This story occurred during the lifetime of the Maggid of Mezeritch, the principal successor to the Baal Shem Tov. The Maggid was a master teacher, a genius in both Talmud and Kabbalah. He attracted an inner circle of tzaddikim whom he planted in positions of leadership throughout Eastern Europe—Rabbi Schneur Zalman being the youngest of them.
Rabbi Schneur Zalman himself told this story. The Maggid had called for him, along with his colleagues Rabbi Leib Cohen and Rabbi Zusia of Anipoli, asking, “Please tell me what occurred at the time I was sleeping.”
So Rabbi Schneur Zalman told him. A visitor had come to Mezeritch, one who had been a senior disciple of the Baal Shem Tov—the holy Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz. A strong difference of opinion divided the Maggid and Rabbi Pinchas. The Maggid taught all that he had received from the Baal Shem Tov openly, while Rabbi Pinchas was opposed to this practice, saying that such lofty matters must be treated with great caution.
That day, Rabbi Pinchas had found two sheets of paper tossed about by the wind in the courtyard. Upon them were written the teachings of the Maggid. To him this was an outrage, and he let that be known. When Rabbi Schneur Zalman saw how seriously Rabbi Pinchas was taking the matter, he responded to him with a parable:
There was once a mighty king who had an only son. When the king desired that his son rise in his stature of wisdom and might, he sent him to a remote island in a distant land. There he would study the natures of various plants and animals, and learn to hunt wild beasts and birds in dangerous places.
There came a day when the news reached the king that his son, still off in this distant island, had contracted a serious illness for which the doctors could find no cure. The king decreed that it be announced throughout his kingdom that any person who had knowledge of medicine or knew of any cure for this terrible disease should come immediately to his palace.
But all the great healers and distinguished sages said not a word, for none knew of any cure for this illness of the prince.
Until there came a day when a certain man arrived at the palace to inform the king that he had a tried and tested cure for the prince. Carrying out this cure, however, was not so simple. It relied upon a rare and precious gem. That gem needed to be found, and then crushed and ground as fine as the finest sand. Only then could it be administered to the prince, mixed with fine wine. Yet he guaranteed that upon drinking this concoction, the prince would be cured.
The king issued a command for all those who were expert in the field of gems to search for this special jewel among all the precious stones in the palace treasury, according to the description provided by this man.
So the experts gathered and examined all the royal gems, and to the joy of their hearts they managed to find just the precious jewel as described. There was just one problem: The jewel was the centerpiece of the king’s royal crown.
How could they rejoice? If the centerpiece of the king’s royal crown were to be removed, the crown would lose its beauty. Nevertheless, they were compelled to tell the king what they had found—and where.
To their surprise, when the king heard that they had found the precious gem that could save his only son’s life, he rejoiced greatly. He commanded that the gem be removed, crushed and ground, and rushed to his son to heal him.
Just at that moment, bad tidings arrived at the palace. The prince’s health had deteriorated to the point that his lips were locked tight. No food, not even liquids, could pass his lips.
Upon hearing this news, the sages who stood before the king immediately assumed that the king would halt the grinding of the precious gem. The beauty of his royal crown would be saved. And so you can imagine their surprise when they heard the proclamation of the king: “Rush to grind the gem and prepare the cure! It is worthwhile to grind the entire gem and pour the entire thing to waste on the chance that just a single drop may enter the mouth of my only son and he will be healed!”
The nobility, those who occupied the highest positions in the palace, were astonished at the king’s command. They advised him, “When at first the prince’s lips were open and he could accept some food or drink, then your sacrifice was reasonable. But now that his situation is extremely precarious, it is very doubtful he will ingest any of this concoction. On such a slim chance, is it truly worthwhile to to ruin the beauty of the king’s crown with which he was coronated on the day he first sat on his throne?”
But the king responded, “If, heaven forbid, my son does not live, what is the worth of my crown? And if my son is healed, then this will be the crown’s most magnificent glory: that my only son, who endangered his life to fulfill my command and rise in wisdom and might through great ordeals until he became deathly ill—with this crown jewel he was healed!”
When Rabbi Schneur Zalman completed his parable, Rabbi Pinchas began to laugh. He exclaimed, “What you say is right! You have provided a justification for this practice of teaching the inner secrets of Torah openly. How fortunate is the teacher who has such students!”
All this Rabbi Schneur Zalman related to the Maggid in brief. The Magid then told his student, “You saved me. For in my sleep, I saw that there was a great accusation against me in the heavens—against me and against the teachings of my master, the Baal Shem Tov. But then I saw that you were standing and arguing on my behalf, justifying my actions. Your words were accepted and you brought merit to my teachings and the teachings of our master, the Baal Shem Tov.”⬢
