Groping in the Light

This morning we read: "Lo seva'aru eish b'chol moshvoseichem b'yom haShabbas. You shall not kindle a fire in any of your dwellings on the Sabbath (Vayikra 35:3)." And so, the following mai'sah of Reb Nachum of Chernobyl.

Reb Nachum was a guest of the father of Reb Moshe of Savran for shabbos. It was the custom of the household to light a long candle before sunset so that if anyone wanted to learn before daybreak he could do so by light. A little after midnight, those in the house were awoken by a noise. They got out of their beds to see Reb Nachum groping as if it were pitch dark. Afraid that he was going to hurt himself, they asked if there was any trouble. He asked why the overnight candle had not been lit. Those around him were astonished, but later found out that the candle had gone out at some point, and had been re-lit by the non-Jewish maid. And since the candle had been lit on shabbos the tzaddik was not able to see its light.

Reb Nachum of Chernobyl and the Mountain Jews

Reb Nachum of Chernobyl, founding Chernobyler Rebbe, was a disciple of the Maggid of Mezritch. Early on, the Maggid told Reb Nachum to become a maggid himself (preacher; someone who goes around rousing people to repentance), and travel to off-the-beaten-path communities to provide inspiration and hope to downtrodden Jews.

During his travels, Reb Nachum happened upon a small community in an even smaller town. As was his custom, he would go to the town square, and announce himself. "I am a traveling salesman. I have needles, in case anyone needs prodding. I have perfumes if anyone needs to be uplifted. And I have soothing balms for the soul." He would then tell the townsfolk to assemble in the shul at a particular time so that he could preach inspirational words. Next to this particular community stood a mountain. The townspeople informed Reb Nachum that there was a small community of Jews up top, just a few minyanim (quorums) worth of Jews, but it was no easy feat getting up the mountain. They were a community of woodcutters and lumberjacks. There was also an elderly affluent man who lived atop the mountain, not because he particularly wanted to live there, but because he had a lung disease, and the fresh mountain air was good for his health.

Reb Nachum resolved to make his way up the fairly steep hill. Atop the mountain he found the local shul, pulled out a sefer (religious book), and waited until the people assembled for mincha (afternoon prayer). Nobody came for mincha, nor did anyone show up for maariv (evening prayer). He went for a walk, and bumped into a Jew. Upon inquiring as to why nobody in the community davened mincha or maariv, he was told, "you know, it's tough for a Jew to make a living. Nobody really has the time to daven daily. And besides, when we do daven, we do so at the old man's house. He has trouble making his way to the shul, so we assemble in his house on particular days of the week." Reb Nachum, frustrated, began to walk around. Word got out to the community that this was Reb Nachum of Chernobyl who was gracing their town. Various people vied for the honor of having Reb Nachum spend the night at their home, and after some debate, a host was chosen.

It was arranged that Reb Nachum would daven with the minyan in the old man's house in the morning. He awoke early, and asked his host to direct him to the mikveh (ritual bath). "The mikveh...well...you know Rebbe" said his host sheepishly. "What's the problem?" asked Reb Nachum. "Well," said his host, now stammering, "we..we don't have a mikveh. You see, at one point we wanted to build a mikveh, so we got craftsmen from the next town to give us an estimate. It came out to 300 gold coins, and we can't afford anything near that price. You know how it is. They would have to dig very deep being that we're on top of a mountain." Reb Nachum was dumbfounded. After shacharis at the old man's house he stood up, and announced that the entire community should meet at the shul at such and such a time. "Everyone," said Reb Nachum. "That includes men, women and children."

When everyone was assembled later that day, Reb Nachum took the podium. A few minutes into his speech the small crowd was aghast. The Rebbe was extolling his own virtues. He delved into each period of his life; how when he was a child his father taught him how to daven, and how he cultivated his avodah (worship) to celestial heights over the years; how he began learning at a very young age, and how people were amazed at his precociousness; how well he excelled in the entire spectrum of Yiddishkeit... Why would the Rebbe talk about himself with haughtiness, they wondered! When he was finished speaking, he said, "and all of the zechus (merit) that I have amassed up until this point, the entire bounty of my reward for all endeavors and successes I have just enumerated; my entire chelek in olam habah (portion in the world to come) I am willing to sell right now to the highest bidder. This means an actual kinyan, a sale, with a written contract. Somebody make me an offer." The old man stood up. "I am willing to buy all that you have acquired up until this point for 100 gold coins." Reb Nachum, like a seasoned salesman, said, "100 gold coins? I don't think so. You're going to have to do a lot better than that." "150...175...200 gold coins." "That's not good enough," said Reb Nachum. "225, 250 cold coins," said the old man. "And that's my final offer." Reb Nachum said that this would just not due. He would not sell his zechusim for under 300 gold coins. The old man stood up, once again. "Rebbe, as you know I am an affluent man. I have my share of wealth. But I don't have 300 gold coins." Reb Nachum stayed firm. "Take it or leave it." The old man stood with his head downcast contemplating just what this acquisition would mean: A life of mediocrity replaced by one of infinite virtue; a free pass on the Day of Judgment due to a lifetime of good deeds. And so he raised his head high. "OK Rebbe, I will pay 300 gold coins." The crowd assembled around the old man to wish him mazel tov, and to share in his new-found joy.

