Famous Births Part I - Ba'al Shem Tov and the Divrei Chaim

The story of the birth of the Ba'al Shem Tov is taken from an earlier post on the subject of hachnasas orchim (hospitality to guests).

Reb Eliezer, father of the Ba'al Shem Tov, was known for the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim. He would go so far as to send out emissaries to the town's crossroads, in order to see if anybody passing through might need a meal or refreshments, or even a place to stay for the night. He was also known for giving out money to travelers for provisions for the road. His actions were so great that his name became known up above. It was decided that he would be put to the ultimate test. The Satan immediately came forward and volunteered to carry out this test. But Eliyahu HaNavi (Elijah the Prophet) said that it would be more proper for he himself to go down to this world. And so it was.

One day on shabbos, Reb Eliezer got a knock on the door. He opened it to find a disheveled and slightly confused-looking man holding a sack over his back with a walking stick in hand. He was clearly being mechalel shabbos (desecrating the Sabbath). But Reb Eliezer promptly invited him in, prepared the third meal of shabbos for him to eat, and did not say one word to put him to shame. After shabbos he lavished him with a melavah malkah (meal that symbolizes taking leave of shabbos), and the man ate his fill. In the morning, Reb Eliezer gave the man some money for his upkeep, and escorted him to the door. Walking over the threshold he turned back to Reb Eliezer, and said, "you should know that I am Eliyahu HaNavi, and I have come down to give you a test. You did not make me feel ashamed, and due to this, you have been found worthy to beget a son who will illuminate the eyes of all of Israel." The blessing was subsequently fulfilled, and Reb Eliezer's wife gave birth to a baby boy within the year. Little did they know just how much light and fire he would bring to Israel and just how far it would spread.


The father of the Divrei Chaim of Sanz, Reb Leibush of Ternigrad, often visited Reb Moshe of Pshevorsk. On one of his visits the daughter of Reb Moshe, who was a mature twelve year-old, passed by the kitchen where the two gaonim were standing. Reb Moshe jumped backwards as she passed, and needed a second to catch his breath. His preeshus (separation from earthly things) was so great that he did not even recognize his own daughter (he, like many tzaddikim, went to great lengths to guard their eyes from temptation, especially from the sight of women, although not recognizing one's daughter is beyond the call). He did not even know her age. The Rebbetzin looked at him incredulously, and asked, "is this not our own daughter?" Answered Reb Moshe: "If we have a daughter that is already that age then we need such and such an amount of money to marry her off." Reb Leibush was standing with a small sack of money in his hands. He had planned on traveling to Danzig for business after he took leave of Reb Moshe, but when he heard Reb Moshe's words, he simply handed over the package of money. Reb Moshe, astonished at this gesture, knew not what to say or how to respond to such generosity, so he bentched Reb Leibush "b'zera shel kodesh," and said, "may you have a son that will illuminate the world," because up until that point he had no boys. The beracha came to fruition, and soon after was born the Divrei Chaim.

Have you ever heard a story of such preeshus as describe above involving Reb Moshe?

This is a bit of a different matter, but it reminds me of the story of a Rebbe who was walking with his gabbai (attendant), when the gabbai jumped back, and did a little dance. The Rebbe asked what the matter was, and the gabbai responded, "I bumped into a poll, but I thought it was a woman!" The Rebbe said, "Fool! When you bump into a woman you're supposed to think that it's a poll."

Ba'al Shem Tov and the Nursing Baby

This week we begin the book of Shemos (Exodus). We learn that Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses) was hidden among the reeds in the swamp by the Nile after a decree had been issued by Pharaoh, saying that all male children should be thrown into the river. Pharaoh's daughter, Basya, finds the boy, and attempts to nurse him. She does not succeed, and neither do any of the other Egyptian woman. G-d said, "should the mouth that is destined to talk with the Shechinah (Divine Presence) drink non-kosher milk? And furthermore, shall an Egyptian woman later boast that she fed the mouth that conversed with the Shechinah?" And so we have the following story.

A distraught woman once came to the Ba'al Shem Tov from a a faraway town, in order to receive a bracha. She had been childless all her years, and wanted nothing more than to raise a fine child together with her husband. The Ba'al Shem Tov preceded to bless her, and within the year she gave birth to an unusually beautiful baby boy. When the child was weaned she made the arduous journey once more, in order to show the Ba'al Shem her beautiful new baby, and to get a bracha for her son. When the Ba'al Shem Tov saw this stunning baby he asked his gabbai (attendant) to take the baby from the mother, and pass it on to him. The Ba'al Shem hugged, kissed and cooed at the baby, and returned him to the gabbai, who, in turn, returned him to his mother. He did not offer a bracha. The woman realized this omission, but did not question the ways of the Ba'al Shem, and so she made her way back to her distant town.

