The Brodie Chronicles (Focus Pesach 5767)

Having contributed several sermonettes to the Focus under the above heading, it came to me as I sat down to write this one, that Chronicles is a title more suited for personal stories from my life’s experiences. So here is one from my childhood, and it begins with Hashkomoh, early Tefilla not only on weekdays, when people start work early, but also on Shabbat when one could have a Shloff.  I have not conducted a survey to ascertain the variety of reasons which attract some 50 devotees to Stenecourt at the unearthly hour of 7:30am even on a dark winter’s Shabbat morning.  No sermon could possibly be the common denominator. 

Until I came to England at the age of fourteen, I was in Shool every morning at 6:30am, since school started at 8 am.  But it may surprise you that even on Shabbat, depending on the season of the year, we davened at 7:45am or 7:15am, and that was not the Hashkomoh, but the regular Tefilla at the many Shools in the thriving community of Bratislava.  The only late Tefilla was at the Great Synagogue, where lovers of Chazanut could enjoy magnificent exponents of the calibre of Shlomo Zalman Stern kwwz, whom old-timers recall with nostalgia as the Chazan of Manchester’s United Synagogue and later of Leeds’ United Hebrew Congregation.  When we came home from Shool, my dear father ל”ז made Kiddush with Liqueur, and I loved a sip of Kümel or Pear-brandy (Drambuie was not known), followed by coffee and two slices of Nusskuchen or Mohnkuchen, lovingly baked and served by my wonderful mother ה”ע.

Summer and winter, we davened Mincha soon after noon.  I have also not made a survey as to how Stenecourt’s early-birds spend Shabbat mid-morning, and would like to think that many of them have Chavrutot or learn with their children.  As for me and my Bratislavian contemporaries – we went to School. Not for lessons, but for a “Verhoer,” a public examination.

Let me explain. At the age of 11 we transferred from Jewish Elementary School to Yesodei HaTorah. There were six classes, but bright boys skipped Class I and Class II.  I joined the “B” stream of Class III. (You will know that when people ask me “have you really been at Stenecourt for over sixty years?”, I tell them that I was a child prodigy).

Six days a week, with an earlier finish on Fridays, from 8am to noon and 2pm to 5pm, we learned Limudei Kodesh, with two different Tractates of Gemara as the main subjects.  At 5pm, we walked over to the Jewish Secondary School, attended by sons of the less devout members of the community, where an Evening course for secular studies was provided for Yesodei Hatorah boys like me.  There was an end of year examination supervised by the city’s education authority, for which we were released early from our Kodesh lessons for some 4 weeks to enable us to swot.  I do not think for a moment that this minimal secular training would have qualified us to proceed with further education, but in any case almost all Yesodei Hatorah graduates went on to Yeshivah, of which there were many in Slovakia, including the famous local Chasam Sofer Yeshivah.

Back to the Shabbat morning exam, which was carried out not by our Rebbe, but by a learned member of the Kehilla.  We would be called to his desk one at a time and tested on the week’s studies.  Some of the examiners were easy on us, and others put us through the mill.  These weekly sessions were open to the public, and my dear father ל”ז, who made a living as a commercial traveller, but was a Yeshivah graduate, came along every week to hear how my siblings and I were doing, since he always took a deep interest in our Chinuch.

After Mincha, on the way home, I collected our Cholent which had been deposited Erev Shabbat at the Bakery, and which I identified with my half of the cloakroom ticket which was pasted on the Cholent-pot, yes, we had an Eruv, as did all the Jewish communities in Europe. On that controversial note, I conclude this chapter of the Brodie Chronicles.

Well, not quite, since they must somehow, include a topical message.  “Vehigadeta l’vincha” – you shall relate to your children, is the highlight of the Seder and the keynote of Pesach, when we have an opportunity, a religious precept, nay a mission, to hear of the remarkable knowledge our children have imbibed at our excellent Jewish schools.  Once a year, in the course of two Sedorim, we fulfil our duty of sharing with our children the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim and its key significance in Jewish life.

 But there is another commandment – “V’Shinantam l’vanecha,” you shall teach Torah diligently, which we repeat twice daily in our Shema.  It is an ongoing task.  “And you shall speak of it,” continues the Shema, “when you sit in your house and when you go on your way, when you lie down and when you rise.”  Only thus will we ensure that our children carry forward our heritage. 

As a role model, I recall and honor the memory of my dear Father and his Eshet Chayil, kwwz swwhv.