Do tzaddikim make mistakes?

I read this in the weekly e-mail that I receive from the Avner Institute and was amazed at how the Rebbe was able to explain very succinctly and clearly the concepts of tzaddikim not erring but doing teshuva and in general, if "these and these are words of Living G-d", how can one path be more appropriate than another:

Many years ago, a group of students visited the Rebbe. When told that the spirit of G-d spoke from the Rebbe’s throat, one of them exclaimed, “Does that mean the Rebbe never makes a mistake?” 

When they entered the Rebbe’s room, one of them asked the Rebbe pointblank, “If the Rebbe never makes a mistake, why does he have an eraser on his pencil?” 

The Rebbe quietly answered, “A Rebbe does not err, but today he is greater than yesterday and today he adds to what was written yesterday. In other words, it’s not in order to erase a mistake, but to erase what was correct yesterday. Today he is of a different, higher stature.”

(source)

To us, this is not only a lesson in appreciation of who tzaddikim are and what their avoida is, but also in our own personal lives. We are not tzaddikim and will make mistakes. But that's not the only reason to have "erasers on our pencils". Even if something we created yesterday was good, today we can make it better.

We don’t need no education, part 2

[a re-post, brought about by this post]

(Part 1 was a post on giving birth and has nothing to do with science.)

One can hear from many people that learning science is bad for your soul. I agree. Having a sample size of 1, I can confirm: it is.

Then there is an argument that a Jew needs to know enough to survive in this world. A Jew needs to get to work in Lexington, while he lives in Brookline; so, he needs a car (ever tried mass transport in Boston area?). So, he needs to know how to drive a car. Doesn’t mean he has to be a mechanic or watch TopGear on Youtube, right?

But here comes the question: how much education is enough?

Let me give you an example. Most frum families have little kids. Most frum families at one point or another come to a fork in their lives where they have to make a decision: to own a microwave or not. There are two ways a modern Jew can answer this question: 1) write to Igros, 2) see what the secular world has to say on microwaves.

At this point, a frum Jew comes across this study by Reynolds et al. (2006). You can read the study on the web-site, but since a picture is worth a thousand words, I’ll just post the picture:



So, based on this picture, what does a person with no scientific education above 5th grade level conclude? Microwaves, like organic chemistry or theory of evolution, are the work of the devil. Indeed.

Now, I could tell you my thoughts, but since I work in science industry, and my older sister works in microwave industry, some could think I am biased. So, I will quote some statements from this here website. Let’s see:

I took two people, fed one an egg breakfast every day, the other toast and jam.
Guess what, the toast and jam guy died. I guess toast and jam kills people.
Sample size is everything...

By "double blind", you mean both the experimenter AND the plants need to be unaware of what is being administered? [OK, this comment is just for fun.]

Microwaves heat by exciting water molecules (or other molecules). Although things can be heated unevenly and complex molecules could (possibly) break down if they were heated enough, WATER does not change with a microwave. If you microwave distilled water, and cool it down again, it is STILL distilled water. Any "scientific" experiment which shows otherwise has an error and in this case there are many possible sources.

A plastic container introduces hydrocarbon residue in a microwave which could affect growth. One plant is not nearly enough. Try 50 of each. Then do it again.

1947 called, they want their poor understanding of technology back.

You know, "Think about it" isn't really a good substitute for actual evidence. My stove is black, the color of death; think about it!

Hooray little girl who will learn about control as she gets older!

OK, I am having way too much fun, so I will stop. The point, of course, is very simple. If you flip a penny and it lands on heads, then flip a quarter and it lands on tails, it’s not a reason yet to write to the Scientific American about the correlation of the size of the coin and the side of landing. You need to repeat your experiment, oh, I don’t know, maybe one hundred times.

But my point is not about the science. Or microwaves. Well, a little about the microwaves. My point is: we live in this world. Here is an example of a question that Chanie and her husband Berl might ask themselves: should we feed little Mendel and Mushkie food heated up in the microwaves? How should they get the answer?

Personally, I would just write to the Igros.

