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TALES OF THE BAAL SHEM TOV
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Cont'd.
After Rabbi Eliezer was captured and
sold into
slavery, he became the main counselor to the King of
a distant Moslem land. When he finally returned, he
kept his promise to pray at the grave of the young
couple that he had begged for Divine help before
being sold. There he met a man dressed in old
clothes and carrying a walking stick.
The old man with the walking stick
accompanied Reb Eliezer into the synagogue, as it
was
time for the afternoon prayers. Old people were sitting
about, some praying and some studying. But the man
who brought him in only looked about, and suddenly
disappeared.
Reb Eliezer sat down and struck up a conversation
with a few of the people. "Do you know the man that
came in with me?" he asked them. No, was the reply
they did not recognize him. So Reb Eliezer realized
that he alone had been able to recognize Eliyahu
HaNavi and know who he was. But that meant that
Eliyahu had come only to see him - to tell him he
would have a son.
Reb Eliezer looked all about him at the synagogue. It
was a beautiful building, all of wood, set deep into the
ground requiring one to walk down steps to get into
it.
It suddenly reminded Reb Eliezer of
something told in the Talmud. How a great sage went
into the ruins of a synagogue in Jerusalem to say the
afternoon prayers that too must have been sunk into
the ground, like this. And Eliyahu haNavi had come to
watch over the sage, that no harm should come to
him; and afterward they spoke together. Evidently
Eliyahu liked to appear at the doors of synagogues.
A man near him spoke up: "You are a stranger here,
aren't you? Why are you in our town? Who are you?
And where are you going?" Reb Eliezer did not wish
to relate his adventures, how he had been King's
lieutenant in a distant Moslem land. The man kept
asking his questions, until he groaned and said
simply, "I have been through many troubles and
experiences. At the end, a small fortune of money and
a box of precious jewels were taken from me by
bandits."
The man near him wanted to comfort him and raise
his spirits, "Let me tell you a story," he said, "about
the birth of the noted Talmud scholar Rabbi Sh'muel
Edels, the Maharsha." This is what he said:
In the town of Ostra, famed for its great Talmudic
scholars and its high level of Torah study, the time
came when the people wanted to build a new
synagogue. The rabbi of the community undertook the
responsibility to gather the money for it, and he
announced that on the next market day the
cornerstone would be laid for the new synagogue
building.
Placards were put up announcing the event; and on
the market-day, when Jews came from neighboring
towns and villages to sell their wares, a large crowd
gathered at the site of the new synagogue. I waited
eagerly to see who would be given the great honor to
put the cornerstone in place. It was the rabbi who
answered that: Whoever gave the weight of the
cornerstone in gold (gold enough to equal the weight
of the stone) would have the great privilege and honor.
The people gathered there were stunned. They had
no idea that the rabbi would ask for such a huge sum.
Even for the rich among them this was far more than
they could easily give.
For a few moments they stood there buzzing with talk
among themselves. Then they saw a man from a
nearby village striding to the platform where the rabbi
stood. "Here," he said; "Put the stone on one pan of
the balance-scales, and I will put enough gold on the
other party to balance it."
The rabbi was deeply moved at such generosity for
the sake of a mitzvah, a religious good deed. He had
not been certain if anyone would answer his call. "Is
there anything you want?" he asked the
villager, "anything that I may be able to do for you? Ask,
and with Heaven's help I will do it for you at once."
The villager burst into tears. "My wife and I have no
children," he sobbed, "no one to leave, when we die,
to say the mourner's prayer of Kaddish for us!"
"Very well," said the rabbi. "Come and see me in
three days, and I will give you an answer."
The cornerstone was put in place, the rabbi spoke
eloquently and beautifully, and the people went back
to their everyday lives.
Three days later the villager came to the rabbi's
house. "Listen well," said the rabbi. "Originally, you
and your wife were not meant to have children. It was
so decreed in heaven. But your wife will give birth to a
son if she and you accept these three conditions: (l)
You will lose all your wealth; (2) Before the child is
born you will die. (3) "Soon after the child is born, your
wife's life will end." As he heard this, the villager's
face turned white as a sheet. "Rabbi" he cried. "What
kind of conditions are these?"
"I am deeply sorry," said the rabbi, "but this is what
has been revealed to me. There is nothing else I can
tell you."
The man buried his head in his hands. "However
much I want a son," he said at last, "I cannot agree to
the conditions without asking my "wife first." And with
this he returned home.
When his wife heard the three conditions she sat
silent for a full five minutes. Then she spoke though
fully. "Look. We have this flour-mill and we grind the
corn for all the farmers around us; and so we are
wealthy and growing richer. But what good is our life
to us even if we live another hundred years, what
pleasure will we have, and what will we achieve, if we
die without children and leave no one to say Kaddish
for us? I say it is better to have a son."
