Reprinted with permission from Midstream magazine.
The desire to know the truth is the beginning of wisdom. Among the other types of people who have become main characters in Jewish humor is the schnorrer, the beggar. Theodor Reik [one of Freud’s disciples] contended that the jokes about schnorrers express the hope and conviction that the economic gap between the haves and the have-nots will be erased one day.
But we might even go one step further, says Rabbi Reuven Bulka. Indeed, Jews have often been forced to schnor, that is to beg, for what was legitimately theirs. The schnorrer, therefore, symbolizes the Jew who begs the indulgence of others, so that he might enjoy the basic right to live with decency.
Here is the story of a schnorrer who used to visit the house of the Baron de Rothschild to receive his weekly alms. On one particular visit, he is told that he cannot be supported that week. Visibly upset, he wants to know the reason. He is told that the Baron’s daughter had been married that week and that the wedding had been particularly costly and there were no funds left for charitable purposes. The shnorrer, reacting with a combination of understanding and protest, says: “I certainly don’t mind the Baron marrying his daughter, but not with my money!”
It was not always easy for Jews to earn a living when there were so many discriminatory laws limiting their activities; they were not to own land or to engage in many trades, which were regulated by professional guilds that accepted only Christian members. Jews were able to survive only by putting their ingenuity to work.
As they could only engage in professions, which were not regulated by law, they practiced international commerce and banking (which was forbidden by the Church in the Middle Ages), they went into medicine, astrology, and map-making, and quite a few became experts in these professions. Many, however, managed to earn a living by practicing simple trades. They became tailors and shoemakers, grocers and butchers, and many shopkeepers and merchants.
The next anecdote will reveal to us how students of the Holy Scriptures learn about the commercial trade.
There are two young yeshiva bakhurim (students at a talmudic academy) in a train compartment, in Belgium. They are discussing the amazing abilities of Jewish merchants and diamond dealers in their city of Antwerp.
“To what would you attribute their success?” asks one fellow of the other. “You know what, let’s ask our landsman (compatriot), who is sitting near the window,” says the other.
“Ir zeit a soykher (you are a businessman), aren’t you? Please tell us: to what do you attribute the success of businessmen in this medine (country)?”
“Oh,” he says, “that’s very simple. It is due to the kind of food we eat.”
“Oh yes, and what kind of food do you eat?”
“We eat heads of herrings, and this gives us brains.”
“Interesting,” say the two young travelers.
“By any chance, would you have some heads of herrings in your bag, and would you be willing to sell them to us?” asks one bokher.
“Of course,” says the merchant. “It will be just 100 francs a piece.”
The two students are anxious to try the experiment without any delay, and they start eating. “Do you know,” one of the students says to the businessman, “in Antwerp, you can buy a whole herring for 10 francs, and here, I paid 100 francs, just for one head
“You see, my friend,” answers the businessman, “it’s already working…
The shadkhan, the matchmaker, was a vital element of survival in the old country. He or she was instrumental in bringing together eligible males and females for the purpose of marriage and propagation. In the atmosphere of constant threat to their existence, every marriage was regarded as an investment in the survival of the Jewish people.
We all know the answer of Yente, the Matchmaker:
“The way she sees and the way he looks, it’s a perfect match!” Or, “She is beautiful, intelligent, and from a good family; what else do you want?” “But why me, I have none of these.” “Oh, I should have told you before: she is just a tiny bit pregnant.”
Even religious traditions and practices were not spared from the double-edged sword of Jewish humorists.
A 10 year-old boy tells his father what he learned in Sunday School that day.
“You know the exodus from Egypt, Dad? That was quite a feat on the part of the Hebrews. They were able to cross the Red Sea in amphibious vehicles while combat helicopters and rocket launchers were protecting them from the Egyptian cavalry. That must have been an amazing victory.”
“Tell me, son,” asks the father, “is that what your teacher said?”
“Oh no, Dad; but if I told you what he said, you would never believe it.”
