The Midrash relates the following episode:
In the days of the Roman Empire, in the city of Tzipori, a town just west of Tiberias, lived a simple man named Yusta. He served as the local tailor, sitting and sewing all day at his spot along the main street.
During a visit to Rome, this simple man managed to encounter the emperor and found favor in his eyes. As a gesture, the emperor offered to grant Yusta any wish. The tailor asked to be appointed governor over his native city.
When Yusta, now the newly appointed governor of the city, returned to Tzipori, the townspeople began to argue: Was the new governor actually their old tailor? Some said it was Yusta, while others maintained such a thing was impossible.
One wise man suggested a simple test: While parading through the city marketplace, the new governor would pass the place where Yusta once sat and tailored clothing. “If the governor turns his head to gaze at that spot, we will know that he is Yusta,” said the wise man. “If he passes by without looking, we will know that he is not.”
The next time the governor passed down the main street, those watching saw him turn and look at his old workplace, and everyone knew that he was, indeed, Yusta the tailor.
In reading the narrative, a simple question comes to mind: Having lived with Yusta for many years, why were the townspeople suddenly unable to recognize the face of their old neighbor? If they were unsure of his identity, why didn’t they just ask him, or one of his entourage, who he was?
The Midrash, being a part of Torah, is not merely a book of tales; by its name, the Torah-which means “teaching”-defines itself. It tells us what happened in the past only if the story contains a lesson for us now. So what is the episode about Yusta the tailor meant to teach us?
Corruption
I think that the debate among the townspeople concerning the identity of the new governor was not whether he was, in fact, Yusta. Most likely, that was obvious to all who beheld him.
The argument involves the far deeper question of whether the new governor still possessed the fine qualities he’d once had as a simple tailor. Had the humble Yusta retained his integrity upon rising to power, or had he been replaced by a pompous, self-centered politician?
This explains the test suggested by the wise man. We must determine, said he, if while parading through the city as its new boss, Yusta looks back to where he came from, recalling his former life as a tailor. For this is the true test of a leader: Can he recall what was precious to him before he attained a position of authority? Can he still see himself as a simple and vulnerable human being?
Yusta passed the test. Even as governor, he never forgot where he came from. Looking back upon that place where he once sat and sewed, he remembered his humble origins.
Introspection
This is the primary theme of the High Holidays. We reflect on whether success and pressure have robbed us of our humanity. Have we become “self-made” men and women who worship ourselves, or do we still look to the real Creator of man?
This question is asked of us both as individuals and as a people whose history spans 3,700 years. Many of us have risen to positions of power and prestige our grandparents never dreamed of attaining. Like Yusta, we have replaced our humble shops with lucrative and prestigious careers in business, politics, academia, and the arts.
Can we still turn around to see the spot where our grandparents labored, recalling the moral and spiritual power that for thousands of years has sustained and guided the Jewish people? Or perhaps, in our drive to succeed and integrate, we’ve forgotten what it means to be a Jew: to be obsessed with good and horrified by evil.