* * *

Update. From the study’s Discussion section:

On top of that she was wanting the microwaved ones to do poorly, and although most scientists would dismiss the idea, it is possible that her thoughts toward each plant had an effect as well.

I would not dismiss it. Of course, cynics would say that it’s possible that the little girl didn’t water the plants equally (either consciously, because she is a cheater, or unconsciously). But I think this proves that when you think bad thoughts about your neighbor, and his beard doesn’t grow as fast as your friend’s (or his wife’s sheitel becomes all frizzled), you are to blame.

Ober der Rebbe zogt!

[A re-post]

There is a story I heard from the shliach of Lexington, MA, Rabbi Bukiet. I am not too clear on the details, so if someone knows them, let me know.

There was one Shabbos when a chossid of the Frierdiker Rebbe and the Rebbe (who was “just” FR’s son-in-law at the time) found themselves together in a shull in France or in Germany. They were the only Lubavitchers in the shull. After everyone finished davening and proceeded to kiddush, the chossid and the Rebbe remained davening. Then the chossid finished and went to make the kiddush for himself, leaving the Rebbe standing alone, his face covered with a talles.

After a while, the Rebbe finished and joined the table. He made the kiddush for himself and sat opposite the chossid. Now, this chossid was an alter chossid of the Frierdiker Rebbe who was in France (or Germany) fund-raising. The Rebbe was dressed meticulously, as it says in Russian, “from a needle”. I am not talking about meticulously for a Russian (that doesn’t take much) — meticulously for a French (or a German). Looking at the chossid, it was not clear whether he put his pants that day right way or backwards, where they belonged or on his head. The typical chassidish shleperdic look, in other words.

The Rebbe looked for a long time at the chossid and then proceeded to give a long vort on the parsha, drawing from mystical sources and going higher and higher in his explanations. Now, the chossid was a simple guy, a simple oived; he was there to collect money, and he was happy to be at the kiddush table on Shabbos, and also happy to listen to the son-in-law of the Rebbe, even if he didn’t understand a word.

Suddenly the Rebbe changed the subject. He said: in Pirkey Avos, second chapter it says:

רבי אומר:
איזוהי דרך ישרה שיבור לו האדם
כל שהיא תפארת לעושיה ותפארת לו מן האדם

(Rebbi Yehudah HaNassi said: Which is the proper course that a man should choose for himself? That which is an honor to him and elicits honor from his fellow men.)

Now, said the Rebbe, the language of this Mishna is unclear. It starts with “Rebbi oimer”, implying that there is a disagreement between Rebbi Yehudah HaNassi and the majority of the Sages. It is as if the rest of the Sages are saying: what does it matter to “elicit honor from his fellow men”?

A lot of people, continued the Rebbe, think the same way nowadays. We have our path. We have our Yiddishkeit. If others are interested, let them come and observe. Let them learn what they can. But we shall not adapt to them, will not make our ways “understandable” and acceptable to them. And it seems that this approach makes sense. Why should we change who we are for them?

Ober der Rebbe zogt! (“But the Rebbe says...!”)

These are not the times, concluded the Rebbe, to have the philosophy of “this is our way… let whoever is interested come, but if not, not…”. We have to make Yiddishkeit presentable and understandable for the rest of the world. On all levels.

In my humble opinion, this could mean many things. It could mean bringing down the ideas of Yiddishkeit from deepest to simplest to people far from Judaism. It could mean making Judaism presentable and desirable. It could mean bringing yourself to the level of someone you are trying to influence and getting interested in something which otherwise would never interest you. Not pretending to be interested, but really being interested.

Sometimes it also means simply behaving like a mentch, with basic civility. “Which is the proper course that a man should choose for himself? That which is an honor to him and elicits honor from his fellow men.”

Mesirus nefesh as an everyday mode of life

From the letter of the Rebbe, distributed by Avner Institute:

[I]t is surely unnecessary to emphasize to a person of your background [a sociologist] that if anyone wishes to attain any worthwhile objective, the road is not an easy one, and one must be prepared to make certain sacrifices. As a matter of fact, the more ambitious and worthy the objective, the greater must be the effort and sacrifice, which in themselves are criteria as to how important the objective is.