When she returned home the baby died. She rushed to the Ba'al Shem Tov. "You killed my baby!" she screamed. After all, he did not issue a bracha for the child. "Let me tell you a story," said the Ba'al Shem. "Please sit down.

"There was once a king and a queen. They lived contented, happy lives. They had the wealth of the kingdom at their hands, they loved each other very much, and they were loved by the people. The only thing missing from their lives was children. They had no son, specifically, no heir to the royal throne. The king, one day, consulted his foremost adviser, and said they following: 'You offer assistance in matters of state; you offer your wise counsel on the military front. Often, you even advise me in matters of a personal nature. It's no secret that the queen and I are childless. We have no male heir to the throne. What are we going to do?' The king's adviser thought for only a few seconds, and responded, 'the Jews. Only the Jews are able to help you here.' 'If the Jews are able to help me,' replied the king, 'then I shall take away all of their taxes and many tributes.' 'That's not enough,' said the adviser. 'You must make a threat. Tell them that they must pray for you to have a son, day and night, and if they fail in their prayers, then you will wipe them out from your kingdom altogether.'

"And so it was. The Jews were informed of their heavy burden, and they began to pray, day and night. They fasted, recited Tehillim (Psalms), and implored the Almighty to answer their prayers. Their prayers reached the heavens, and one lofty soul volunteered to come down to the earth to be the son of the king and queen.

"Nine months later a baby boy was born. The king, breeding his son for royalty, began to hire the foremost tutors in the kingdom for his beloved son, on subjects ranging from mathematics to etiquette. The boy was a wonder. He mastered every subject he took up in a short period of time, and with great ease. A few months after a new subject was introduced, the respective tutor was dismissed, because the boy had run the subject dry. He longed for something compelling, something profound, and he approached his father with the request, yet again. The king decided that it was time for the boy to take up spiritual matters. He spoke with the senior-most Christian cleric, and assigned him a room in the royal palace. The priest had but one request: 'Every day I meditate alone in a room for one hour. During this time I ascend to the heavens, and I cannot be disturbed. If someone were to see me in this state then I could make no guarantees for his life.' And so the request was granted.

"The boy took up the study of religion with great fervor and dilligence. He learned many hours of the day with the priest but, like any other young boy, he was curious. What exactly did the priest do during his hour of solitude? What exactly did it mean that he ascended to the heavens? And so he made a copy of the keys for the priest's study. He was bursting with anticipation on the next day when he stuck the key in the lock. He turned the handle, opened the door, and he could not believe the sight. The priest was sitting in tallis (a religious shawl) and tefillin, and was learning the Talmud! He looked up at the boy, and almost fainted. He began to stutter, and the only recognizable words coming from his mouth were 'please..please..' The boy looked up at him, and said, 'don't worry. I won't tell anyone. But under one condition: You teach me what you're learning.' He agreed. But the boy did wonder why all of this was a secret. 'Whatever the reason,' said the religious teacher, 'you could bet that it is a good one, and that I will have to keep up the charade for the rest of my life.'

"They studied Judaism, and the boy finally felt that this religious study, the length and breadth of which were infinite, contained the depth and profundity that he had longed for, for years. Eventually, he would tell his religious tutor, 'convert me to the faith of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I want to be a Jew. But my father cannot stand to be apart from me for even a single day.' And so the religious tutor came up with a plan. 'You are to tell your father that since you are being groomed to take over the throne one day, and since you have never left the area surrounding the palace, it is your wish to travel for some time to get to know the governors of the various provinces and the local people, as well. But you will do this in increments. For one month you will leave for a few days a week, and then return to your father, in order to get him used to the idea of you not being at his side. And after a month you will say that you would like to travel a greater distance.'

"And so it was. The boy began to travel, and at the beginning of the second month, he reached a border town with the carriage driver, and told him to go back to the palace, because he would be spending a considerable amount of time in this town. And when all was clear he crossed the border, and looked for the nearest Jews. He spent his time in the beis midrash (house of study), and used the money he had taken along from the palace to support himself. He learned in the beis midrash until the day he died.

"When this soul reached heaven," said the Ba'al Shem Tov, "the prosecuting angels scoured his history in order to find some fault, but they could not come up with a thing. This was a soul who volunteered to leave the pleasures of the world above, and dwell in this world, in order to be born to a non-Jewish king and queen, and then abandon a life of royalty in order to become a Jew. One prosecuting angel, however, did speak up. 'For the first two years of his life he nursed from a non-Jew!' The verdict in heaven was that he be sent back down for two years in a new incarnation to be nursed by a Jewish woman. And this was the boy that you gave birth to," said the Ba'al Shem. "It should not grieve you that the child lived only two years, but rather you should contemplate the fact that for two years you were found worthy of caring for and nursing such a lofty soul."

