A Bride for One Night: Talmud Tales

The Knife

99 The Knife Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi clung to them [the lepers] and studied Torah. How did he interpret the verse: “A loving doe, a graceful mountain goat” (Proverbs 5:19)? If the Torah graces those who learn it, will it not also protect me? When he was about to die, the Angel of Death was told: Go and do his [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi’s] will [and let him die however he chooses]. The Angel of Death went and appeared before him. He [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi] said to him: Show me my place [in the world to come]. He said to him: “Surely.” He [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi] said to him: “Give me your knife, lest I be frightened by it along the way.” He gave it to him. When they got there [to the wall of heaven] he lifted him up and showed him [his place in the world to come]. He asked him, “Lift me up a bit more,” and he lifted him up. He [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi] jumped and fell to the other side. The Angel of Death grabbed him by the corner of his garment. He [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi] said to him: I swear I won’t leave this place. The Holy One Blessed Be He said: If he [Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi] ever asked to have one of his vows nullified, he must return; if not, then he need not return. He [the Angel of Death] said to him: “Return my knife.” He did not return it. A voice from above called out: “Give it to him because without it people cannot die.” —B. Ketubot 77b 100 The Knife The lepers were sitting at the entrance to the bathhouse. Some were scratching themselves with their fingernails or pottery shards or clumps of earth they had found. Groups of children would come stare at them and then run away, excited and terrified by their ugliness. They would linger beside one old man who used to expose a hole in the skin of his leg to awaken the mercy of passersby. It was impossible to know whom the terrible disease would strike, and there were many rumors about how to avoid contagion. Most of the lepers were beggars, including one who came from far away, but even in the newer neighborhoods where the wealthiest families lived, there were people with suspicious open wounds. No one dared approach the infected, and in the synagogue they used to quote Rabbi Yohanan, who said that one should even stay away from the flies that had come near them. Those who frequented the bathhouse left red-faced and perfumed with the scent of almond and rose soap. They rushed past the horrific display, concerned to avoid infection. Many would toss a coin into a jar as they passed, reminding themselves that “charity saves from death” (Proverbs 10:2). Righteous women would bring bread or stew to the lepers once or twice a week, but of the sages, only Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi would come close enough to sit among them. Ben Levi would come to the synagogue at sunrise for the morning prayers, and afterward he would return to the street and sit on a mat next to the entrance to the bathhouse, between the lepers and the shady alley where lumps of soap and drying cloths were distributed. The bath attendant, a cheerful, rotund man, knew when to expect Ben Levi and would prepare him a hot drink. Shortly thereafter, the sound of his learning could be heard, calming the sleepy sick, who were still wrapped in filthy blankets like giant cocoons. When they awoke to his chanting, they would file out one by one to greet the new day. Ben Levi would learn until noon, and then he would return to the study house to join the small circle of sages in prayer. In the afternoon until just before evening , he could again be found among the lepers, learning and reviewing , sometimes answering passersby with words of Torah. “Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?” they would wonder. And his wife would cry out angrily, “Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He would smile at her and respond The Knife 101 by quoting the verse, “A loving doe, a graceful mountain goat,” which he would then interpret. “If Torah has graced me such that you agreed to be my wife, will Torah not...