Furthermore, since you write that you have a doctorate in sociology, you surely have had occasion to observe various groups of people and individuals, and know that a person does not value highly things which he obtains easily and without sacrifice; and that it is only through facing up to a challenge and overcoming difficulties that the best qualities and capacities of a person are brought to the fore. To be sure, a person may experience a sense of satisfaction at obtaining something very easily, but this feeling cannot be lasting, for real satisfaction comes only from hard-earned accomplishments, particularly when the challenge comes not from outside, but from a personal inner impulse, etc.

Looking back into Jewish history, you have surely noted that the Jewish people became worthy of receiving the Torah only after going through the crucible of Egyptian bondage, after they had proved themselves able to retain their identity and not be assimilated in a culture which in those days was regarded as the highest and most advanced. And so it is in the personal experience of an individual; one can attain a life of Torah not by giving of himself on a particular day or days of the year such as Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur, when a Jew readily makes sacrifices to live as a Jew, but by making the necessary sacrifices every day of the year.

This is also the meaning of the text of our daily prayer, referring to the Torah and the mitzvoth: “For they are our life and the length of our days.” A person must live continually, and cannot interrupt his living, deciding to live on certain days of the year and not on others. So it is in the case of Yiddishkeit. A Jew cannot decide to be alive on Shabbat and Yom Tov, and take a leave of absence during other days.

Common sense is most uncommon...

... and eidelkeit is even more so.

I've heard recently that the Frierdiker Rebbe wrote in the description of his grandmother, Rebbetzin Rivka, the wife of Rebbe Maharash, that she had six children, and nobody in the home ever raised a voice. The parents never raised their voices at the children, the children never raised their voiced at their parents, and the children never raised their voices at each other. [Saying that the parents never raised their voices at each other is unnecessary.] Why? Because they were afraid? Because they were refined people.

This is what is fascinating about this parsha. Parshas Tazria talks about the concept of ritual impurity. It is a very eidel subject. To understand this subject, a person must be above viewing the world and Yiddishkeit in purely physical terms. And “physical” doesn't mean just physical pleasures or physical phenomena. “Physical” also means interpreting something spiritual as a metaphor only, without seeing the ruchnius in the concept — the literal, “mamosh”, ruchnius.

To appreciate these concepts, a person needs to be refined. And one thing about a person who is not refined is: he doesn’t know he is not refined. You tell such a person that listening to a certain kind of music, reading certain kind of literature, consuming certain food or drink makes him less refined, and he says: “Why? Where? I don’t see it.” Of course he doesn’t see it. A person who is used to eating at McDonalds doesn’t appreciate the difference between fast food and fine food anymore.

Rabbi Paltiel says: an eidel person speaks softly. Someone who speaks loudly and makes grub jokes doesn’t understand what is wrong with him. He doesn’t understand why it makes the other person uncomfortable. He says: “You’re afraid of your own shadow.” The other person is not afraid; he just finds grubkeit distasteful.

This is the difference between tikkun ha’middos through derech of Chassidus and through other means. By learning Chassidus, through exposure to G-dliness, the person becomes more refined himself and gains a deeper insight into eidelkeit, on all levels. To such a person saying that one should be sensitive to another human being is not necessary. Such a person doesn’t need to force himself to stop over-indulging in physical pleasures or to stay away from a bad company: he is naturally repulsed by such things.

I find this story, which I received today through e-mail, fascinating:

The chossid Reb Peretz Chein would often use the following משל at farbrengens: The chefs in the Czar's royal kitchen were busy preparing a lavish meal of stuffed calf for the visiting Kaiser William of Germany, the Czar's relative. Their efforts were very successful, and the Kaiser highly praised the dish, asking for the recipe so that his cooks would be able to serve him this extraordinary delicacy. The Czar ordered the chief chef to write a detailed list of ingredients and instructions, and Kaiser William left Russia for Germany looking forward to having such a delightful meal again. As soon as he arrived home, the Kaiser handed the recipe to his chef, asking him to prepare it for dinner. When the kitchen doors opened and the carefully prepared dish was served to the eagerly waiting Kaiser, he cried out, "What an unpleasant odor is coming from the food!" and the platter was quickly removed from the table.

