Like the Beis HaMikdash
The previous chapter gave an overview of the attributes of a tzaddik and discussed how people as well as objects are considered holy when G-d’s presence rests within them. Just as we have awe and reverence for a Torah scroll because of the G-dliness vested in it, so, too, we have awe and reverence for a tzaddik.
The chapter ended with a question: Why is it necessary to focus so extensively on a tzaddik? Doesn’t it take away from our emphasis on other things in Judaism: studying Torah, performing mitzvos, and directing one’s thoughts to G-d — the ultimate source of everything?
These questions will be addressed in this chapter, beginning with the explanation that connecting to a tzaddik in order to become closer to G-d is not an innovation of chassidic practice but a basic fundamental principle of the Torah.
Focusing on a Tzaddik
The Talmud discusses the following verse from the Torah: “You should attach yourself to Him, [i.e., to G-d],” and asks, “How can one attach oneself to G-d? G-d is compared to fire, so how can you attach yourself to fire?”1
See Deuteronomy 4:24 which states: “For the L-rd thy G-d is a devouring fire....”
2. Deuteronomy 11:22. It is also enumerated by the Rambam in his Sefer HaMitzvos as the sixth positive commandment in the Torah.
It is explained there that the way to become connected to G-d is by attaching and connecting oneself to a tzaddik. Connecting to a tzaddik is neither “un-Jewish” nor a spiritual luxury for a select group of truth seekers; on the contrary, it is the only method prescribed by the Torah to become truly connected to G-d. This idea — commonly thought to be the exclusive domain of chassidic teachings and practice — is a basic principle outlined in the Talmud, the ultimate authority of Jewish law.
Nevertheless, the question still remains: Why should a Jew place so much importance on a human being of flesh and blood? Why should such a large part of his Jewish practice focus on being connected to a tzaddik? Why not just focus directly on G-d?
A Tzaddik Is Compared to the Beis HaMikdash
This can be explained with a powerful statement from the Talmud which states that the passing of a tzaddik is equivalent to the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash:
The fast of the fifth (month) refers to Tishah B’Av, for on that date the house of our G-d was burned. The fast of the seventh (month) refers to the third of Tishrei, for on that date, Gedaliah Ben Achikam was assassinated.... The [latter] day is included here to teach you that the death of the righteous is equivalent to the burning of the house of our G-d.
It is an obvious deduction that if the passing of a tzaddik is like the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, then the life of the tzaddik must also be similar to the purpose and function of the Beis HaMikdash.3
Illustration from the Talmud
This is further illustrated with a story from the Talmud. There it discusses the actions of a king named Herod whose claim to be Jewish was questioned by all the Jewish authorities.
During his reign, the great Sages at that time ruled that according to Torah law he did not have the qualifications to be a Jewish king. To show them what he thought of their ruling, Herod had them all killed. The only one he allowed to live was a relative of his named Bava ben Buta, but Herod blinded him in order to weaken his power.
Ironically, Herod would come to Bava ben Buta for advice, and after a period of time recognized the value of his incredible Talmudic wisdom, lamenting, “I sincerely regret my actions because I see what a tremendous asset these Rabbis would have been to the world. How can I repent and correct the damage I did?”
“Because you destroyed the tzaddikim,” he answered, “the way to repent and correct that is by rebuilding the Temple.” As the Talmud states: “Since you extinguished the light of the world, (for so are the Rabbis called)... occupy yourself now with restoring the light of the world, [meaning the Temple]....”
From Bava ben Buta’s response in the Talmud, the notion of a tzaddik’s equivalence with the Beis HaMikdash is more tangibly reinforced.45
Obligation to Visit the Rebbe
There is yet another similarity in the Torah between a Rebbe and the Beis HaMikdash. There is a law that three times a year, during the Shalosh Regalim (the Jewish holidays of Pesach, Shavuos and Sukkos), one is obligated to travel to the Beis HaMikdash. The commentaries explain that just as in Temple times it was a commandment to visit the Beis HaMikdash three times a year, a person is likewise obligated to visit his Rebbe during the festivals.
The comparison between a tzaddik and the Beis HaMikdash can be found in other places in the Talmud. For example, when G-d says: “Even though the Temple was destroyed, I left [the Jewish people] a ‘miniature Temple,’” one of the explanations in the Talmud is that during the Jewish exile in Babylonia, a “miniature Temple” (mikdash m’at) referred to the house of Rav, who was a tzaddik and the greatest Torah authority at that time.