Later in the day, the two wrote up a contract, and counted out the gold coins. Reb Nachum left with the money, and went over to the community leaders. "Here, go call the craftsmen from the next town, and build yourself a mikveh. NO Jewish community should be without a mikveh."

Later, some of the men came up to Reb Nachum, and questioned how his countenance shined with joy at the completion of the sale in the shul. "Rebbe, you lost everything you've worked for up until now. You've lost all of your zechus. And you're still besimcha." And Reb Nachum answered, "you see, up until this point in my life I've always suspected that I've had an ulterior motive when performing a mitzvah. I've never been quite comfortable with myself. But now, for the first time, I know for sure that I did a mitzvah lishmah (for the sake of doing the mitzvah). The community was lacking a mikveh, and I am helping them get one. By giving away my zechus for the sake of the mitzvah there is no way that I could have had an ulterior motive this time. I have given away that which I would have wanted to gain from a mitzvah, namely zechus. And aside from performing this mitzvah, now I get to start over with a clean slate."

The chassidim used to tell that shortly after this incident took place he heard a voice: "Don't worry Nachum. You didn't lose anything." Not that the old man didn't get his share, but rather they both got Reb Nachum's complete share.

Maggidim of Chernobyl and Bar

"Ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihiyu li, as Reuven and Shimon they shall be mine (Bereishis 48:5)."

As Jacob's life comes to an end in this week's parsah, parshas vayechi, he gives the famous birchos Yaakov, "blessings of Jacob," to his children. Before doing so he calls in his two grandsons from Yosef. Yosef has become viceroy over all of Egypt, and while there he gives birth to two sons, Ephraim and Menashe. Before his blessing to the grandsons he states "ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihiyu li." Due to their virtue, Yosef's children, Ephraim and Menashe, now have the status of Jacob's own children, such as Reuven and Shimon.

Reb Mordechai, the Maggid of Chernobyl, was married to the daughter of Reb Aharon of Karlin. She bore him five illustrious sons, all of whom became Rebbes in their own right. She passed away, and left Reb Mordechai a widower. He decided firmly that he would not marry again. As the years passed he began to get offers for shidduchim (matches for marriage), but he held his ground. It was not until he received a letter from his late wife's brother, Reb Asher of Stolin, that he began to consider a new life. Reb Asher goaded him to take as a wife the daughter of Reb Dovid Leikes, Maggid of the Russian town of Bar, who was a prominent chasid of the Ba'al Shem Tov. Reb Mordechai relented, and made the journey to Bar to ask Reb Dovid for his daughter's hand in marriage. He presented the proposal at arrival, and after closing his eyes and meditating over the matter for a couple of minutes, Reb Dovid said, "I'm sorry, but I flatly refuse your proposal." "But surely you could at least give me your reason for refusal," said Reb Mordechai. "If it's a financial concern, while I cannot provide your daughter with an extravagant lifestyle, I could promise that we would be well taken care of." "No, that is not the reason at all," replied Reb Dovid. "Let me explain something to you," he said. "In my meditation I have just seen that my wife is destined to have five children. I have also seen that you are destined to have three more children. And so that means that after having three children with my daughter, you will pass away and leave her a widow. She will then have to look for another suitable shidduch, and have two more children with that husband. So you see, this really is not an auspicious bargain from our point of view." Reb Mordechai asked for three days to think over the matter.

At the end of three days Reb Mordechai came to Reb Dovid, and said the following: "It is all worked out. You see, I have consulted with the Ba'al Shem Tov, of blessed memory, and he quoted the verse from parshas vayechi, 'ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihihu li,' meaning that as you said, I will give your daughter three more children. But when I pass away, two of those three children will have their own two sons who will be at the same level of saintliness as our children. Therefore, just as Ephraim and Menashe were grandsons of Jacob, but were given the same status as the children of Jacob, so too will the virtue and merit of our grandchildren be of the type that they will be moved up to the status of being our own children." Reb Dovid agreed to the shidduch, and it happened as Reb Mordechai had explained: They bore three tzaddikim, Reb Yochanan of Rachmestrivska, Reb Dovid of Tolna, and Reb Itzik'l of Skver. And from them came two grandchildren, Reb Dovid of Zlatopol (son of Reb Yochanan), and Reb Dovid of Skver. And it was through these two that the shidduch was complete, albeit retroactively.

Reb Aharon of Chernobyl Makes Peace

The following story relates to this week's parsha, parshas Ki Seitzei, concerning the returning of lost items. Reb Aharon Chernobyler was one of the eight sons of the Maggid of Chernobyl, Reb Mordechai, who was the son of Reb Menachem Nachum Twersky, the Meor Einayim. Reb Mordechai's eight sons all became Rebbes in their own right. Skver, Tolna, Hornsteipel and Rachmestrivka are a few of the dynasties that emerged from the Maggid's sons. The subject of our story is the son who continued the Chernobyler dynasty, Reb Aharon Twersky.

