on my knee and set a footstool at my feet. The mohel put the infant on my knees and put my right hand under the child’s knees, with my thumb on the infant’s legs, for so long as he has not entered the Covenant, one may fear that he might spurn the commandment.