Erev Nitzavim
September 26, 2008
My Season of Freedom
by Rabbi Gershom Sizomu,
the spiritual leader of the Abayudaya Jews of Uganda
Although there were many factors that pushed me, my path to the rabbinate became clear on the 11th day of April, 1979, corresponding to the 14th of Nissan 5739, just as Idi Amin‘s nine-year regime in Uganda (during which Judaism was outlawed) came to a timely end, and the season of freedom began. It is from this amazing coincidence that I acquired my inspiration and commitment to Judaism, the springboard for my rabbinic future.
In 2002, I shared my dream with Dr. Gary Tobin, the president of the Institute for Jewish and Community Research, to which he replied, “We will help to make it happen.” He and his wife, Diane, arranged for me to meet the deans at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. What followed was a series of interviews, placement exams, and admission to Rabbinic Studies.
Initially, the program was a big challenge. It took a lot of mental energy to listen to lectures conducted in American-accented English. My typing was very slow, so it was very painful for me to complete my class papers in time for deadlines. As time went by, I became overwhelmed by school, work and domestic obligations. I was reinforced by the Biblical incident of the crossing of the Red Sea where God instructs the children of Israel, despite their fear, to move forward.
I made a resolution to always be forward-looking when circumstances dictated that I should give up. I learned to relax and to slow down during moments when things overlapped, realizing that tension only worsened matters. Most important, I sought encouragement and support from those with whom I shared the same dream: my classmates, teachers and friends. What propelled me to the end were my extreme desire and passion for Torah study, my determination to keep trying, and the company of people who surrounded me.
The ancestors of the Abayudaya (which means People of Judah) who lived in Uganda in the late 19th, early 20th centuries were proselytized by Christians. But as they read the Bible carefully, two things happened. One, they saw that because Judaism came first and Christianity was based on it, it seemed to them that the more authentic religion was Judaism. And second, they did not understand why the Church in Uganda would preach laws it was not following.
They distanced themselves from Christianity and began to observe Jewish law as they understood it from the Bible but without the benefit of any teachers. The result was that they practiced an amalgam of Jewish and Christian rituals.
The first Jew they met who was not Ugandan was a man name Yosef. In 1926 Yosef moved into their community at Mbala and taught them about Judaism. This is when the Abayudaya people officially gave up any connection to Christianity and accepted that they would exclusively follow Jewish law.
This is how the people lived until 1992 when a group of Conservative Jewish rabbis traveled to Uganda and converted the entire Abayudaya people.
In 2003, Gershom Sizomu began his studies at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies in Los Angeles and was ordained just last May. He and his wife and three children returned to Uganda this summer where the Abayudaya people live with no electricity or running water.
Already the story has so many miracles: an African people taking on the practice of Judaism and eventually having one of its own ordained as a Conservative rabbi. As we say on Pesah, Daiyeinu, that would be enough. But I want to say a few more words about Gershom and his amazing success at Ziegler.
Before he came to the U.S., Gershom was already royalty to his people. His direct ancestors were the ones who both brought Judaism to the tribe and were the tribal leaders throughout the 20th century. Despite this yikhus, this pedigree, he exhibited no arrogance. I never heard him say a negative word about anybody. He was soft spoken and gentle. His entire focus was on learning and taking care of his family.
He needed a lot of help which he always accepted with humility. Imagine his first visit to a supermarket in the San Fernando Valley. He had never seen anything like it in his life, knew nothing about brand names nor about heksher, the symbols of kashrut we find on our packaged foods. The simplicity of his life in Uganda did not prepare him for the daily complexity of life in the big city.
His family did speak English but knew very little about American culture particularly in California. There were so many times he could have easily given up but he knew that literally his entire community was counting on him to complete his studies. No other rabbi who would serve the Abayudaya people if he did not become a rabbi himself.
Imagine being in that position. Imagine being the only person who could do a particular task for our own Jewish community. Like Gershom, we also would not have time to waste on gossip or other inessentials. He was, as the Blues Brothers say, on a mission from God.
I wonder how many of us would continue to practice Judaism if it were as hard as it has been for the Abayudaya people. We tend to take for granted that we have a synagogue and a Jewish life in Macon, GA. We certainly have to work to maintain our identity especially living in such a Christian city. But even with those obstacles, we don’t work nearly as hard as Gershom had to. And for that I am very grateful.
But I do think it would help us to remember the Abayudaya people and their struggles when we think about what our congregation needs. It would help us keep our priorities clear when asked to volunteer on a committee, bring food to an event or donate money to a special cause.
Let us rejoice with the Abayudaya people who have just installed their first rabbi after more than 100 years. And let us rejoice with our community which has also survived more than 100 years in Macon GA.
May each of us take inspiration from Gershom and keep ourselves focused on what is best for each of us and for our Jewish community.