Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech Shapira of Dinov (Dynów, Poland) was born in 5543 (1783) to his father, Rabbi Pesach Langsam, a descendant of Rabbi Shimshon of Ostropolye, and to his mother, Rachel Mina, a niece of Rebbe Elimelech of Lizhensk and Rebbe Zusha of Anipoli. Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech married Rebbetzin Chana Mindel, daughter of Rabbi Shmuel of Tchitch (Czudec, Poland). He was a disciple of the Seer of Lublin and Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Rimanov, and later of the Maggid of Kozhnitz and the Ohev Yisrael (Rebbe Avraham Yehoshua Heshel) of Apta. He had close connections with the disciples of the Seer of Lublin's study hall, particularly Rebbe Naftali Tzvi of Ropshitz and Rabbi Tzvi Hirsh of Ziditchov. He served as rabbi in many towns, worked to spread the teachings of Kabbalah, and fought fiercely against the followers of the so-called Enlightenment. His renowned work is the book, Bnai Yissachar. He passed away in Dinov on the 18th of Tevet, 5601 (1841) at the age of 58, leaving three sons and three daughters. His son Rabbi David filled his place in Dinov.
A certain woman used to come regularly to the Bnei Yissachar to pour out her troubles and ask for the tzaddik's blessing, which he would bestow upon her with abundance. After his passing, the woman began to travel to the Tzemach Tzaddik, Rebbe Menachem Mendel of Vizhnitz.
When she arrived for the first time at the Tzemach Tzaddik and presented him with her kvittel and pidyon (note with request and monetary offering), the tzaddik blessed her with all good things. The woman said, "Ah, this is not like the previous Rebbe...." The tzaddik asked her what she meant, and she told him, "With the previous Rebbe, everything I asked of him, he wrote in his notebook!"
It is known that tzaddikim said about the Bnai Yissachar that he had two brains, and therefore he could write Torah innovations while simultaneously speaking with people and listening attentively to their requests. The woman, who saw him listening attentively while writing in his notebook, was sure that he was recording her words. Once there was even an incident where a woman came to him again after a long time. She reminded him of her previous words and asked, "Would the Rebbe please look in his notebook, where he wrote when I was here last time."
The Rebbe of Sanz-Klausenburg related: I heard from the elders of our city (Munkatch), when the Bnei Yissachar was the head of the rabbinical court in the city and district, one of his followers brought him a prescription written for a sick person by the local doctor. The man came to the Bnai Yissachar to ask whether his relative should take the medicine. The tzaddik examined the prescription and replied, "It still lacks one of the medicinal ingredients that needs to be mixed in." The chasid told this to the doctor, and upon hearing this, the doctor remembered that indeed he had forgotten to include an essential ingredient in the prescription. Shocked and amazed, the doctor ran to the study hall and found Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech after prayer. The doctor asked him, "Please tell me, Rebbe, how did you know that I had omitted an ingredient in the medicine?" The doctor could not understand in any way that the Bnei Yissachar knew this through Divine inspiration. In fact, Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech once related that he had studied the wisdom of human anatomy from the books of the sages based on their discussion of man’s form. And when they asked him how he could prescribe medicine to the sick who came to him, he replied, "This I know from when I make the blessing Asher Yatzar” [recited after relieving oneself ].
Why did the tzaddik call his book "Bnei Yissachar?" Once he asked his Rebbe, the Choizeh (the Seer) of Lublin, why he feels a special illumination during the days of Chanukah. The Choizeh answered him that the source of his soul is from the tribe of Yissachar, and as a son of the tribe of Torah scholars, he sat in the court that established the festival of Chanukah and its commandments. The sons of the tribe of Yissachar were known for their special sense for the secret of intercalation and setting the calendar, as it says in Chronicles, “And among the children of Yissachar, men that had understanding of the times.” The Bnai Yissachar also engaged in astronomy, and even wrote a book on this wisdom, but there is an additional layer here: the unification between the sun and the moon embodied in the Jewish calendar appears in the story in the tzaddik's ability to simultaneously grasp lofty Torah innovations, represented by the sun, and the troubles of simple Jews, represented by the moon.
In the second story too, the Bnai Yissachar is able to maintain a hold on two issues simultaneously: on the one hand, he is a tzaddik, innovating Torah insights and leading a congregation. On the other hand, he is a doctor, astronomer, and expert in anatomy. This uniqueness invites us to contemplate a challenging question once posed by the Mishnaic sage Plimo in the study hall of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi: What is the ruling for a person with two heads? Is he obligated to put tefillin on both heads? We will not elaborate on Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi’s harsh response to the question, nor on the explanation of his dispute with Plimo.
Here we will only say that the two heads represent two perspectives on reality: the first is supernal consciousness, according to which “there is nothing besides God.” And the second is lower consciousness, which recognizes the world as a creation that feels itself to be separate from God but still nullifies itself to the Divine source that brings it into being, something from nothing, at every moment.
According to the Arizal, Plimo was the reincarnation of Laban, Jacob’s father-in-law and Naval the Carmelite. In light of this, Plimo seeks to rectify the possessiveness and pride that characterized these two Biblical figure by insisting on the existence and importance of reality, and in his stubbornness that it is possible, and even desirable, to hold both perspectives together: to perceive reality as a significant “other” relating to its Creator from without, while at the same time maintaining an honest relationship with the Creator, one that is full of humility and self-nullification.
Duality
When speaking of a double head in one person, it is impossible not to recall the Tanya, which emphasizes the battle between two souls in every person. Indeed, besides the great admiration the Bnai Yissachar held for the Tanya, he also strongly supported its words about the qualifications needed to successfully elevate “improper thoughts.” Although many Polish tzaddikim (including Rebbe Tzvi Elimelech's own teachers!) did believe the elevation of such thoughts to be relevant for every individual, the Bnai Yissachar argued that the Alter Rebbe, author of the Tanya, was correct, and as long as the battle of souls is ongoing within a person, he cannot elevate his foreign thoughts.
The Bnei Yissachar also demanded a double head in Torah study: He interprets the verse “Then you will return and discern... between him who serves God and him who does not serve Him” as addressing scholars of Torah. One who serves God is one who studies both the Talmud and the Zohar, while one who does not serve Him studies only the Talmud.
The dualistic approach adopted by the Bnei Yissachar in these and other matters is reflected even in the pronunciation of his name. While the common custom is to pronounce his name, Yisachar, the Rebbe used to articulate both the sinn letters as, Yisaschar. By way of allusion, it is customary to interpret that one sinn belongs to this world and the other to the World to Come, which is why only one is pronounced in our present reality. But we offer an alternate interpretation: the two sinn’s allude to two types of understanding known as the Supernal Mother (אימא עילאה) and Comprehension (תבונה).
The higher understanding, Supernal Mother, is included in wisdom (it is actually the understanding within wisdom), represents the ability to innovate deep Torah insights in Kabbalistic secrets. This is indeed an understanding more relevant to the World to Come where one rises above bodily needs. No less important, however, is the lower understanding, comprehension, which descends to the depths of the heart, to advise a person in his sorrow: “Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water, but a man of comprehension will draw it out.”
Though this certainly pertains to our present reality, comprehension is similar to higher understanding because it too seeks to reveal that which is concealed, as it were, illuminating the present with the precious light of the depths of the heart.
