L'dor V'dor or My premonition at San Jose Mission

The Hebrew phrase "L'dor V'dor" meaning "from generation to generation," is recited every Shabbat in synagogues. This phrase signifies that the Jewish people will continue to uphold their traditions and identity, passing them down from one generation to the next, regardless of life's challenges. This transmission can take place over hundreds of years or even within a single day, but history has shown that it is an undeniable truth. Each of us is experiencing our own personal journey of departure in unique ways and at our own pace. Ultimately, however, the return to our roots is inevitable.

But what does that have to do with the Franciscan Mission San Jose in San Antonio, Texas? - you would ask me...

I debated whether to share my thoughts on the subject because I might be misunderstood. Nonetheless, I will do so. Why am I especially fascinated with the San Antonio Missions and San Jose?

I'm a Jew.

Those five monasteries around San Antonio are Catholic, established by Franciscan monks 300 years ago. 

Why did I decide to write about it?

Personally, according to my sons, I am a person who sees a Jewish connection in everything. Mission San Jose in San Antonio is a very good example of my quest for the essence of the meaning.

I mentioned in my previous post that history has always been my favorite subject. When I found myself in the middle of the vast American Midwest, I was a bit disillusioned because of the lack of local ancient history. The whole country of the USA was younger than the house I grew up in, Riga, Latvia.

As we relocated to San Antonio, Texas, everything changed. We found ourselves in a city that has a history older than the United States itself, and it was truly fascinating!

As we began to explore the history of San Antonio, which dates back to 1730, we learned about the five Franciscan Missions that played a crucial role in the establishment of this unique American city.

Among those Missions, San José stands out as the most significant, featuring a large monastery courtyard and a beautiful church. This church is renowned for its stone-cut facade adorned with Christian imagery, earning it the nickname "The Queen of the Missions."

I remember visiting the place for the very first time.

As I looked at the church facade, I was astounded.

The images that were clearly intended to bring Christian associations instead brought up extremely Jewish connotations in my head!

This is what I have seen at first:

Three bearded men on top under the five pillars holding a rectangular box.

Under the three men, six angles support the image of the crowned woman.

 On the sides, two additional images, a man on one side and a woman with a child on the other.

 One of the three men at the top is holding a child, also and he stands on the block supported by a three-faced angel.

The entire facade is richly decorated with roses and pomegranates. From a distance, the shape of the entire facade reminded me of something, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Listening to the very enthusiastic tour guide, I found what those images were supposed to portray.

Saint Joseph, or San Jose in Spanish, was the central figure at the top. Saint Francis and Saint Dominique were on the sides.

The crowned woman was the Lady of Guadalupe, and the two figures on the sides were the parents of the Virgin Mary, Anna and Joaquin.

As the tour guide was talking, I was looking for an image of Jesus. After all, it should be the central symbol of the Catholic faith.

 To my surprise, it was absent.

That was the moment when I started to see something entirely different on the facade of this remarkable church.

And this was what I have seen:

The three men on top were the three patriarchs of Judaism: Abraham, his son Isaac, and his grandson Jacob.

Five pillars above the men were the five fundamental supports of Judaism: Monoteism, our Torah, the Secret Covenant between Jewish people and G-d, Tikkun Olam or Tzedakah - an obligation to repair the world through good deeds and charity, and finally the observance of our traditions and identity.

The rectangular box on the top was definitely the Jewish Ark of the Covenant. 

I had no doubts!

The rest was very simple to figure out.

Six angels with the crowned queen above, it is a seven-day week, crowned with Shabbat, which is considered the queen of the week, the time when divine presence is brought to the home by the woman of the house, radiating that special light and warmth we call Shekhinah light, promising us a glimpse into the beautiful future.

Shabbat for the Jewish people is a celebration of the family, and it was exactly the family that I saw represented by two statues at the bottom, a man and a woman with a child.

I took a couple of steps back and looked at the church’s facade from a distance. Now I could realize what I couldn’t before. The front of the San Jose church was decorated in the shape of Hamsa, an ancient Jewish amulet protecting us from the evil eye, and symbolizes God’s protective hand leading the Jewish people out of struggle, often representing the five fingers as a reminder to praise God using the five senses or representing the Five Books of the Torah.

And those five senses in Judaism—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch— we are realizing as tools for serving God, connecting to the soul, and engaging in ritual, with 613 mitzvot (commandments) often engaging these sensory experiences. 

And the entire arrangement was decorated by the images of the pomegranate — the biblical fruit that, according to the ancient Jewish belief, contains not more and not less, but exactly 613 seeds, one for each Mitzvot in the Torah!

That was a moment when I was astounded, speechless, and overwhelmed.

There are some moments in life when you can feel the wind of the Shekhinah light on your face. That was one of those moments of divine premonition.

But why? And why in this place?

