Chassidut.ai

Recap and opening — they did not merely teach it, they lived it

Welcome to the nineteenth lesson on the maamar Basi LeGani 5711. We continue in chapter 6.

In the previous lesson we learned the idea: the Mishkan was built specifically from 'acacia wood' — a 'wood of folly' — to teach us that the whole avodah is to transform the 'koch,' the wild fervor of the animal soul, from 'folly of the other side' into 'folly of holiness': devotion above reason and knowledge.

And we ended with a sentence that brings it all back to life: 'all the matters that my father-in-law the Rebbe demanded of us — and likewise the other Rebbeim — they themselves fulfilled.' The Rebbeim did not merely demand devotion without calculation; they lived it.

And where do we see this 'folly of holiness' in practice? Specifically in ahavas Yisrael — in the readiness to set yourself aside entirely, even your loftiest spiritual avodah, for the sake of another Jew. We will see today a series of stories, from the Alter Rebbe to the Rebbe Rayatz. Each of them is folly of holiness in actuality.

And in the words of the maamar: 'and behold, all the matters that my father-in-law the Rebbe demanded of us, and likewise the other Rebbeim, they fulfilled in themselves, and this is along the lines of the saying of our Sages on the verse He tells His words to Yaakov, His statutes and judgments to Israel — what He does, He tells Israel to do and to keep, and likewise what He commands Israel, He does; and so it is in the directives of our leaders, that what they demanded of those connected and bound to them, they themselves fulfilled and did. And what they revealed to us that they fulfilled this, is in order that it be easier for us to fulfill them. And as in the matter of ahavas Yisrael, of which there are many, many stories from each of the leaders.'

The Alter Rebbe — to leave everything and cook soup for a new mother

Let us begin with the Alter Rebbe, author of the Tanya. It is told that once, in the middle of his prayer — and the Alter Rebbe's prayer was an immense devotion, an actual ascent of the soul — he heard that in the town there was a woman who had just given birth, weak, with no one to care for her.

And in the words of the maamar: 'and for example, from my father-in-law the Alter Rebbe, that he interrupted his prayer and went and chopped wood and cooked soup and fed the new mother himself, because there were no people there in the house.'

What did he do? He cut short his prayer, went out, chopped wood with his own hands, lit a fire, cooked soup for her — and fed her himself, since there were no other people in the house. The author of the Tanya, head of the generation — a woodcutter, cooking and feeding a poor new mother with his own hands.

Think of the logic. A person at such a level, in the midst of a spiritual avodah whose height we cannot fathom — what is it 'worth his while' to do? To continue ascending. But true ahavas Yisrael does not make this calculation. It is 'folly of holiness': above any reckoning of 'what do I gain spiritually.'

And this is exactly our matter. Specifically the surrender of personal ascent, for the simple, physical need of another Jew — this is the devotion above reason, that same 'wood of folly' from which a dwelling for the Holy One is built.

The Mitteler Rebbe — to feel another’s pain in one’s own body

Let us move to his son, the Mitteler Rebbe. It is known that when a chassid would enter to him for a private audience (yechidus) and pour out his heart over a lowly state, the Mitteler Rebbe would sometimes literally faint.

And in the words of the maamar: 'from my father-in-law the Mitteler Rebbe, how one entered to him for yechidus and complained about the matters that young men complain about. And the Mitteler Rebbe bared his arm and said to him: do you not see that my skin has shriveled upon my flesh — and all this is from your weakness of soul.'

Once they asked him: how can the Rebbe help and rebuke a person, if he himself faints from the matters? And he answered — baring his arm and showing him — 'do you not see that my skin has shriveled upon my flesh,' my skin has clung to my bones, 'and all this is from your weakness of soul.' That is: your spiritual deficiency I feel in my very body, until my flesh has wasted away.

This is an astonishing level of ahavas Yisrael. The Mitteler Rebbe did not 'hear about' the chassid's problem from the outside; he felt it as if it were his own, in his flesh. The pain of another Jew became his very own pain.

And there is a further depth here. The Mitteler Rebbe was on a lofty, sublime level, utterly removed from the lowly matters the chassid complained about. And nonetheless — his bond with the chassid was so deep that the other's flawed spiritual state acted upon him actual weakness of body, 'until his skin shriveled upon him.' Not the distance of a great one from a small one — but complete identification.

And this too is 'folly of holiness': to go entirely beyond the bounds of your own 'self,' until the other lives within you. Think how far this is from ordinary logic — a person who faints from the soul-distress of someone else. Specifically this going-out from self-reckoning is what builds a dwelling for the Essence.

The Tzemach Tzedek and the Maharash — before prayer, and all the way to Paris

Let us continue to the Tzemach Tzedek, the grandson. It is told that once, before prayer, he learned of a simple Jew who needed money — something that touched his very livelihood. What did the Tzemach Tzedek do? He went himself and borrowed money for him from a free-loan fund — and all this even before he had prayed.