"Without another word the miller went back to the rabbi
of Ostra to give him his answer. " Now that you have
accepted," said the rabbi, "there is one thing I can tell
you: Your son will be a wonder-child, and he will grow
into an amazing Talmud scholar."
A few weeks later the man's flour-mill collapsed in a
fierce storm-wind. With no way to earn a living, he
soon lost all his money and was reduced to begging
charity. And a few months later he took sick and died.
Left alone in the world, his wife took to going to nearby
fields to pick potatoes and fruit, and in that way she
kept herself alive. But as the time can when she
would soon have to give birth to her son, she decided
it would be best to go to the nearest town. There she
might find the help she needed. But since she was
so poor now, without proper clothes to wear; she
would not go in the daytime, when neighbors might
see her. In the dark of night, she took her few
belongings and set off for the town.
At the edge of the town stood the baker's house, all lit
up because the baker and his wife were busy now
baking their bread and rolls, to have them fresh and
ready for the townspeople early in the morning. Too
tired and weary to go further, the poor woman knocked
on the door and asked if she might come in and rest.
Well, the baker and his wife recognized her at once,
since they had often gotten the flour far their baking
from her husband's mill. They welcomed her "with
great friendship, and invited her to stay. In short, they
took care of her as though they were her own mother
and father, although they had a baby daughter of their
own, a year old, to look after, and both had to work at
the baking.
In time her son was born to her. The baker and his
wife arranged the bris (circumcision), to let the child
enter the Covenant of Abraham and become a
member of the Jewish people. And they named the
child Shmuel Eliezer.
Whenever the poor widow of the miller found it hard to
take care of her child, the baker's wife cheerfully
helped her. But when the baby boy was three months
old she took sick. She knew well enough that she
would not get better. Two of the three conditions had
come true: She and her husband had lost all their
wealth, and her husband had died. Now, she knew, it
was time for the third condition: she had to leave the
world.
One day, as she lay on her sickbed, the baker's wife
said, "Let us make a solemn agreement and shake
hands on it: When your son and my daughter come of
age let you and I agree now that they must marry each
other." The sick woman smiled, and the two shook
hands, wishing each other and their children mazal
tov, and good fortune in life.
The next day the poor woman died; and the good
baker and his wife raised the little boy as though he
were their son. The years flew by. On his thirteenth
birthday the baker and his wife celebrated the boy's
bar-mitzvah. As usual on such occasions, the boy
gave a question and answer on a topic in the Talmud,
to show how learned he was. It was obvious to all the
Talmud scholars there that this boy was
extraordinary. In his grasp of the Talmud he was a
wonder-child indeed (just as the rabbi of Ostra had
foretold). The baker and his wife were filled with pride,
knowing that soon enough the boy's reputation for
Torah learning would spread far and wide.
The next day, however, the baker's wife spoke
earnestly to the boy: "You know, it will not be long now
before you will be a young man; and with your
brilliance in Talmud study, rich men will want to have
you as a son-in-law for their daughters. But I want you
to know that before your mother died, she and I made
a solemn agreement that when you grow up you will
marry Deborah" (her daughter), "and we shook hands
on it."
To be continued.
Freely adapted by Tzvi Meir Cohn (Howard Cohn
Patent Attrorney from a book Legends and Stories of
the Baal Shem Tov by Rabbi Gutman
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Sefer Baal Shem Tov
The Baal Shem Tov's Teachings on the Torah
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And Moses said to Aharon: Draw near to the altar . . .
(Leviticus 9:7)
Rashi comments that Aharon was ashamed and
afraid to draw near to the altar.1 Moses
therefore
said to him, "Why are you ashamed? You were
chosen for this."2
This is a
surprising explanation. Just because he was
chosen doesn't mean that he should not be ashamed.
Rather, I heard from my grandfather [the
Baal Shem Tov] this explanation: [Moses said,] "You
were chosen because you feel fear and shame before
G-d,"3 for "The sacrifices of
G-d are a broken spirit"
(Psalms 51:19).4
This idea has also been mentioned in the
writings of the Arizal.5
Degel Machane Ephraim, Shemini
1Because of his involvement in the
making of the
Golden Calf.
2I.e., to serve G-d in the
Sanctuary.
3That is, when Moses said, "You were
chosen for
this," he meant, "You where chosen because of
this."
4I.e., because Aharon was humble, he
merited
offering sacrifices to G-d.