So when the Talmud says that a miniature Beis HaMikdash is the home of Rav in Babylonia, it is establishing some sort of equality between the tzaddik and the Temple.
The Spiritual Purpose of the Beis HaMikdash
Since we have seen in several places that a tzaddik is equated with the Beis HaMikdash, understanding the spiritual purpose of the Beis HaMikdash will help us understand the role of a tzaddik.
This now explains why one’s true attachment to G-d comes through being attached to a tzaddik. The attachment to a tzaddik exists whether it is actively pursued or not. But the more one works at attaching oneself to a tzaddik, the more one’s attachment to G-d will be revealed.
In order to feel the attachment spiritually and emotionally — not only that a person does mitzvos and studies Torah but that these practices are accompanied by an awareness, love and awe of G-d — one must be connected to the source where G-dliness is revealed.
One might say, “Well, I went to visit a tzaddik and did not become inspired. All I saw was someone who looks like anyone else: two hands, two feet, a nose and a mouth. I did not experience this sudden awareness of G-d’s presence in the world.”
This can be explained with a story about a very great chassidic Rebbe who lived in a small shtetl in Eastern Europe. In a certain city, chassidim of this tzaddik would travel to him during the festivals. There was also a particular individual in this city who was not a chassid. Whenever the chassidim would come back from their visit, they would be bubbling with excitement — full of inspiration and stories about their visit and what happened during the holiday.
In one way, this individual envied them, but since he wasn’t a chassid, he would never dream of accompanying them. Nevertheless, they would always ask him to go along with them to see what it was all about, and one time they actually convinced him to go.
And so he went. He walked into the shul and indeed saw this great tzaddik, but looking at him, he thought to himself, “Well, I don’t see anything unusual — just a human being who looks like anyone else. He even looks into his siddur to daven just like the rest of us. Is this who they all get so excited about?!”
As he stood there deep in thought, the tzaddik, who could read everything that was going on in his mind, called him over and said, “Do you have any questions to ask?” “No,” he replied. “Well then let me tell you a story. There was once a Jew who lived in Israel in the times of the Beis HaMikdash but never went to visit the Beis HaMikdash. The people in his community traveled there for every holiday and used to come back bubbling with excitement. They were full of inspiration and stories to tell about their experience, but he himself would never go.
He was getting older and said to himself at one point, ‘If I don’t go now, I don’t know if I will ever have a chance to go. Maybe I should take the opportunity to go to the Beis HaMikdash.’
So he began his travels. Coming to a fork in the road, he didn’t know which road to take to Jerusalem. He stopped a young boy and asked him the way. Astonished, the young boy raised his eyebrows and exclaimed, ‘You don’t know which road takes you to Jerusalem?! A man of your age doesn’t know the way to Jerusalem when you’re supposed to go there three times a year?!’
He was embarrassed, of course, but he finally managed to get the directions and proceed on his way. He soon came to another fork in the road and once again had to go through the same embarrassment. This repeated itself again and again until he finally arrived in Jerusalem.
After finding his way to the Beis HaMikdash and entering its gates, he was shocked to see it filled with a hefty number of goats, sheep and cows, rows of tables on which meat was being chopped up as if in a butcher shop, and kohanim (priests) running around barefoot. One kohen would be occupied with stirring the blood contained in a particular vessel while another would be sprinkling blood on the Altar.
He looked at the scene and said, ‘I can’t believe it! This is it? This is what all the commotion is about? A bunch of barefooted people and all these animals running around?!’
Lost in thought, he was approached by the Kohen Gadol (High Priest) who said, ‘Excuse me. I see you have an animal here you want to sacrifice. Can you tell me in connection to what sin are you bringing it?’ The man began to stutter and said, ‘It’s not really for a sin. I’m not the kind of person who commits sins. But just to be sure, in case I did something somewhere that was not one hundred percent, I came here.’
The Kohen Gadol interrupted him and said, ‘But what about what you did in so and so’s house a week ago Monday night?’
When the tzaddik described exactly what this person had done himself on a Monday night the week before, the person turned pale. Then he said, “And what about what you did a few weeks before that on Tuesday afternoon in this part of the city?” The person again went pale, realizing that the tzaddik had holy vision and could see everything he did.
At that point, he finally recognized what a tzaddik is and asked the Rebbe for a path to guide him in sincere repentance.