A man was traveling through Berditchev, and stopped into a shtiebel to inquire whether the members of that particular shtiebel were Chernobyler chassidim. When they replied in the affirmative he took out some money, and asked them to plan a festive meal for the evening. At the meal, he related to the chassidim that he had just come from Chernobyl for a visit with their tzaddik, Reb Aharon. "I will now tell you a story that will demonstrate just who your Rebbe is," said the stranger.

"A number of years ago I was traveling through Berditchev. On the road I saw a man drop his wallet in the distance. I walked up to the wallet, and found a fat sum inside; so fat, that I had to adjust my eyes at the sight, because I had never seen such a sum of money before at one time and in one place. I inspected the wallet further, thereby hesitating from doing the right thing. But then I remembered that the parshas hashavua (weekly Torah portion) was ki seitzei. 'And does it not say,' I thought to myself, 'hasheiv toshiv le'achicha (that you should surely return it to your brother - a lost item; Devarim/Deutoronomy 12:1). And it doesn't merely say that you shall return, but rather uses the double lashon (expression), hasheiv toshiv, you shall SURELY return.' So I began to run after the poor man, but once he entered the market I could no longer keep my eye on him. I tried for half an hour to pick him out, but to no avail. This man was a businessman, as I later found out. He made trips to Berditchev laden with all sorts of local foods and delicacies from his township, and would sell them at profit, return the money and the profit to those who sent him, and then be given a commission for every product he sold. When he returned home from this trip his creditors were infuriated, and he was no longer allowed to do business. He was trusted no longer. He became ill, and died a few months. His wife became a wretched widow, and she had no money to give the children an education. Meanwhile, I invested my new-found money wisely and, in time, G-d made me a wealthy man.

"A few years later I had a dream. The businessman appeared, and asked, 'why did you kill me? And furthermore, you made my wife a widow, and my children are now illiterate. I summon you to a tribunal in the world of truth.' When I awoke I was shaking until my wife gave me some warm milk and calmed me down. Pondering the dream in bed later that night I thought 'does not Zecharia HaNavi (Zacharia the Prophet) say that dreams speak falsehood? And don't chazal (our Sages) say that the content of dreams are merely the product of what a man ponders in his heart by day?' And so I went back to sleep.

"The next night the businessman appeared to me again. 'Why did you kill me?' he asked. 'My wife is a widow and my children don't know how to read or write. I summon you to a lawsuit in the world of truth.' The dream occurred on a third night, by which time I finally spoke back. I told the businessman that I would have to think about it. The next night I actually did agree, but told him that the lawsuit could not take place in the world of truth. Because what good would it do him if my wife became a widow, as well? He agreed that I would get to choose the time and the place.

"The next morning I set out straight for Reb Aharon of Karlin. He told me that the case was beyond his capabilities, and he instructed me to travel immediately to Reb Aharon of Chernobyl. I made my way. After telling over the course of events to Reb Aharon, he agreed to hold the case at his court. An appointment was made up for the next day, and he instructed me to pass the information over to the businessman when he appeared to me that night in a dream. The businessman subsequently agreed.

"As I sat in front of the tzaddik, his clairvoyance was apparent in his face. I didn't see the businessman; I didn't hear the businessman. But what was transpiring was very clear. Reb Aharon was, in fact, in communication with the soul from the world above. He shook his head, up and down, up and down. He then said to me, 'this man has many well-founded claims against you. What do you have to say for yourself?' I stumbled over my words. 'I wanted to return the wallet. OK, I guess I hesitated for a moment or two, but I...I.. did finally go after him...' Reb Aharon continued. 'Does it not say in the Torah hasheiv toshiv le'achicha? And does the Torah not speak the double lashon, you shall SURELY return making it an emphatic statement, whereby you should not have stood there first counting the money?' Reb Aharon peered into my eyes, and finally asked, 'if I hand down a verdict right now, will you abide by it?' I shook my head in agreement. He then asked the businessman, and by the manner in which Reb Aharon shook his head it was apparent that the businessman would be agreeable to the verdict, as well. And so Reb Aharon instructed me, 'you are to go home, and take an honest stocktaking of all your money and property down to the last shoestring. You may keep half of it for yourself. You are to go to this man's township, and personally deliver half of your money to his wife. While you are there you are to hire competent tutors for the children. With your half of the money you will give a chunk of it - and exactly how much is to be determined by you - to tzedakah. If you follow my instructions then the businessman will be at piece with you, and he will no longer haunt you in your dreams.'"

"And so," said the man. "I have just come from the tzaddik in Chernobyl to inform him that I have followed his instructions, step by step, and that myself and the businessman are finally at peace." He gazed at the chassidim sitting around him in the shtiebel, and said, "and since I was traveling home by way of Berditchev, I thought I would stop in and throw a thanksgiving meal in honor of your tzaddik, and relate this story to you so that you may know the full greatness of your Rebbe."