Not everyone was happy with Rav Meir Premishlan’s open Ruach HaKodesh. Some of the other Rebbes and Tzaddikim believed that things like that needed to be kept secret and Kevod Elokim Hester Dovor – some things were better left unsaid and unrevealed, for the sake of Hashem’s honor and glory.
Among the Premishlaner’s detractors was Rav Uri Strelisker and his talmid, Rav Yehuda Tzvi of Stretin. Both Rav Meir and Rav Yehuda Tzvi were once in Levov and there was a grocer there who tried to make peace between them. He had a baby and invited them both to the bris. How did he do so? He invited the Stretiner as the mohel and the Premishlaner as sandak. He just didn’t tell the mohel who the sandak was and he didn’t mention to the sandak who would be the mohel. As neither of them asked, this worked out great, until the day of the bris. The father of the baby picked up the mohel, the Sretiner, from his lodgings in a fine carriage and explained that they would make a stop on the way to pick up the sandak. When the carriage stopped at the Premishlaner’s lodgings and the Stretiner saw who the sandak was going to be, he was surprised, to say the least! When Rav Meir Premishlaner saw the Stretiner sitting in the carriage, he said: “Meir has a minhag to tell stories. Now Meir will also tell a story, and whoever wishes to listen will listen.” And this is the story Rav Meir of Premishlan told:
During the times of the Spanish Inquisition there were many wealthy Jews who, rather than flee at the threat of conversion, disguised themselves and hid their Jewish observance. This act of being a Christian in public and a Jew in secret was against the Halocha, yet they mistakenly believed that the whole thing would soon blow over and be forgotten. They underestimated the Church and the Inquisition. Secret Jews would clandestinely observe mitzvos, such as lighting candles in basements, assembling disguised for tefillos and doing their best to appear as good Christians toward their neighbors and friends, while trying to keep and remember whatever Jewish customs and traditions they could.
Once, a wealthy converso became deathly ill and they summoned the priest for his last rites and confessions, as good Christians did. No one guessed that the high-ranking government figure was really a secret Jew! When the priest arrived, everyone left out of respect for the high-ranking bishop, who came out of respect for the high-ranking government minister. Now the dying man turned his head away. The bishop called in the doctor, and the physician confirmed that the dying man was not so sick and could still speak. When the doctor left, the bishop realized why the minister had turned away. Slowly he removed the cross he had been wearing and with an expression of compassion he whispered into the ears of the dying minister the shocking words of revelation revealing that he too was a secret Jew, a converso. “Shema Yisrael! Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echod – Our G-d is One!” The minister’s eyes opened in shock and astonishment. He turned his head and found compassion and love, with no cross around the bishop’s neck! He fell on the false bishop and wept, and together they recited the Jewish Vidui!
“Please, we are brothers! We serve the same G-d!” he begged. “See that I receive a proper Jewish burial!”
Concluding the story, Rav Meir Premishlaner turned to the Stretiner and repeated the line, “We are brothers. We serve the same G-d. My ways that I received from my ancestors may differ somewhat, but why should we have machlokes? Why should there be anger and strife between us? We can serve Hashem out in the open and not in secret!”
Rav Yehuda Tzvi Stretiner agreed, as Rav Meir held out his hand and together they said Sholom Aleichem and sat side by side in the carriage on the way to the simcha. (Ponim Meirim, page 330–331)