Quite disappointed, Kaiser William wrote to the Czar demanding to know why his chefs could not produce the same delicacy, although they had carefully followed the recipe. The Czar asked his chef for a possible explanation, and after thinking for a moment, the chef burst out laughing: "It's quite simple! I hadn't included in my instructions that the intestines be burned inside out and washed thoroughly before being spiced and stuffed. It seemed unnecessary to mention something so obvious, but apparently it wasn't so obvious to the German chefs."

Of course, it is possible for a person to learn Chassidus for 25 years or more and still remain unrefined. Regarding this, the e-mail says:

The Frierdiker Rebbe said: Chassidus must make one into a chossid with chassidishe middos; otherwise, it can be called "חכמה" but not "חסידות". The path of chassidus is a broad and paved path; it is the fault of those young chassidim who learn chassidus in self made ways, that the clear path of chassidus is blocked. This is the result of learning without עבודה. [...]

Reb Lazer, one of the Alter Rebbe's chassidim, once stopped a yungerman who was walking down the street holding his tallis bag. "What are you thinking about now?" he asked. When the young man did not answer, he continued, "I'll tell you. You are thinking that though currently you are not conducting yourself in a manner that chassidus expects of you, when you will grow older, you will surely live up to those expectations. Well, I too entertained such thoughts when I was young, but experience has taught me that I was wrong! One must put effort into ’עבודת ה from a young age."

You need Light

When encountering the difference between Chakirah (Jewish philosophy) and Kabbala, one can ask the question: what’s the purpose of Light? After studying Chassidus, one can ask a more eidel question: if everything is about the Essence of G-d, and, indeed, only about this world, again, what’s the need for Light, intellectual understanding of the deeper aspects of a mitzva and emotions while performing the mitzva? If we reach G-d’s Essence through the physical deed itself, what else is needed?

Excerpt from Inyonei Toras HaChassidus. The second and third paragraphs are my focus; the first one is for the context. (The Rebbe is discussing the concept of acquiring a physical object through one’s daled amos. For more detail, see here.)

[T]he Yechida manifests itself (not only in the purification of the physical object which is outside the person; but also) in the different levels of the soul itself, the four levels of Nefesh, Ruach, Neshama, and Chaya. Only through them does the Yechida affect the physical object that is outside the person (though the arousal of the Yechida comes solely because of the purification [Birur] of the physical object).

A parallel of this phenomenon can be seen in the power of the Essence of G-d, “whose Existence comes from Himself” [i.e., the Essence of G-d is the only level that does not derive its origins and sustenance from other than itself: it is its own source]. Though this power is specifically expressed through the creation of a physical being¹, nevertheless, eliciting this power of Essence into an independent being comes only through the Light, “the Light is that which mediates between True Being and created being. Thus, through the mediation of the Light, the power of Essence is enabled to bring about the existence of a ‘thing’ from complete and utter nothingness.” (Ma’amar “Yechayenu” 5694, ch. 14 [Sefer HaMa'amorim 5711 p. 391]; see also Iggeres HaKodesh Sect. XX.)

Similarly in the individual’s service: though the manifestation of Essence comes through the fulfillment of the mitzvos of action, nevertheless the manner of drawing the Essence into the performance of mitzvos is only through the inner powers: Intellect and Emotions. (See Likutei Sichos 111, p. 956, that for this reason Love and Fear are called “the paths of G-d”. Examine there further in detail.)

A more detailed explanation here (and in the whole sicha).
____________________
¹ In the above-mentioned sicho, the Rebbe says:

A Jew for G-d

We find in Torah that the first one to call Jews a nation was the Pharaoh: “Behold, the people of the children of Israel are more numerous and stronger than we are” (Shmois 1:9). G-d is the second to call Jews a nation, while talking to Moshe Rabbeinu, and later, in the context of giving Jews Torah.