Yes, a person could stand in the holy Beis HaMikdash and instead of seeing G-dliness and spirituality, see a bunch of animals, blood and barefooted people.
How could various people perceive the same situation and circumstances so completely differently? Because to see G-dliness and spirituality, a person must have some measure of spiritual refinement himself. If a person has spent his life focusing mainly on the material aspects of life, he will see materialism wherever he looks. But a person who has developed himself spiritually will be able to perceive the spirituality outside of himself as well.
That is why a person traveling to the Beis HaMikdash would prepare for the journey by refining himself spiritually. For the most part, the greater his efforts, the more developed his spiritual receptivity would be.
The same applies to a chassid when he travels to his Rebbe. The chassid may often spend a year refining himself spiritually so that he will be more open to receive the spiritual treasures available to him while in the Rebbe’s presence.
Focusing on the Tzaddik Enhances Our G-dly Service
An interesting statement made by the Rebbe the Tzemach Tzedek provides a commentary on the words “machtzis hashekel” (the half-shekel) in the Torah. The word machtzis is spelled with the Hebrew letters — mem ches tzaddik yud saf. The letter tzaddik is in the middle. The two letters on either side of the tzaddik spell the word chai, which refers to life. The two letters that are distant from the tzaddik, the first and the last, constitute the Hebrew word meis, which means death.
Since G-d is the source of life, the closer you are to G-d, the closer you are to life, while the farther you are from G-d, the farther you are from life.
Therefore, since a tzaddik contains G-d’s presence within him and generates this to the rest of the world, that which is closer to the tzaddik is chai — full of life and blessing. What is farther away is more distant from chai. Therefore connecting and focusing on one’s connection to the tzaddik does not detract from his G-dly service, but increases his ability to serve G-d and receive blessing in all areas of his existence.
The Connection Between The Beis HaMikdash and a Tzaddik
The function of the tzaddik is directly parallel to that of the Beis HaMikdash. The tzaddik not only contains revealed G-dliness within himself (because G-d’s presence, the Shechinah, dwells and is revealed within a tzaddik) but a tzaddik is like a power station through whom G-d’s presence is revealed and exposed to the rest of the world. This occurs on both a conscious and subconscious level.
On a simple conscious level, hearing a tzaddik’s Torah teachings, observing how he prays, or witnessing his refined nature, character traits, and extraordinary love for every Jew, all contributes to heightening one’s awareness of G-d. So, too, G-dliness is revealed on a conscious level when one witnesses or hears about the miracles a tzaddik performs, similar to the reaction one had when witnessing the ten miracles that occurred on a constant basis in the Beis HaMikdash.1617
But on a subconscious level, there are several changes taking place within a person as well when in the Rebbe’s presence. These hidden stirrings then translate into an awakened love for G-d and a heightened awareness of, and sensitivity to, G-dliness.
Additionally, people in the world in general will feel an awareness of G-d as a result of the tzaddik’s presence and service in the world. Through his Torah study and prayer, a tzaddik not only draws down and contains G-dliness within himself, but he radiates this G-dliness throughout the rest of the world.
That is why it is also an obligation to visit one’s Rebbe during a holiday. Going to a tzaddik reinforces and strengthens our awareness, sensitivity and consciousness of G-d. One doesn’t visit a tzaddik just to help him follow the “do’s and don’ts” of Torah law. A person could accomplish that by opening up the Shulchan Aruch (the Code of Jewish Law). The main purpose of going to a tzaddik is to establish an awareness and consciousness of G-d and to develop a love, awe, and profound belief in Him.
Based on all the above, what was once accomplished through the medium of the Beis HaMikdash is presently brought about through the tzaddik.18
One may wonder: shouldn’t it follow that since the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash there should be no awareness of G-d’s presence (or goodness) in the world at all? This would certainly be true if the destruction had been complete. But like the analogy of the brain where a destroyed brain would mean no life, a damaged brain means a compromised life. In such a case, a person might be in a coma or in a state of unconsciousness where there’s life, but it’s a very poor quality of life.
The same is true in our current situation of exile: G-dliness may be in an unconscious state, but it is not completely absent.
Two factors make this so: Even though the Temple was destroyed, the place on which it stood still contains G-d’s presence in a revealed way (albeit to a much lesser degree).16
So, too, on a certain level, the existence of a tzaddik brings about the awareness of G-d in the world.