Hachnasas Orchim

For this week's parsha, parshas vayeira, a couple of stories on the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim; hospitality and opening one's house to others. The parsha starts off by saying that G-d appeared to Avraham (to visit him on the third day after his circumcision), and almost immediately goes on to talk about three visitors that were passing by Avraham's tent. And from this we derive the rule "gadol hachnasas orchim mikabalas pnei ha'shechinah, greater is the mitvah of having guests than welcoming the Divine Presence," because as soon as he saw the potential guests, he took leave of G-d.


There was a businessman traveling on a cold wintery night through the town of Gostynin. Too cold to travel on to the next town, he looked for a house with candles still burning inside. It was late into the night, but there was one house with a flickering of light at the window. He knocked on the door, and was warmly welcomed in by Reb Yechiel Meir. Now, he had no idea who this man was had just taken him in, but was joyed to find hard drink and refreshments on the table taken out immediately for his sake. But after eating and drinking he was still hungry. Reb Yechiel Meir found some uncooked porridge in the cabinet, and a pan of fat lying on the stove. Not knowing much about the finer points of cooking, he threw them together and put the dish into the oven to bake. The visitor wolfed down the entree, and was sated. Reb Yechiel Meir then gave the man his own bed to sleep in, and with wet clothing and galoshes he fell into bed and slept soundly. Reb Yechiel Meir had nowhere to sleep now, so he stayed up for the night. In the morning, he instructed his family not to go into his room, and he himself walked on tiptoe until he left for shacharis (morning prayers). The man later got up, and made his way to shul, as well. Telling some of the people after davening about his inordinately giving host, he discovered that he had slept in none other than the Rebbe's house! He made his way to the Rebbe at the front of the shul and, with quivering lips, manged to say, "please Rebbe, forgive me. I did not know that it was the Rebbe that I had put through so much trouble!" Reb Yechiel Meir responded, "I'm sorry, but I am not able to accept your apology on this." Stupefied, the man begged, this time with a stutter. Reb Yechiel Meir responded to the man's plea by saying, "I cannot accept your apology unless you agree to one condition." Now, highly intimidated, the man took a nice big gulp, and responded, "O..O...K." "You must promise me that any time you pass through Gostynin, you stay at my home at a guest. Because when else do I have the opportunity to perform the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim in such a fashion??"


Reb Eliezer, father of the Ba'al Shem Tov, was known for the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim. He would go so far as to send out emissaries to the town's crossroads, in order to see if anybody passing through might need a meal or refreshments, or even a place to stay for the night. He was also known for giving out money to travelers for provisions for the road. His actions were so great that his name became known up above. It was decided that he would be put to the ultimate test. The Satan immediately came forward and volunteered to carry out this test. But Eliyahu HaNavi (Elijah the Prophet) said that it would be more proper for he himself to go down to this world. And so it was.

One day on shabbos, Reb Eliezer got a knock on the door. He opened it to find a disheveled and slightly confused-looking man holding a sack over his back with a walking stick in hand. He was clearly being mechalel shabbos (desecrating the Sabbath). But Reb Eliezer promptly invited him in, prepared the third meal of shabbos for him to eat, and did not say one word to put him to shame. After shabbos he lavished him with a melavah malkah (meal that symbolizes taking leave of shabbos), and the man ate his fill. In the morning, Reb Eliezer gave the man some money for his upkeep, and escorted him to the door. Walking over the threshold he turned back to Reb Eliezer, and said, "you should know that I am Eliyahu HaNavi, and I have come down to give you a test. You did not make me feel ashamed, and due to this, you have been found worthy to beget a son who will illuminate the eyes of all of Israel." The blessing was subsequently fulfilled, and Reb Eliezer's wife gave birth to a baby boy within the year. Little did they know just how much light and fire he would bring to Israel and just how far it would spread.