I’ll elevate it

In the haftorah for parshas Zahor, we read the following exchange between Shmuel the prophet and king Shaul:

13. And Samuel came to Saul, and Saul said to him, “May you be blessed of the Lord; I have fulfilled the word of the Lord.”
14. And Samuel said, “What then is this bleating of the sheep in my ears? And the lowing of the oxen which I hear?”
15. And Saul said, “They brought them from the Amalekites, for the people had pity on the best of the sheep, and the oxen, in order to sacrifice to the Lord your G-d: and the rest we have utterly destroyed.”
16. And Samuel said to Saul, “Desist, and I shall tell you what the Lord spoke to me last night.” And he said to him, “Speak.”

17. And Samuel said, “Even if you are small in your own eyes, are you not the head of the tribes of Israel? And the Lord anointed you as king over Israel.
18. And the Lord sent you on a mission, and said, ‘Go, and you shall utterly destroy the sinners, the Amalekites, and you shall wage war against them until they destroy them.’
19. Now, why did you not hearken to the voice of the Lord, but you flew upon the spoil, and you did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord?”
20. And Saul said to Samuel, “Yes, I did hearken to the voice of the Lord. I did go on the mission on which the Lord sent me, and I brought Agag, the king of Amalek alive, and have utterly destroyed the Amalekites.
21. And the people took from the spoil, sheep and oxen, the best of the ban, to sacrifice to your G-d in Gilgal.”
22. And Samuel said, “Has the Lord [as much] desire in burnt offerings and peace-offerings, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than a peace-offering; to hearken [is better] than the fat of rams.
23. For rebellion is as the sin of divination, and stubbornness is as idolatry and teraphim. Since you rejected the word of the Lord, He has rejected you from being a king.”

There is a concept called “chassidish yetzer horah”, or “a yetzer horah that wears a kapoteh” — a yetzer horah that uses chassidish excuses. For example, when a chossid tells himself that something is wrong for him: some action, some pursuit, some environment, the yetzer horah then answers: “You are right. It’s not such a great thing; it’s not ideal. But we were sent into this world to elevate it — you will interact with this phenomenon which on the surface is wrong for you and will mekarev it to Hashem.”

This can range from going to a baseball game (which every chossid knows is pure evil, but perhaps he tells himself that he will somehow “elevate it”) to being in a relationship (of any kind) that is clearly wrong for one reason or another for a chossid, but he excuses it by telling himself that he will bring the other person in the relationship closer to Hashem, influence the person (even though deep in his heart he knows it’s hardly possible in this situation).

It can also include doing something that the Rebbe clearly said is wrong for a Jew or a chossid. The same excuse is applied: perhaps this situation can be “sacrificed to your G-d in Gilgal”.

Well, yes, it is true that we were sent into this world to elevate it. But we have to do it according to Hashem’s Will and according to the instructions of Moshe Rabbeinu of our generation. We must be very careful when trying to determine whether what we are doing is really appropriate, and whether we are really making a sacrifice that Hashem commanded or are just using this as an excuse to have a barbecue. “To obey is better than a peace-offering; to hearken is better than the fat of rams.”

[Part 2 here]

Make sure if affects you

The following post contains a detail that may be disturbing to some people; so, be warned.

Most people know the famous story with Mitteler Rebbe and the interrupted yechidus. Tonight, I found a detail about it which I had not known before. I can’t find the story online at the moment (if someone can, please leave a comment with a link), so I will summarize it as I remembered it.

The story went as follows. One day, a man entered a yechidus of the Mitteler Rebbe. Shortly after, Mitteler Rebbe interrupted the yechidus and canceled all other meetings for the day. He locked himself in his office, saying Tehillim. He secretary thought that something terrible must have happened, so he also started saying Tehillim. Other people present asked the secretary what was up, were told, and also started saying Tehillim. Soon, the whole place was saying Tehillim.

Eventually, when the Rebbe left his office, he explained what had happened. When a Jew would come into his presence for yechidus with a specific question, which usually had to do with some fault of character or avoida, in order to prescribe a method to fix this flaw, Mitteler Rebbe would “associate” himself with a Jew and find corresponding fault in his own character or avoida, albeit, on a higher level. (The Rebbe was able to do this being a neshama klalis, which is usually the point for which this story is told.)