Why are there Jewish symbols in the middle of the Texas prairie?

And why are there no records of the sculptor’s name, when in 1730, the Catholic church had everything well documented?

It was 1983 when we visited the San Jose Mission for the first time, and I was overwhelmed with questions and emotions.

It was the time before the Internet, and for research we used to go to the library. Imagine that!

Now it would take me a couple of clicks, and information will start popping up. Back then, I spent several days in the library before I found the answers I was looking for.

I learned that Franciscan monks encountered groups of people in the South Texas area who lived as families rather than in tribes. These people were very receptive to various European traditions that resembled early Christianity. I read about one monk in particular who wrote to the King of Spain, advocating for the establishment of monasteries in the area. He believed that the local population could easily be converted to the Christian way of life.

Now we know about the descendants of the Jewish people who were expelled from Spain and how they migrated north to Texas from central Mexico centuries ago.

Back in 1980, that information just started to come to the public's attention.

Stories about Crypto-Jews become popular over time.

I recall an interesting story from the time we lived in San Antonio, Texas. There was a family in our synagogue who were descendants of Spanish jews. They had a family treasure that was passed through generations. It was an old iron key and an old letter claiming the ownership of the house with the address in Toledo, Spain. One day, through the synagogue sisterhood connections, they made an arrangement to visit that address in Spain.

Can you imagine their astonishment - the old rusted key opened the front door of the old house that belonged to their family ancestors in 1400!

At the time, a family from our congregation became a celebrity. Later, many other families from Texas, Mexico, and other places followed. The Spanish government offered those families an honorary citizenship.

 I don't know, however, if anybody returned back to Spain, but perhaps some people did. We like to visit Spain, and every time we make a point to visit the historical Jewish sites. My heart trembles when I imagine the catastrophe of the Alhambra Decree and the atrocities that followed.

More than 100,000 Jewish people were forced to leave, and another 200,000 were forced to convert to Christianity and relocated elsewhere. Regardless of the initial promise in the New World, Jewish people were met with the same hate and mockery as they had been back in Spain. That was why many left Central Mexico and moved north to the area of Matamoros. Some mixed with the native americans over the years and moved farther north to today's Texas territory.

And now, let me return to the story about Mission San Jose.

Why did I see so many Jewish signs and symbols among decorative stonework on the church facade?

I have two simple explanations.

First, Franciscan monks wanted a new church to be more attractive to local families, and built a church building that inadvertently reminded future petitioners of old forgotten traditions and memories of the past.

Second, the name of the stonecutter who created this remarkable artwork is unknown. We don't even know if it was one person or a group of craftsmen. We don't know who commissioned that work. We could only assume that that person was a Crypto-Jew himself and wanted to send a message to future generations.

If that was the case, I got the message, and you who read this story got that as well.

When I stand in front of this church and think about people who were converted to Christianity, I am not bitter. Not at all!

After all, it did happen before with their ancestors, and that time, Franciscan Monks acted according to the free will of the local people. Those, however, just didn't know any better anymore.

As our elders teach, each individual is responsible for transforming their personal environment into a dwelling place for God in this world. This concept emphasizes that every person is the architect of their own destiny rather than a passive recipient. Each of us has a unique mission to illuminate the world through good deeds and acts of kindness.

Our family was one of 19,000 Jewish people from Riga, Latvia, who were circumstantially forced to leave the country due to Soviet hostility by 1980, when the Soviets halted immigration in anticipation of the Moscow Olympic Games.

History operates in mysterious ways, and as we gain understanding today, we find ourselves continually returning to our faith and the knowledge rooted in the traditions of the past. However, this is only true if we choose to pursue it.

As our elders teach, each individual holds the responsibility to transform their personal environment into a dwelling place for God in this world. This concept emphasizes that every person is the architect of their own destiny rather than a passive recipient. Each of us carries a unique mission to illuminate the world through good deeds and acts of kindness.

350000 Jewish people left the Soviet Union before it fell apart.

Another million and a half left after the dismembering of the Soviet monster.

We, the Jewish people from the former USSR territories, came back to our roots in the New World as Crypto-Jews of the new era. Every one of us, knowingly or unknowingly, passed by the beautiful facade of the San Jose mission.

That is why the history of the San Jose Mission in San Antonio, Texas, is so important to me.

• L'dor V'dor - we are saying out loud every Shabbat morning in the synagogue.

• L'dor V'dor - echo from the windows of the building of the old synagogue in Toledo, Spain, that didn't feel the warmth of the Torah for 800 years.

• L'dor V'dor - reading a little boy in the Texas synagogue getting ready for his bar mitzvah.

• L'dor V'dor - I mumble, standing in front of the magnificent facade of the San Jose Mission in San Antonio.

Whenever we are, we will return to the essence of our being.

 Now or ever.

Amen.