Gerrer Rebbe on the Ba'al Shem

The holy Ba'al Shem Tov (1698-1760) used to tell a story. The lion, the king of beasts, was angry with all of the animals of the jungle. The animals, fearing for their lives, got together, and appointed the sly fox to go and appease the angry lion. The fox was reluctant, but finally agreed, and he came up with three hundred parables to relate to the lion. He set out on his journey, but soon into his stroll, he forgot one hundred of the parables. He was in shock. Never had his mind failed him before. He continued his journey, but after another little while he forgot another one hundred of his parables. "This is unlike me!" he thought to himself. He became quite nervous, fearing the lion's impending rage. He mustered up the courage to go, reasoning that he still had another 100 solid parables to tell to the lion. But, yet again, he forgot 100 parables, leaving him with nothing to say to the lion. He feared the lion's wrath, and became paralyzed in his tracks. But all the animals of the jungle had appointed him, and nobody else, to appease the lion. And so he set out, once again, not having any idea of what he was going to say when he finally reached the lion. And the Ba'al Shem Tov relates that when the fox reached the lion an indescribable feeling came over him. He went right up to the lion, and began to pour out his heart. He talked, and wept and, with deep emotion, told the lion everything on his mind and on the minds of all the animals in the jungle. The lion was receptive, and the lion was subsequently appeased.

I recently realized the true meaning of this tale (how could I have missed it earlier?) It's clearly about chassidus vs. the Litvish world, the status quo at the time. Wisdom (being a talmid chocham, very learned, in Torah), is not necessarily the best or only conduit to reach the lion (the King, G-d). Genuine, heartfelt emotion, passion, and pouring out one's soul to the King is another, perhaps superior, way of getting close to the Creator. One need not know hundreds of parables, and one need not be learned and wise to reach the lion, G-d. And this is the essence of the Ba'al Shem Tov's Chassidus.

The Ba'al Shem would often take his disciples out to a nearby field to observe a certain ignorant shepherd. At one point while tending to the flock each day he would get caught in a burst of religious inspiration, drop his stick, close his eyes, look up to the heavens, and cry out, "G-d! I'm just a simple shepherd! I don't know how to learn. I don't know how to write, and I don't even know the aleph-beis (the Hebrew alphabet). But this, this I can offer to you!." And he would begin to do somersaults and flips, all throughout the field. The Ba'al Shem and his disciples would watch from behind a rock, and he would say to them, "observe closely, because this is a holy man."

The following story on the Imrei Emes, Reb Avraham Mordechai Alter (1866-1948), third Gerrer Rebbe, in which he used the above mashal, is simply meant as a matter of interest:



After the death of the Sfas Emes, second Gerrer Rebbe, many of the chassidim supported his son, the 39 year old Reb Avraham Mordechai. Others had gone to Alexander, but eventually there was a major push to make Reb Avraham Mordechai the next Rebbe. He refused, and he refused again. He was an anav (a humble man), and didn't feel worthy of the esteemed position. Finally, the chassidim insisted, and so he got up in front of the crowd, and told them a mashal. He said that the lion, king of the jungle had become very angry with the animals in the jungle, and the sly fox was appointed to appease him. He came up with three hundred parables to appease the king, and so on. But at the point in the story in which the fox forgets his last one hundred parables, the Rebbe said that the fox then decided to turn back. He was simply undeserving and unworthy of this great task. "And so," said Reb Avraham Mordechai, "I am the fox, and you are the animals of the jungle. I am unworthy of being the representative to the king. And so now you will all have to fend for yourselves."

The chassidim were so taken by his humility in the face of honor that they urged him even more now to become their Rebbe. After further cajoling he finally did agree to become Rebbe. But his first takanah (decree) as Rebbe came as a shock and blow to the Gerrer chassidim. Immediately after being crowned Rebbe he changed the time of shacharis (morning prayer), and set it for a significantly earlier time in the morning. Chassidim, in general, had developed the custom of davening (praying) later than the generally established times, and one major reason was for spiritual preparation. This was done in the times of the chassidim harishonim in another era, and the present chassidim had picked up the custom of meditating for an hour or two before prayer to enhance their davening. A large protest broke out in the Gerrer court until the Rebbe was forced to give an explanation. And he explained with a mashal. "There was once a man who loved his wife's cooking. In fact, he loved it so much, that before dinner time every evening he would sit by the table for a lengthy period just to prepare himself. One evening, after sitting at the table for half an hour, the food was placed before him. He looked up at his wife, and barked, "what is this?" She replied simply, "it's your dinner." The man was furious. "I sit and prepare myself for half an hour for your cooking only to be given burnt hash!" "And so it is with our davening," said the Rebbe. "In days of old we had reason for hachana and meditation. But the davening of our days has dropped to a level that no amount of preparation could salvage."

We see the extent of yeridos hadoros (the weakening of the generations) in Poland circa 1905 in the estimation of a gadol of the time. To think of how much further we have slipped since then.

Do you agree with my interpretation of the Ba'al Shem Tov's parable above?

How far do you think we've slipped in the past 100 years since the Gerrer Rebbe's first takanah?