With this particular Jew, however, Mitteler Rebbe was not able to find anything even remotely similar to what the Jew had done. This made him think that the flaw was so deep that it wass not even consciously perceived by the Rebbe himself. This upset the Rebbe, who started saying Tehillim hoping to gain knowledge of that fault. Eventually he was able to see it.

The story usually ends here, without going into detail about the specific aveira of the Jew and what that corresponded to in, lehavdil, the Mitteler Rebbe’s avoida.

Tonight someone told me what both were. The Jew who went to yechidus was working at a cemetery. He had seen someone beautiful being buried there and could not control himself, committing a forbidden act with the body.

Now, what was the corresponding problem that Mitteler Rebbe was able to find on his own level? Learning Chassidus but not letting it affect one’s character and avoida.

The only reason I posted this detail is that it is both a striking image and an important lesson for everyone learning Chassidus and being engaged one way or another in the world of Chassidishkeit.

Update (from a comment): “I heard that the Mittler Rebbe said that he sometimes says Chassidus that is too deep for anyone to understand, and even though he knows nobody will understand it he still gets enjoyment from teaching the Chassidus.

This was, on a very refined level, M'eyn the sin that this person did, since in that case as well all the pleasure is in the Mashpia, and the Mekabel gets nothing.”

Elevating reishus

Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need — a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog, and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear, and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.
— Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat

In this post, I described a person’s involvement in things “permissible but not necessary” (i.e., things which are neither muttar nor ossur) as “addictions”. I.e., if a person has to wear nice clothes to feel like a mentch, it’s similar to the Rebbetzin Rivka having to eat in the morning in order to daven. So, this person has to wear the nice clothes to function as a person, and therefore, as a Jew. But, I asked, wouldn’t it be nice if the person did not have such addictions?

In his fourth shiur on Tanya (in the Leap Year series), Rabbi Paltiel describes this differently. He does not use the concept of addiction. Instead, he looks straight at the purpose for which something in the realm of klipas nogah is used for. If a person dresses up nicely to feel more together in order to daven (or learn Torah, perform other mitzvos, etc.) better, then he elevated those clothes into the realm of kedusha. Clothes, nice house, nice food, entertainment, lots of money — if these things directly augment one’s service of Hashem, they are made holy!

If, on the other hand, they are used for their own sake, for indulgence, they are made into a sin; their spiritual status is lowered to that of sholosh klipos tmeios.

I cut out the particular part where he describes this. I found the language and the examples used rather interesting.



And yet, we find Alter Rebbe objecting to his grandson (not Tzemach Tzedek) wearing clothes in the latest Parisian fashion.

In other news, the value for the speed of light was (more or less) confirmed using chocolate; French President’s einekel had a bris al pi Halacha, while a famous Italian cooking show host was fired for using cat meat in one of his dishes.

How to daven well

(source)

I am not parroting Hesh’s posts, but I just thought this was a good link to share. Posts 13 and 14 here.

* * *

An excerpt from Making of Chassidim about a chossid of Ba’al Shem Tov observing other Jews davening:

Reb Mordechai also recited Tikkun Chatzos along with several other Jews who had assembled for that purpose. When they finished reciting Tikkun Chatzos, it was already broad daylight, for it was at the beginning of Tammuz, [when the sun rises early]. Members of the chevrah Tehillim began to assemble; these were Jews who gathered in the beis hamedrash each day at three o’clock in the morning to recite Tehillim. Most of these Jews were tradesmen: tailors, cobblers, butchers, coachmen, and other village workmen.

When a few minyonim of Jews had assembled, one of the chevrah Tehillim members began reciting: “Fortunate is the man who does not follow the counsel of the wicked.” The others immediately began following along, with such delight and devotion that Reb Mordechai envied their staunch innocence and sincerity.

The facial expressions of the each of the Tehillim sayers reflected an innocent charm, and an inner devotion to what they were reciting. From time to time the tone of the sayers’ voices changed: now prayerful, now hopeful, now broken. One could tell by their faces that they were aware of, and understood, what they were saying.

Reb Mordechai was quite moved by these Tehillim sayers, and yet there was one thing he could not tolerate: the frigid and lifeless manner of these people. Their frigid and lifeless movements and sounds made a gloomy impression upon him.

