Rabbi travels to Memphis to repair sacred Torah scrolls
The rabbi showed us the specially prepared kosher ink he uses to repair damaged Torah scrolls.
It was in a travel-size bottle of Pantene shampoo.
"Airport security never looks inside this," Rabbi Levi Selwyn
Airport security doesn't always overlook other objects the bearded and bespectacled rabbi carries in a clear plastic bag as he travels about the country.
Fortunately, the other items he uses, an X-Acto knife, sewing needles, Elmer's glue and eraser, are more easily replaced.
Selwyn is a sofer -- a Jewish scribe skilled and trained with the sacred task of writing and repairing Torah scrolls.
He came to Memphis last week to examine the condition of Beth Sholom's four scrolls. All needed work.
"If Torahs are not kept in good condition, if the humidity is bad, if people don’t roll them tightly or use them regularly, they can get damaged," Rabbi Ilan Glazer
"Also, the ink can fade, resulting in cracked, missing or broken letters."
A Torah scroll isn't printed on a computer or manufactured by a machine.
It is precisely and painstakingly handwritten in Assyrian Script by a scribe who must follow numerous laws containing hundreds of details.
A Torah scroll isn't typed or written with pen on paper.
It is written with a quill cut from a goose or turkey feather, dipped in kosher ink on parchment made from the hide of a kosher animal, usually a cow or goat.
"Some use deer skin, but that's harder to repair," said Selwyn, who works for Sofer on Site, an international company that evaluates, appraises, writes and repairs Torah scrolls.
It's holy work.
In Jewish tradition, the Torah is more than just the first five books of the Bible.
It's a record of the covenant between God and the Jewish people that changed the course of human history.
The Torah is the wisdom of God, the presence of God, the blueprint for creation.
The letters of the Torah are the DNA of creation.
Any sort of deterioration or damage to any of the Torah's 304,805 letters or 62 parchment pages can render it non-kosher, or unacceptable according to Jewish law.
"The letters of the Hebrew alphabet have been around since before the creation of the world," Rabbi Lawrence Kushner wrote in "The Book of Letters."
"They are more than just the signs for sounds they are themselves holy. They are vessels carrying within the light of the Boundless One."
When a scroll is beyond repair, it is buried in a coffin in a Jewish cemetery.
Seven years ago, Beth Sholom buried three Torah scrolls that never recovered from being stolen and thrown into the Wolf River in 1980.
Selwyn examined all four of the synagogue's current scrolls Tuesday morning, and had enough time that afternoon to repair one of them and declare it kosher again. He plans to return.
"Your four Torah scrolls are in decent shape. You are doing something right," Selwyn told those who gathered Tuesday evening to listen and learn.
The sofer opened two scrolls on folding tables in the synagogue's chapel and pointed out some letters that were faded or cracked.
He explained how he cuts the white turkey quills to fit his hand and style as well as the age and type of parchment.
"It took me a year to learn how to cut them just right," he said. "It was a character-building process."
He held up the Pantene bottle of kosher ink and explained how he buys it from families in Israel who have been cooking it with special recipes for generations.
"It takes about a year or more just to produce a Torah scroll," he said, "so you want the ink to stay black for a long, long time."