Twelve Jews. Twelve followed by no zeros. That's the total
Jewish population in the Muslim country they call home, a
country that has very little love for the State of Israel.
The kehilloh is dying. The entire young generation
consists of one young man and one young woman who decided to
get married. But how? The kehilloh has no rov, no
gabbai, not even a minyan. How does a couple
that wants to get married kedas Moshe veYisroel go
about it?
It takes mesirus nefesh, a lot of effort and a bit of
risk. And that is just what this couple did. To protect their
safety we have left out the names and place of residence of
this special couple who epitomize the verse "levilti
nidach mimenu nidach" (Shmuel II 14:14).
A Dying Kehilloh
Contact was forged when the couple asked a third party living
outside of Israel to help them get married. He then contacted
Israel Chief Rabbi Yonah Metzger.
The kallah takes care of the local beis
knesses. Every day she cleans, does maintenance and prays
in it. Apparently she is the last remnant of a large
congregation whose former glory has faded into the past. When
the kallah learned that the mother of one of the local
Jews was sick she prayed every day for her recovery and when
the mother passed away, for 30 days she lit a candle for her
neshomoh. And she was the one who insisted the wedding
be performed kedas Moshe veYisroel, no matter what
difficulties it entailed.
Preparations for the unusual wedding took weeks. Documents to
prove the couple's Jewishness had to be obtained and
submitted. "We received the kesuvos of both the bride
and the groom's parents as well as official certificates from
the population registrar there," recounts Rav Meir Rosental,
the Chief Rabbi's assistant. "The anonymous third liaison
helped the couple send copies of the relevant documents to
the Jerusalem Rabbinate which checked the couple's
Jewishness, and in addition to the documents we received, an
upstanding Jew who used to live in that country and now lives
in Israel confirmed their Jewishness. At the retirement home
where he lives he clearly recalled the two, their families,
and confirmed their identity beyond a doubt."
The inquiry found that the two were both unmarried and there
was no issue of Kohen ugrushoh. Based on the
kesubos the couple are descendants of gedolei
Yisroel. Comparing that exalted past to what takes place
there today is very discouraging.
Where could a couple like this get married? Of course they
could be brought into Israel secretly, married and sent back
home, but this idea scared the two, who were well aware of
what could happen if the information reached their home
country.
Why do such a couple choose to remain in a country so
inhospitable to Jews? The answer to this question is a very
simple, Jewish answer: there is a sick mother involved. She
cannot be left alone. So they took risks — leaving
single and coming back married — to tend to the sick
mother.
Not in Amman
The obvious solution was Jordan, which was accessible to both
Israelis and the engaged couple. "We recruited a few
avreichim," recounts Rabbi Rosental, "and asked them
to travel to Jordan to make a minyan. The group of
avreichim set out in a vehicle belonging to Hatzoloh
of Judea and Samaria.
"The couple reached the hotel in Amman but the Jordanian
authorities would not let Chief Rabbi Metzger into the
country. The avreichim remained in Amman for a whole
day. Because of Chief Rabbi Metzger's diplomatic passport we
had permission to be on the Allenby Bridge. When the
avreichim realized the wedding was not going to take
place in Amman they tried to return via the Allenby Bridge
but were not given permission and had to drive back to the
Beit She'an border crossing, which demonstrates how
complicated the relations are between us and even a neutral
country like Jordan."
It was Israel's Deputy Ambassador to Jordan who thought of
the idea of holding the wedding at the Allenby Crossing and
he even took part in the event.
Indeed the wedding was held at the Allenby Bridge terminal.
The couple never set foot on Israeli soil. There was no need
to arrange a minyan since some 70 people were on hand
at the highly unusual wedding held at the terminal.
The chosson arrived pale and trembling. The fear on
his face spoke volumes about the state of fear the Jews live
in there. He was received with a burst of applause and
enveloped in warmth and a feeling of simchah. The two
were surprised to see what a nice wedding had been arranged
for them. There were tastefully-set tables laden with food.
The company Hatzorfim sent the couple a gift: an attractive
silver goblet they used at the chuppah. The
chuppah itself was brought from Israel along with the
wine and a glass. The couple even received a fine
kesuboh, compliments of a medallion company. The
witnesses were Chief Rabbi Metzger and Rav Rosental.
The chosson was taught about what would take place at
the chuppah and its halachic significance. The
kallah did not arrive in a wedding dress. Too
dangerous. And the couple came without relatives, surrounded
by strangers. But at least the strangers were Jews, and in
fact many of them shed tears. Later there was singing and
dancing. It was a simple affair, but no simple matter.
Everyone on hand was moved.
They even received a wedding present. The head of
coordination at the Allenby terminal, Roni Satrota, presented
the young couple with a book of Tehillim. "My mother
gave me this before she passed away 27 years ago," he
said.
The wedding ended and the time came for the newlyweds to part
from what was to them a very large gathering of Jews and
return to their hostile land. But they were able to stay at
the hotel for a short time, enjoying a bit of respite before
returning home. They have plans to come to Eretz Yisroel
as soon as possible in order to live full Jewish lives
kedas Moshe veYisroel.