Honest Scales

Honest Scales
Rabbi Ari S. Lorge 

In a certain synagogue in Eastern Europe, if you walk into the entrance, you’ll see many normal things:

• Tzedakah box
• Bookshelves with mish mash of prayerbooks well worn
• An old chair for Elijah that is taken out for the brit mila ceremony
  

But, prominently displayed on the Eastern wall is something you wont find anywhere else…An ordinary pair of grocers scales.

If you asked the shamash, the caretaker, of the synagogue what they were doing there…he would tell you this story:

Long, long ago, a drought came upon the land.
Months went by without any rain.
The wells dried up.
The land became scorched.
Crops failed.
If felt like the town was doomed.

What do Jews do in such situations?
Well, in these days they went to the rabbi.

The rabbi did what any pious man would do.

He prayed. No rain.
He gathered the great wise ones of the town to pray in front of the 3 holy Torah scrolls. No rain.
He shut himself up in his room and prayed for 3 days and 3 nights without a break. No rain.
He proclaimed fast days on Mondays and Thursdays as prescribed by the Law. No rain.

One night, long past midnight, the rabbi sat alone deep in prayer.
Suddenly, he seemed to fall asleep.
As if in a dream, he heard a voice call out:

“These prayers will bring you nothing. Only one man in the town can help. Kaufman the grocer. Let all the Jews in town assemble at the synagogue and let Kaufman lead the congregation in prayer.”
The rabbi awoke and decided that it had only been a dream.

He knew Kaufman the grocer. And there was no way Kaufman could save the community.

Kaufman never came to synagogue.
He was not able to read the prayer service – let alone lead it.
Kaufman was known for one thing, and one thing only – Feh.

If you asked Kaufman to help fetch you a certain turnip in the crate, he would reply: Feh
If you asked Kaufman to help with your cart that got caught in the mud road, he would reply: Feh
If you asked Kaufman if you could pay another day since it was almost Shabbat, he would reply: Feh
If you asked Kaufman to add dill to his kreplach like they did in the big town, he would reply: Feh

The rabbi laughed – Kaufman the grocer save the town!
Clearly he was more wore down than he thought.
There was no way the Almighty chose Kaufman the Grocer to save the village.
It was just a dream.

He went back to his prayer. Once again praying all day and all night.

But once again, he dozed off, as the morning dawned.

In his dream, a voice spoke once again, “Why do you continue to pray when you know that it will not help. Only Kaufman the grocer’s prayers will save the community.”

He awoke with a jolt, and decided he couldn’t ignore a message twice given.

He gathered the elders of the town and ordered them to bring every member of the village to the synagogue.

Within an hour the pews were filled.
People mumbled nervously and confusedly. They did not know what to expect, or what new idea the rabbi had come up with to awaken God’s mercy.

The rabbi rolled his eyes, for who was the last to arrive. None other than Kaufman who found a seat in the last seat of the last row. The rabbi rose from his chair, walked over to Kaufman and said:

Kaufman, go up to the Bimah. You are going to be the shaliach tzibbur, the prayer leader, today.”

There was a wave of whispers.

“Kaufman?”
“I can think of a list of more worthy neighbors to lead our prayers.”
“Why Kaufman?”
“Why is the rabbi asking an ignorant grocer?”
“It’s a sin to embarrass someone – especially publicly.”

Kaufman also spoke up.

“Me lead the prayers for the congregation! FEH.”

And with that Feh the entire synagogue broke out in laughter, kvetching, angry shouts, and demands to know what was going on!

The rabbi, embarrassed, at his wits end, and beginning to feel new doubt about his dream lost control of himself and said, “I don’t care if you can’t read a lick of the prayers Kaufman. I order you to go up to the BIMAH.”

Kaufman, instead of obeying, removed his tallit from the his shoulders, placed it on his seat, and without a word, turned and left the synagogue.

The elders gathered about the rabbi. “What will we do now? Surely he won’t return.”

The rabbi raised his hand for silence. “We shall wait half an hour and then we will see.”

Quiet filled the sanctuary.

Several minutes later Kaufman was back. In his hand he carried the scales he used in his grocery store.

Lifting the scales high above his head, he marched straight to the Bimah.
The congregation looked on in amazement.
“what is he doing with those?” people whispered.

Kaufman got to the bimah. Still holding his scales high and in plain sight of the entire village he spoke:

“Lord of the Universe, as you know, I am an ignorant man. I have worked hard all my life. I am impatient. I am harsh. I am unhelpful. But all my life I have been honest. Let these scales be my witness. I have kept them clean and straight. I have never robbed a customer by giving short weight or placing my thumb upon them. Now hear me God. If I have done no wrong, if my scales have been true, if I have not offended your Holy Name and have kept the sacred mitzvot of Your Torah, I plead with You that You take pity on us and cause rain to descend this very minute!”

As soon as the grocer finished his strange prayer there was quiet.
And then a crack of thunder.
Heavy drops of rain could be heard falling on the roof. The town was saved.

Weeks passed and the rabbi continued to wonder at the miracle.
Why Kaufman the grocer?
So what. He had honest scales.
But certainly there were other, more learned, or more prominent members of the village who were just as honest in business and in their personal lives as Kaufman.

Slowly the rabbi received his answer. For one by one, the other merchants of the town came to call on him.

Each of them, in the strictest of confidences, confessed that at some point or another, because of carelessness more than anything else, had realized they were

Their scales were not calibrated
Or they were Overcharging just a bit – nothing substantial

or they had neglected to use their full income when tithing to the school, the orphans’ home, the burial society, and the synagogue.

It was then that the rabbi went to Kaufman and asked for his scales so that they could be placed at the entrance of the synagogue so that everyone would remember that the health of a community can hang in the balance of their everyday dealings with one another.

And of course, when Kaufman heard the request he replied, “Feh.’