The saintly brothers Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk and Rabbi Zusha of Anipoli set out to wander the roads. They had undertaken five years of self-imposed exile to refine their souls. Above all, they sought to uproot from their hearts every trace of ego and pride. And what could be better for this than exile, which “diminishes one’s wealth and one’s reputation.”
They traveled from city to city and village to village. They looked like two miserable beggars going from door to door. During those years, the two holy brothers endured periods of hunger and hardship and suffered frequent humiliation. On one occasion, they were even physically beaten.
Yet none of this caused them the slightest distress. On the contrary, they rejoiced over every humiliation and indignity they experienced, for these were signs that their exile was accomplishing its purpose.
The brothers followed a strict rule: they kept their distance from the wealthy and prominent, and even from distinguished Torah scholars and renowned Rabbis. “Whoever attaches himself to honor, honor attaches itself to him,” they would say. They therefore made a point of associating only with ordinary people, beggars and those who ate at soup kitchens.
The End of Five Years
The five years of exile that Rabbi Elimelech and Rabbi Zusha had undertaken were nearing their end. The brothers agreed that they would each find a permanent place to live and spread the teachings of Chassidus in his respective community.
At that time, they arrived in the city of Liska, whose Rabbi was the renowned Rabbi Menachem Mendel Horowitz, an outstanding Torah scholar and a man of distinguished lineage.
Since their period of exile was almost over, and they had already resolved that they would soon cease concealing themselves and begin openly spreading Chassidus, they felt a desire to visit the Rabbi, a man renowned for his Torah scholarship and fear of Heaven. Perhaps, they thought, they would hear from him an inspiring Torah thought or an uplifting teaching.
They came to the Rabbi’s home and stood at the entrance like poor beggars, asking for charity.
The Two Gold Coins
The Rabbi gave them a searching look. He immediately extended his hand warmly and greeted them with a friendly “Shalom Aleichem, Jews.” A moment later, he reached into his pocket and took out two coins, giving one to each brother. The brothers thanked the Rabbi for his generosity and left, disappointed that they had not heard a Torah teaching from him.
Once outside the Rabbi’s home, however, the brothers discovered to their astonishment that each of them was holding a gold coin. They looked at one another, concern spreading across their faces.
Rabbi Elimelech turned to his brother and said, “Elimelech is afraid to keep this gold coin. Perhaps the Rabbi made a mistake and intended to give a copper coin. If so, Elimelech would be benefiting from something that does not belong to him.”
Rabbi Zusha nodded. “Zusha, too, is afraid to keep this gold coin. Perhaps the Rabbi of Liska was mistaken in his assessment and thought the two poor men standing before him were Torah scholars. If so, Zusha would be deceiving him.”
Rabbi Elimelech looked at his brother. “If that is your concern, my dear Zusha, you can be at ease. After all, you truly are a Torah scholar. But Elimelech is still troubled. Perhaps the Rabbi made a mistake and intended to give him only a copper coin.”
Returning to the Rabbi’s Home
A moment later, Rabbi Elimelech added, “and if the Rabbi really did intend to give a gold coin, then the situation is twice as serious. Pride might enter Elimelech’s heart, and he might think, ‘look! Even when dressed like a miserable beggar, they give him a gold coin, as one would give to a Torah scholar. Clearly, the Divine Presence shines upon his face!’”
The two brothers became lost in thought. Suddenly Rabbi Zusha exclaimed, “Heaven forbid, my beloved brother, that you should cast suspicion upon your pure soul and stain it with pride! Still, it is clear that some mistake has been made. These gold coins cannot belong to us. Let us return to the Rabbi’s home and give them back.”
The saintly brothers returned and placed the coins on his table. “We have no desire, G-d forbid, to benefit from something that is not ours. Surely the honored Rabbi mistakenly gave us gold coins instead of copper, for gold coins are not given to beggars.”
The Rabbi of Liska looked at them with a smile in his eyes. “No, my masters. There was no mistake here. No one confuses copper with gold. Rather, thank G-d, I have a good eye for people. I recognized that you were deserving of a generous donation, and therefore I gave you what I gave you. Take the coins back; they belong to you.”
Accepting Goodness
Rabbi Elimelech and Rabbi Zusha looked at the Rabbi in confusion, hesitating whether to reach for the coins.
Suddenly, the Rabbi’s expression became serious. He fixed the brothers with a penetrating gaze. “It seems to me,” he said, “that Jews who have spent several consecutive years wandering in exile should have reached a state of complete bittul. They should have attained genuine humility, without even the slightest concern for their own self-image. They should possess simple sincerity, able to accept with love and equanimity not only suffering and humiliation—but also goodness and pleasantness.”
Rabbi Elimelech and Rabbi Zusha were shaken to the depths of their souls by his piercing words. They quickly took the coins, and with heads bowed and eyes lowered, left the Rabbi’s home. Indeed, they had merited hearing exactly what they needed to hear.
On the spot, they resolved to undertake one additional year of exile.