The Belzer Rebbe once fell seriously ill, and following his recovery, his doctor issued a strict medical directive: he was to take extreme precautions to avoid exposure to germs. He was told to avoid places with high risk of contamination in order to prevent any recurrence of illness.
Included in this directive was a particularly painful restriction. He was forbidden from using the mikveh, the ritual bath. For the Rebbe, this was more than a mere inconvenience. Immersing in the mikveh was a source of profound spiritual elevation, a moment infused with holiness and purity. To be cut off from it was a heavy spiritual burden.
A few weeks later, a close confidant of the Rebbe was walking to shul one morning when, to his astonishment, he saw the Rebbe entering the mikveh building. Troubled and knowing full well the doctor’s orders, he refrained from making assumptions and instead resolved to quietly observe what was truly happening.
The next morning, he arrived at the mikveh early, around the time the Rebbe would usually be on his way to shul. He watched closely.
Sure enough, the Rebbe entered. He walked over to the shelves, removed his coat and clothes, approached the mikveh pool, stepped down to the edge, paused, and then turned around. He dressed again and walked out, never having immersed in the water.
Perplexed, the man was left to wonder: Why go through all that? Why come to the mikveh, undress, step toward the water—only to walk away?
And then the message became clear. The Rebbe was embodying a lesson about how we ought to approach life as a Jew.
Too often, we fall into the trap of all-or-nothing thinking. Whether in the workplace, at home, or walking down the street, we may think: If I can't completely overcome this challenge... what’s the point of even trying? Either I win completely or I’ve failed entirely.
But the Rebbe was modeling a different path: do what you can, and entrust the rest to G-d.
If entering the mikveh was no longer possible due to health concerns, so be it. But that wouldn’t stop the Rebbe from doing everything within his power to pursue ruchniyus, spiritual elevation. Every day, he would go to the mikveh, prepare himself, approach the water, and stop just short of immersing. In doing so, he demonstrated his unwavering yearning for kedushah. The final outcome was in Hashem’s hands.
And so it is with us. In life, we are called not to perfection, but to sincere effort. If you do something for one hour a week, or one hour a day, that is an achievement. Our task is not to win every battle, but to show up to the fight and do what we can.
Sometimes, you cannot enter the water, but you can get as close as possible to it. That act alone proclaims to the Ribbono Shel Olam, “I want to be holy. I am trying. And I know You will help me with the rest.”