And in the words of the maamar: 'from my father-in-law the Tzemach Tzedek, how he went before prayer to borrow a free loan for a simple man whose livelihood depended on it. From my father-in-law the Maharash, that once he traveled specially from a resort to Paris and met there a certain young man and said to him: young man, non-kosher wine dulls the mind and the heart; be a Jew.'

Note the precision: 'before prayer.' For a Rebbe, prayer is the most precious thing, the peak of the day. And nonetheless — the physical need of a simple Jew comes first. Again the same movement: to set aside my lofty for the lowly of another.

And from here to the Maharash, his son. His conduct in wealth and firmness is well known; and nonetheless, it is told that he traveled specially from a place of rest (a kurort) to Paris, for the sake of one young man who had strayed. He approached him and said in simple words: 'young man — non-kosher wine dulls the mind and the heart; be a Jew.'

And the end? The young man returned home, and found no rest until he came to the Maharash, did complete teshuvah — and from him issued a whole family of G-d-fearing Jews.

And to feel the magnitude of the thing: the Maharash's time was exceedingly precious — even his saying of Chassidus was brief, and by eight in the morning he was already past his prayers. And nonetheless — a long journey and an extended stay, for the sake of one young man. This too is 'folly of holiness': logic asks 'how much to invest in one person?', and ahavas Yisrael answers — he is worth everything.

And in the words of the maamar: 'and the young man went home, and did not rest until he came to my father-in-law the Maharash, did teshuvah, and from him issued a family of G-d-fearing and pious Jews. For it is known that with my father-in-law the Maharash time was exceedingly precious, so that even the saying of Chassidus was brief, and at certain times by the eighth hour in the morning he was already past his prayers, and nonetheless he made a far journey and stayed there a length of time for the sake of a young man.'

The Rashab and the Rayatz — self-sacrifice for the many and for the one

Let us reach the Rashab. When a harsh decree hovered over the whole Jewish people, the Rashab did not suffice with sending others — he himself traveled to Moscow, despite the difficulty and danger, to annul the decree. Self-sacrifice for the entire collective, in his very body.

And in the words of the maamar: 'from my father-in-law the Rashab, at the beginning of his leadership, when a new decree was issued and he had to travel about this to Moscow. And his elder brother, the Raza, said to him: your time is precious, and you do not know the language of the country well (the Raza was learned in languages), and you also need to seek out acquaintances; therefore let me travel in this matter according to your instructions. But my father-in-law the Rashab did not agree to this and traveled himself and succeeded.'

And there is a touching detail here. His elder brother, the Raza, offered to travel in his place: 'your time is precious, and you do not know the country's language well' — the Raza was fluent in languages — 'and you also need to seek out connections and acquaintances; let me travel in this matter according to your instructions.' But the Rashab did not agree. He traveled himself — and succeeded.

And finally, the baal hahilula of today — the Rebbe's father-in-law, the Rebbe Rayatz. His whole life was self-sacrifice: for upholding Judaism under the Soviet regime he gave himself over literally, to imprisonment and the threat of execution. But also in the small: it is told how he invested himself, his entire being, for the sake of one private Jew — spiritually and physically. And he set aside for him not only his physical, but even his spiritual — and that for a person who was not only not 'his fellow in Torah and mitzvos,' but was utterly far from him, in no way his equal.

And in the words of the maamar: 'and likewise there are several stories from my father-in-law the Rebbe about his efforts to do good even to a private individual, spiritually or physically. And he set himself aside for this — not only his physicality but also his spirituality — although the one he was benefiting was not only not at all in the category of your fellow in Torah and mitzvos, but was not at all of his measure.'

Note the full arc. From the Alter Rebbe to the Rebbe Rayatz — generation after generation, the very same movement: to set aside the 'self,' the highest and most precious, for the sake of another Jew, one or many.

The demand upon us — shtus d’kedusha in practice

So let us sum up chapter 6. We learned that the Mishkan was built specifically from 'acacia wood,' because the whole avodah is to transform the power of 'folly' — the devotion above logic — toward holiness. And we saw that this is no abstract idea: the Rebbeim, from the Alter Rebbe to the Rebbe Rayatz, lived it in actuality, in ahavas Yisrael without calculation.

But all of this is not merely a story about great ones. The maamar brings it in order to demand of us. If they — in their greatness — set themselves aside for a Jew, how much more is it incumbent upon us, the seventh generation, to do so.

And 'folly of holiness' for us is not necessarily a journey to Paris or a trip to Moscow. It is anywhere we are willing to step out of self-reckoning for the sake of another Jew: to stop in the middle of 'mine' and give, to feel another's pain, to trouble ourselves for a single soul.