“I have one of these in my palace,” said the King, as we walked through the Skirball Cultural Center, pointing to an ancient artifact. This was certainly no ordinary day at the office!
I recently began working at Jewish Federation Los Angeles as the Vice President of Community Engagement for the Board of Rabbis, which is a program that brings together rabbis across the denominational spectrum of Jewish life. Last week, I received an e-mail from a local doctor that Nigerian Hebrew King Eze Chukwuemeka Eri will be visiting the L.A. area and would like to meet Jewish leaders and visit Jewish sites. So, I invited the Board of Rabbis Executive Committee to join me and the King for lunch at the Skirball.
At the entrance of the Skirball, I waited nervously, unsure of what to expect. Was this guy for real? Was this a scam of some sort? Would he even come?
When the King arrived, he sure stood out from the crowd. He was dressed in a long white robe covered with gold embroidery designs of Jewish significance — shofars, lions, and crowns. Around his neck, he wore maroon necklaces. His large red yarmulke featured a gold crown and a Star of David. He carried himself with an air of dignity and authority that was unmistakably majestic.
When we sat down for lunch, the King’s attaché introduced him as King Eze Chukwuemeka Eri, the King of the Igbo people of Nigeria, which is comprised of people of many faiths, including Messianics, Christians, Muslims, and Jews. The King explained that in Genesis, Gad was the 7th son of Jacob [Genesis 35:26], and Eri was the 5th son of Gad [Gen. 46:16]. He asserted his people were the descendants of Eri, who, after the Exodus and traveling through the desert for forty years, did not enter into Israel along with the rest of the Tribes. He advised that his people are one of the lost tribes of Jacob. He described the Jewish practices that are kept by the Igbo community — such as circumcising male babies on the eighth day, not eating pork or shellfish, praying, etc.
The purpose of his trip to Los Angeles was to meet fellow Jews as sisters and brothers and to say that “we are one” people. He was not facing any crisis in the community; he did not need money or help. He only wanted to get to know the local Jewish community and reflect together on our connection of shared history and future.
Rabbi Uri Herscher, the founder of the Skirball Cultural Center, greeted the King and noted that Abraham’s first act as a Jew was to welcome strangers into his tent. “It is in that spirit of welcome that the Skirball was founded,” he said. “And in that same spirit, we welcome you here today.”
During our meeting, my colleagues, Rabbi Joshua Hoffman of Valley Beth Shalom and Rabbi Jon Hanish of Kol Tikvah, asked the King thoughtful questions, such as:
What is your typical day like as a king in your community?
The King said that he sits all day and people come to him with their familial and business problems, and he judges their situations. Just like King Solomon.
How did you become king? How will the next king be chosen?
He explained that when his mother was pregnant, the King at the time had a prophecy that her unborn child (Eze Eri) would be the next king. Shortly after he was born, both his parents died. When King Ere came of age, he resisted assuming the throne. Instead he tried to go into business, but all his endeavors failed. He realized that resisting his destiny was futile and accepted the kingship.
King Eri explained that the next king will be chosen from his family and would not necessarily be his son. He would someday have a prophecy of who the next king would be or, if not, the community would wait for G-d to make known the next king.
Rabbi Hoffman noted that the story of the tribe of Gad choosing not to enter the land of Israel is actually in this week’s Torah portion. Gad is only mentioned a few times in the Torah — when he is born and when he has children — but the main story of the tribe of Gad appears in this week’s Torah portion.
The King responded that this meeting was clearly meant to be and that G-d had certainly chosen this moment to bring us together.
There’s a prayer that traditionally is recited when one sees a king. Baruch Ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam Shechalak michvodo l’basar vadam: Blessed Are You, God, Ruler of the Universe who gave a portion of G-d’s honor to flesh and blood. I had never before had the occasion to say this prayer, but now I understand what it means. The King certainly had a certain charisma — a god-like glory — in the way he carried himself. Everyone we met throughout the day responded to that quality.
I took the King through the Skirball’s Noah’s Arc exhibit, which he loved. When he saw the story-time performance for the children in the outdoor amphitheater, the King asked if he could speak when the performance was over. The staff graciously agreed. He introduced himself to the group and offered a blessing to the children. As we walked back through the museum, children followed him, excited to see a king.
As I took him through the exhibit on Jewish history, the King enjoyed the synagogue and the artifacts. As we looked through the exhibit on the countries from which Jews have come — Spain, Morocco, India, Eastern Europe, etc. — he searched for Nigeria. His message was clear. The lost tribe no longer wants to be lost.
The King then asked to see the American Jewish University (AJU). As we walked to our cars, the moment felt surreal. He asked that I come to Nigeria in November for their annual celebration commemorating the time when the tribe settled in that area in biblical times. I promised to seriously consider it.
When we arrived at AJU, I introduced the King to Rabbi Patricia Fenton, who gave us a tour of the library. “Today, I am meeting my sister rabbis,” he exclaimed.
Jackie Benefraim, the Special Collections Librarian, then provided the King a tour of AJU’s rare book room and collection of Bibles from throughout the world — including Africa. The King searched for a Bible in the language of his people — looking for his place on the shelf of Jewish history.
Then we talked with Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, the dean of the Ziegler Rabbinical School. Rabbi Artson mentioned Rabbi Gershom Sizomu, who both Rabbi Artson and I had the joy of teaching when he came from Uganda to study to be a rabbi. Rabbi Sizomu has since returned home and now serves in the Ugandan Parliament.
Artson said, “I tell my students that the future of the Jewish people is in Africa.”
When I returned home, I opened this week’s Torah portion and read the story of the tribe of Gad and reflected on this extraordinary experience.
It’s not every day you meet a king who is your brother.
For more information on the Board of Rabbis, please contact Rabbi Ilana Grinblat at IGrinblat@JewishLA.org.