“This is what misnagdim are like”, thought Reb Mordechai. “They are good Jews, pious and precious, but also frigid and lifeless. Buried within these Jews lies the untapped timeless treasure to which the Rebbe the Baal Shem Tov applied the verse, ‘For you will be [G-d’s] treasured land’; but they remain misnagdim all the same.”

But then Reb Mordechai thought to himself, “What about me, what am I? I myself am nothing but a dead herring!” He had once imagined himself to be the Holy One’s confederate, and expected that any day that the prophet Eliyahu would reveal himself to him.

The only difference was that G-d, blessed be He, had taken pity upon him, and caused events to evolve in such a way that he had ended up in a far-away land where he was privileged to meet the Baal Shem Tov. Within two years’ time he had rid himself of the coarse impurities in his character.

These frigid, lifeless, stiff Jews, along with their emaciated porush could also be saved by the Baal Shem Tov. The Rebbe, with his path of Divine service actually resurrected the dead; he turned cold into warm, and brought the dead to life. Compare, for example, [these Jews] with those simple Jews whom Reb Mordechai had seen in the village of Zaslov, where he had first heard the Baal Shem Tov’s name.

He remembered the faces of those Jews — those Tehillim sayers were also cobblers, tailors, coachmen, and butchers. But those Jews were alive, happy, reciting Tehillim with joy, davening with gladness, doing favors for one another with relish. Their ahavas Yisrael made them into one big family. True, their respect for the Torah was somewhat lacking — they were quite capable of addressing a Torah scholar by name, without adding the title Moreinu, and they might even address him using the familiar pronoun “du”, but nonetheless, they were truly cherished Jews.

Reb Mordechai davening himself, having mentally reviewed a teaching of Ba’al Shem Tov:

Each repetition of this teaching awoke within him a willingness and desire to engage in the avodah of prayer. So it was on the present occasion too. After Reb Mordechai returned from the stream where he had immersed himself, he began his preparations for davening. He repeated the Rebbe's teaching several times, and meditated deeply about it. Then, he commenced his davening.

At about ten o’clock in the morning, the city dignitaries began to assemble in the grave diggers’ shul for a meeting of the chevrah kadishah. A prominent and wealthy citizen of the town had just died (may we be spared). They had to decide what plot he was to be buried in, the price the chevrah kadishah was to charge for the grave, and on what civic improvements this money should be spent. The meeting lasted for several hours, and there was much shouting and screaming. But Reb Mordechai remained seated in the southwestern corner of the shul, completely oblivious to what was happening.

One of the men attending the meeting happened to notice the stranger sitting in tallis and tefillin, his eyes open, his face flushed, muttering a few words from time to time. His words were whispered, and it was difficult to make out what he was saying. Right in the middle, he would break into some kind of song with an unfamiliar melody. The one who first noticed it told several others, and soon all the men were staring at him, wondering who this stranger might be.

Just then, a few of the assistant grave diggers came, to ask the gabbai where they should dig the grave for the deceased. One of the grave diggers had been present the previous day between Minchah and Maariv, when Reb Mordechai had related that in Vohlynia-Podolia there lived a great gaon and tzaddik, a miracle-worker known throughout the region as the Baal Shem Tov.

The assembled dignitaries listened to the grave digger’s report with open mouths, as they remained sitting in the beis hamedrash gazing at the unknown Jew.

How strange! At twelve o’clock noon, a Jew sits in tallis and tefillin, apparently still davening! Hours passed, and these Jews still had not had their fill of watching the strange Jew daven. At last they heard the sounds of the funeral procession, and they left to join it.

As they marched along, they told the story of the unknown Jew who was sitting in the grave diggers’ shul and davening. The listeners were skeptical, so when they returned from the cemetery (Reb Mordechai was then up to Kerias Shema), a large crowd gathered to watch him daven. When Reb Mordechai finished davening, he removed a piece of bread from his bag, washed his hands, and ate the bread with some water. After this meal, he lay down on a bench to rest.

There is an even better part describing his davening, but I don’t have time to look for it now.