5The Arizal writes (Likutey Torah on this
verse): "Because you have the qualities of humility and
shame, you were chosen over your fellows to be the
Kohen." R. Tzadok HaKohen writes that it was the very
shame Aharon felt over having made the Golden Calf
that made him worthy of being chosen as Kohen
Gadol; for every fall can lead a person rise in the very
area he stumbled, to the opposite extreme.
Translation and commentary by Rabbi Dr.
Eliezer
Shore.
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THE HEART OF PRAYER
The Baal Shem Tov's Teachings on Prayer
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Section 3.4
The Baal Shem Tov
taught:
Praying before sunrise allows one to
still annul the Harsh Judgments.
Make sure that you always pray before sunrise, both in
the summer and in the winter. That is, you should
recite most of the prayers, until just before keriyas
shema, before sunrise. The difference between
praying before or after sunrise is as great as the east
is from the west. Because then, one can still annul
[the Harsh Judgments], as is alluded to in the
verses: "He has set in them [in the Heavens] a tent for
the sun. . . which is like a bridegroom coming from his
bridal canopy, rejoicing like a strong man rejoicing to
run the course. . . . there is nothing hidden from its
heat" (Psalms 19:5-7). Do not read the word as "heat,"
chamaso, but as "wrath," chemaso. For when the sun
is already out, it is impossible to hide from the Harsh
Judgments that come from the angels of wrath.
Do not take this lightly; it is extremely important. The
Baal Shem Tov was so careful with this that he would
even pray alone, if he did not have a sunrise
minyan.
Tzava'as HaRivash, p.3a 16
Translation
and
Commentary by Rabbi Dr.
Eliezer Shore
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DIVINE LIGHT
The Mystical Light of the Baal Shem Tov
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Section 3.
BEFORE the Baal Shem Tov was born,
there were terrible decrees on the Jews, such as the
decrees of the anti-Semitic Ukranian barbarians,
Chmielnicki and his army in 5408 and 5409. The
situation of the Jews throughout Europe was dire,
both spiritually and economically. The landlords
harassed them, the priests falsely accused them of
crimes they had not committed and not a year passed
in which the Jews did not suffer from these libels,
physically, spiritually and
financially.
The economic situation of the Jews fell considerably,
and the material situation seriously affected their
spiritual state, so much so that they entered a state of
spiritual slumber and unconsciousness.
In Heaven they saw that in order to arouse the Jews
and elevate them, both materially and spiritually, a
uniquely superior soul must descend to the world; the
soul of our teacher the Baal Shem Tov, who is
named, Yisrael, after the nation of Israel. The
tried
and trusted way to revive someone who has fainted is
to call him by his name. So too, the soul of Yisrael
Baal Shem Tov descended to this world and awake
the nation of Israel from their spiritual slumber.
Likuti Sichos Vol. 2 P. 516 Quoting the Maamar of
Rebbe Rashab 5663 P.251
Translation
and Commentary by Rabbi Dr. Eliezer Shore
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KESER SHEM TOV
Anthology of the Teachings of the Baal Shem Tov
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Section 3.
The Baal Shem Tov discusses the
futility of man's
effort to know the unknowable - and how he may find
spiritual growth and satisfaction in the process of
discovery-not in the discovery itself:
The Baal Shem Tov discusses the following phrase in
the Talmud:
"If only they had abandoned Me but kept My Torah. "
The ultimate goal in striving to know G-d is the
understanding that one truly cannot know
G-d. [And man thus remains ignorant of this
understanding]. However, there are two categories of
such "ignorance".
The first category is that of a person who immediately
realizes their limitations. Since they understand that it
is impossible to truly know
(G-d), they abandon any further effort to
contemplate the matter.
The second category is that of a person who also
immediately realizes their limitations. Nevertheless,
they continue their effort to search until they know that
it is truly impossible to know (G-d).
The difference between these two categories can be
explained with the following parable.
Two of the king's subjects want to know the king.
The first person walks through the king's palace
observing the wealth and luxury of the king. He
delights in all he sees, yet he realizes that despite all
that he sees, he doesn't truly know the king - he is
only seeing the king's possession.
We can thus better understand the two categories
mentioned above.
One individual makes an effort to know the King and
does not succeed, while the other does not even
attempt to try, and also doesn't succeed.
So when G-d says, "They abandon Me", it
refers to the "avodah" [spiritual effort] in trying to know
G-d. Nevertheless, says G-d, "If only
they had abandoned Me", knowing that they can not
ultimately know Me. But the "abandoning" only
occurred after they engaged in the process of
searching until "they had kept my Torah" (and had
explored all its depth).
Yerushalmi, Chagigah 1:7 (6b)
Translation and commentary by Rabbi
Yehoshua Starrett.
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