The arrival of the three young men inevitably changed our lives. In each of their faces were bits of the life we had left behind. They brought with them new feelings of disquiet, as well as questions we had stopped asking. They are thrilled by what we do and how organized we are, and by Kamil’s presence. To them he seems like a spiritual leader. Salo examined them and asked Tsila to give them extra food. He also explained that Kamil is a superb commander; to go out with him on a raid is an unforgettable experience.
“But he looks like a philosopher,” Isidor insisted.
“He’s an intellectual, no doubt about it, but first and foremost he is a commander. He believes we must strengthen the Jewish spirit within us. Without spiritual reinforcement, we will not be able to defeat the enemy.”
“He’s a religious believer?” asked Isidor cautiously.
“You might say so but not in a conventional sense.”
Isidor’s questions had transformed Salo from a medic into a loyal disciple.
“Have you heard of Martin Buber?” Salo continued in a tone I didn’t recognize.
“No.”
“Martin Buber collected the teachings of the Ba’al Shem Tov. By the way, this is the land of the Ba’al Shem Tov. Here he walked in seclusion and drew closer to God.”
THAT NIGHT, Werner, our other medic, brought to our attention the verse from Leviticus, “And you shall keep My commandments, and do them; I am the Lord. And you shall not profane My holy name; and I will be hallowed among the children of Israel: I am the Lord who hallows you.”
Werner, a sensitive reader, directed his listeners to the words “I will be hallowed.” God is not removed and distant from human beings but wants them to be near Him and wants to be sanctified by them. People are not the submissive serfs of God, but His partners in managing the world.
Werner is a quiet man, a devoted soldier. When he goes out at night with his squad, he carries a heavier pack than the others because he is the medic. He wasn’t aware that he had just walked into a minefield. The verse he quoted aroused anger. Karl, who had confessed to terrible deeds, raised his voice and shouted, “You are distorting the scriptures. You are making the deity into a humanist. The deity, if there is one, is and always was a dictator. Even in the verse you cited, the word ‘I’ is repeated over and over. He doesn’t want man’s proximity, he wants man’s submission.”
Werner sat there dumbfounded. Karl’s voice, a powerful voice, stunned him. He had innocently thought he was offering a new interpretation and that people would relate to it. He had not anticipated such a flood of anger.
The three newcomers were shocked. The study evening, which had begun with quiet singing around the campfire, had exploded. There were several fighters who defended Werner’s right to speak, but chaos reigned. Werner sat down without a word, realizing that he had offended those for whom any religious thought was anathema. A shouting match broke out, and only in Tsila’s tent, by the big pots of tea, did people calm down.
THAT’S HOW OUR LIFE goes here. At calmer moments we forget that we are surrounded. The enemy is cruel, watching from afar, determined to kill us. Their patrols gather information about us. When they discover the truth about who we are, they will attack us without mercy.
But meanwhile, in the narrow space between what has been and what will be, we are alive, delighted by the forest scenery, by Milio and Michael, by Tsila’s cooking, by the words that pour from Grandma Tsirl’s heart: “Love and teach love; there is nothing in this fleeting world other than love. Love is a gift. The giving does not impoverish us but enlarges our soul. Only a few of us are left, and without great love we diminish God’s world.”
Sometimes Grandma Tsirl seems like a priestess whose tribe has been lost and who tries to pass on to the remaining few, to the embers who have been plucked from the fire, beliefs that are beyond their understanding.