Another anecdote pokes gentle fun at some of our most important beliefs. It recounts a conversation between two Jews who are comparing the respective merits of their jobs. One says to the other:
“I have a good job and I am getting a good salary, but I have no security. The poretz (the owner of the land) may let me go at any time, and I am constantly worried about the possibility of losing my job.”
The other one says, “I have a simple job and it does not pay much, but I would say that it is quite a secure job.”
“Ah,” says the other, “and what do you do for a living?”
“Oh, I work for the shul (synagogue),” answers his interlocutor. “Every morning, at dawn, I have to go up on the roof of the shuland look all around, as far as I can, to see if the messiah is coming. The moment I see him, I will have to inform the rebbe and the president of the congregation immediately. I’ll tell you the truth, my friend, it doesn’t pay much, but there is plenty security!”…
In Latin America, as well as in the rest of the world, they have always picked on the rabbis and the other members of the Jewish clergy. The following anecdote tells you about the tsuris(the painful episodes) in the life of a rabbi.
Everyone knows that there is a shortage of rabbis in Mexico. Two congregations in particular had been unable to find a rabbi, for years. So they decided to insert ads in newspapers, and they soon received letters from two potential candidates, who were immediately invited to Mexico. But unfortunately, one of them died soon after he reached Mexico City from the effects of air pollution. As a result, each of the two congregations claimed the remaining rabbi.
The members of one congregation were willing to follow the advice of King Solomon and cut the rabbi in two; the other agreed to let him live, just as in the biblical story of the two mothers and their child.
What did they do? They consulted the Beit Din [rabbinical court] of Mexico City. The judges heard the case and decided: “The remaining rabbi must go to the first congregation–the one whose members wanted to cut him in two–because that is, indeed, the fate awaiting all rabbis.”
Women have always played an important role in the Jewish community, even when it was not officially recognized. Of course, the situation is much different today, but many are still not willing to acknowledge it. So, women have been campaigning for equal rights.
The mayor of Ra’anana [a town in Israel] was inspecting a public building site, accompanied by his wife, when one of the construction workers called to the mayor’s wife and said, “How are you, Dinah?” and she answered, “Good to see you, David.” And she continued to chat with the worker for a few minutes.
After the mayor had completed his inspection, he asked his wife, “How do you know this man?” “Ah,” she said, “he was my sweetheart in high school. He even proposed to me, many years ago.”
The husband laughed and said, “You should be grateful to me, then, for if I had not come along, you would be the wife of a construction worker, instead of being married to the mayor of the city.”
“Not at all,” said the wife. “If I had married him, he would now be the mayor of this city!”
Israelis & Palestinians
Even the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians has not escaped the scope of Jewish jesters. Some facts are better conveyed in the form of a joke than in a serious lecture on history, as in the following anecdote:
At an emergency meeting of the Security Council of the United Nations, the ambassador of Israel and the chairman of the Palestinian Authority, Yasser Arafat, were scheduled to speak from the podium. The Israeli delegate was called first:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to preface my remarks by telling you an old story of our folklore. When Moses was leading the Children of Israel through the wilderness, he felt extremely tired one late afternoon, and he decided to take a stroll. He walked away from the camp of the Israelites, and, lo and behold, he saw a lovely lake, right in front of him. He quickly took off his clothes, set them in a pile on the shore, and he went for a swim. Refreshed and relaxed, he came back to the shore and looked for his clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. ‘Surely,’ said he, ‘some Palestinian must have stolen my clothes.”
At this point, Yasser Arafat could not stand still anymore and he shouted: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is an abject lie, for everyone knows that there were no Palestinians in those days!
“Thank you, Mr. Arafat,” said the Israeli ambassador. “That is correct, and that is indeed my first point. Now, I can proceed with my remarks.”
This article is the third in a four-part series on the characteristics of Jewish humor. To read the next article in the series, click here.
© 2005 70 Faces Media
Pronounced: yuh-SHEE-vuh or yeh-shee-VAH, Origin: Hebrew, a traditional religious school, where students mainly study Jewish texts.