ARTLESS DEVOTION
When Moshiach comes, the lofty value of the simplicity and artless devotion of the common folk who daven and recite Tehillim with heartfelt sincerity will become apparent.
(היום יום כ"ד אייר)
The Baal Shem Tov once invited his talmidim: “Come with me and we will learn a lesson about how to love HaShem.” He led them to a large field where a young shepherd was tending his flock. Spontaneously, the shepherd called out, “Master of the world, I love you!" He then questioned aloud, "How shall I serve you?" And he answered his own question: "I will dance for you!” And with that, he broke into a long and joyful dance.
A short while later he called out again, “Master of the world, I love you! What shall I do for you? I will jump back and forth over this little pond for you!” And so, he repeatedly jumped over the pond out of his love for HaShem.
After some time, he once again called out, “Master of the world! What can I offer you? Here, I have a coin in my pocket and I will give it to you.” He took the coin and cast it heavenward.
Some tell that the coin never descended.
(רשימו"ד חדש ע' 49)
In the Baal Shem Tov’s time a certain Jewish community was under a decree of destruction issued by the Heavenly Court. The Baal Shem Tov summoned two of his colleagues, hidden tzaddikim named Reb Mordechai and Reb Kehos, to join him in constituting a beis din, to consider how to nullify the decree.
However, when the Baal Shem Tov experienced aliyas haneshama, he learned that the decree was final and not to be annulled. Returning past the chambers of Gan Eden, he passed a chamber that shone with unusual brilliance. This was the chamber of a villager who said all of Tehillim five times every day, and the words of his Tehillim sparkled.
The Baal Shem Tov traveled to the home of this villager and said to him, “If you knew that by sacrificing your share in the World to Come you could save a Jewish community, what would you do?”
“If I have any share in the World to Come, I give it up,” was his prompt response. The decree was annulled.
It had been the custom of this villager to say Tehillim always, incessantly. While chopping wood he kept reciting Tehillim, and so too while doing any work. It is quite conceivable that he wasn’t scrupulous about his immediate environment, even saying Tehillim where one should not, since he was uneducated. But he didn’t know the din and his intentions were pure, so his Tehillim was effective.
(סה"ש תרצ"ז ע' 203)
HEARTFELT BLUNDERS
The Baal Shem tov showed that a ben Torah should be shamefaced in the presence of the ordinary, unlearned Yidden who mispronounce their davening, for their artless temimus is immeasurably superior to that of a learned person.
(סה"ש תש"ב ע' 8)
The Midrash records a teaching of Rav Acha: "Even if instead of saying ve’ahavta ("and you shall love"), an illiterate davener says ve’ayavta (“and you should hate”), his error is loved by HaShem since it comes from a pure heart."
(שהש"ר ב, ד)
The 12th-century ethical mentor, Rebbi Yehuda HaChassid, writes in his Sefer Chassidim:
Do not be surprised that HaShem also accepts the prayers of those who mispronounce words of davening. For He seeks integrity: He only asks that a person's heart be sincere with Him, and since he can't do better, HaShem considers it as if he did. That person's tefillos and songs of praise are as acceptable Above as a korbon, and bring HaShem great joy.
Indeed, there was once a not-very-learned kohen who during the Priestly Blessing, instead of saying veyishmerecha ("and may He protect you"), said veyishmedecha ("and may He destroy you," R"L). A certain scholar had him step down from his place, but was soon shown from Heaven that if he did not reinstate that kohen, he would be punished.
(ספר חסידים סי' יח)
Rebbi Akiva once heard someone reciting Shema but he mispronounced the last word slightly: instead of saying echad, which means that HaShem is "one," he said acher, which means that there is "another." When Rebbi Akiva explained the distorted meaning of his pronunciation, the poor fellow was in a dilemma. He couldn't continue with his pronunciation and couldn't master the proper one, so he simply stopped saying Shema. This diminished the delight he aroused Above, the pleasure in his original way of saying Shema – because his intention was so pure.
(סה"ש תרצ"ז ע' 204)
There was once a simple, unlettered fellow who would recite just three of the morning brachos – “shelo asani goy”, “shelo asani eved”, and “shelo asani isha” – with exceptional excitement and concentration.
Now, the word shelo in the bracha is of course written with an alef (שלא), which means “that He did not.” However, this fellow translated them as if they were written with a vov (שלו), meaning “to Him.”
So, when he was prompted for an explanation, he said, “These brachos thank HaShem for having chosen us. In the first bracha we thank Him for having made us His nation (goy); in the second, for making us His servants (eved); and in the third, we thank Him for giving us the fire (isheh) with which to serve Him...”
(רשימו"ד חדש ע' 306)
CONSIDER
Why does a simpleton have more sincerity than a scholar? What can a scholar do?
If mispronounced words are just as beloved before HaShem, does that mean that the correct pronunciation is insignificant?
