Faster or slower?

HE is forgotten.

And why not?

He died in the 1700s.

He left no wife or children.

He left no property.

Wrote no book.

Painted no painting.

And penned no poetry.

Except one line.

Whatever it is that people are remembered by, he lacked.

In fact is, he was unceremoniously put to death.

The truth is, to his family he was a scandal.

Why shouldn’t he be forgotten?

His father was a Polish Count.

A Polish nobleman.

Their son said: Your nobility is not for me.

I seek nobility, yes; but a higher nobility.

It will give me neither property nor power.

I seek the One G-d. Creator of Heaven and Earth.

And so the son of the Count converted to Judaism.

This wasn’t done then.

It was unheard of, in fact.

So rare, so unheard of, that he became known as “the Ger Zedek of Vilna,” the Righteous Convert of Vilna.”

One.

That was it.

A single convert in the entire city.

Perhaps even in the entire country of Lithuania.

One single convert.

No renown, no power, for him.

No possible ulterior motive for his conversion.

BUT no one could know.

He needed to hide.

Otherwise, his family would discover him.

He served the One G-d, Creator of Heaven and Earth, in anonymity and purity.

That’s all he wanted.

Because if the Count discovered his son, he would kill him.

To the Count, to be a Jew was an outrage.

It was beneath human dignity.

It violated the truth of the other testament, the other religion.

It was a scandal, and could not stand!

So, the single convert in Vilna, “Abraham the son of Abraham,” lived and served G-d extremely quietly, avoiding all notice.

Amongst the Jews of Vilna, however, it was known who he was. Once a small child referred to him as the Righteous Convert of Vilna, and the child was overheard.

The Righteous Convert of Vilna was discovered.

It was an innocent mistake, but a lethal one.

Word got back to the Count, who had his son brought to him and gave him a choice: Renounce Judaism or die. If you renounce Judaism, all the glory and wealth and prestige and standing of the counthood will be yours.

To the Righteous Convert of Vilna, the choice was not a choice.

There was no choice.

Of course, he would not renounce the One G-d or His Torah.

Abraham the son of Abraham was condemned to die.

ON his way to the gallows, the convert passed by the window of the legendary sage of Lithuania, the Vilna Gaon.

The convert had a split second.

He was being led to his death.

There was no time for a discussion.

He cried out: “Faster or slower?”

The Vilna Gaon could answer only one word:

Faster. Or:

Slower.

The convert meant: “Should I hasten to the gallows? Should I walk faster in order to fulfill the mitzvah of kiddush Hashem, of giving up my life for the oneness of G-d? It is a mitzvah to perform all of G-d’s commandments with enthusiasm and alacrity. Should I hurry up?”

That is what he meant by: faster?

“Or should I slow down in order to fulfill the mitzvah of va-chai bahem, ‘and you shall live by them’? It is a mitzvah to live and to extend life every possible minute. Should I slow down?”

Faster or slower? The sacred focus and concentrated essence of the convert’s expression bespeaks an astounding presence of mind, a rarified level of holiness.

The Vilna Gaon regarded him as a soul from another sphere, a person on a completely different plane.

Faster or slower — what was the Vilna Gaon’s answer?

It has not come down to us.

Only the question.

And for that question, as well as for his life and his choice, the Righteous Convert of Vilna has not been forgotten.

HIS execution took place on Shavuos, when yizkor — the prayer for the dead — is recited. Thereafter, on every Shavuos in the main shul in Vilna, a separate yizkor was recited for Abraham the son of Abraham.

For he left no family.

No descendant.

No one to recite yizkor for him.

The Evil Ones put an end to the recitation of yizkor in 1941.

The Evil Ones ended the main shul in Vilna, as they ended Vilna altogether.

Its inhabitants.

Its sacred history.

They ended “the Jerusalem of Lithuania.”

But they did not end the memory of the Righteous Convert of Vilna, any more than his father could. On Shavuos his tale is kept alive to this day in Congregation Ahavas Yisrael in Passaic, New Jersey.

Its rabbi, Ron Isaac Eiseman, asks: Are the Evil Ones who put an end to Vilna in 1941 to be allowed to put an end to all that Vilna stood for, including the holy memory of the Righteous Convert?

And so, he is remembered — a separate yizkor is recited for him in Passaic on Shavuos to this very day.

His tale is resummoned.

His question is reasked.

His one line of poetry marveled over.

Faster?

Or, slower?