In connection with 9th and 10th of Kislev, days that are connected with the Mitteler Rebbe, here is a story that has a connection with the Mitteler Rebbe:
One of the disciples of the holy Baal Shem Tov lived in great poverty. His house was decrepit, the clothing worn by his family were threadbare, and the food that he managed to put on the table was barely enough to keep body and soul together.
Now, poverty itself is a difficult enough trial for a person to endure (as our sages teach: poverty can cause one to lose his mind and become distanced from his Creator). However, this particular chosid was lucky enough to also be blessed with a nagging wife, and the two together (poverty and a nagging wife) are undoubtedly a winning combination.
To make matters worse, this righteous woman took it into her mind that her hapless husband should do no less than steal from his saintly teacher, the holy Baal Shem Tov himself! “Look”, she would harass him, day in and day out, “we are suffering such terrible want and deprivation, while your Rebbe, the Baal Shem Tov is enjoying great wealth. He even has a stable full of horses, while we don’t own a single creature. It’s only fair that you should take a horse from the Baal Shem Tov”!
The chosid was scandalized by the mere suggestion; - not only was theft (and any sin) completely out of the question for him, the suggestion to actually commit a crime against his saintly teacher made it all the more preposterous! But the daily dose of demeaning dictates from his wonderful wife began to take effect, and he began to consider to do the unthinkable, merely to free himself from her constant pestering which was already worse than death.
One day, he finally succumbed and decided to do the deed, and – like a man heading to the gallows - he set out in the dark of the night towards the property of the Baal Shem Tov. He still could not believe that this was happening, and he was fervently hoping that he would encounter some mishap en route, and would be unsuccessful in his mission.
In the meantime, earlier that day the holy Baal Shem Tov had called in his stable manager, and instructed him: “Tonight, I would like you to leave all the doors to the stables unlocked, and let none of the stable boys be in the vicinity the entire night.
Filled with trepidation (mainly over the act that he was contemplating), the trembling chosid (who had no idea how to carry out a theft in any case) approached the stable, and – lo and behold – all the doors were wide open! With the greatest ease (except for his shaking hands) he removed a horse, and quickly brought it to his own backyard, reporting with relief to his rebbitzen about the success of his mission.
However, rather than be of any use for them (they had no need for a horse to begin with), the horse merely proved to be another mouth to feed. If the poor chosid had no food to put on the table for his long-suffering family, you can be sure that he had nothing with which to feed the horse. So the hapless horse stood in the backyard of the chosid and starved.
After 3 days the Baal Shem Tov called the chosid into him and said: “Why should my horse stand in your backyard and starve, let it be returned to my stable, where it will once again be fed”. Needless to say, the chosid was only too happy to comply!
The Alter Rebbe once related the above story to his son, the Mitteler Rebbe, and the Mitteler Rebbe asked: “If the Baal Shem Tov ultimately wanted the horse returned, why did he have the doors left open to begin with?” The Alter Rebbe responded: “That you want to understand?! That is something that I would need to speak for three days and three nights straight to explain”!
R’ Shmuel Groinem (the Rashag), the mashpia in Tomchei Tmimim, once repeated the above story and commented: “From the question of the Mitteler Rebbe we can conclude that all the other details of the story were clear to him, and there was merely this detail for which he required clarification”.
We can perhaps add to that: From the comments of the Rashag we can infer that he didn’t understand any of the story (or many parts of it, at any rate). Yet, since we know that every story that we are told must serve as a lesson in our Yiddishkeit, I will be so bold as to try to unearth some of the lessons this story may contain.
We all are in possession of two distinct neshomos – souls – that are the source of the two distinct leanings in our lives. Our nefesh ho’Elokis, our G-dly soul, is the source of our yearning for spirituality, our search for a deeper connection with G-dliness. On the other hand, our nefesh habehamis – our animalistic soul – is at the root of all of our physical desires and mundane needs.
[In Greek Mythology there is a creature called a “Centaur” that was half man and half beast. It had the head and hands of a human and the body of a horse. Everything has a source in Torah, and indeed, according to Torah, we are partly human, the G-dly part of us that is called “Odom”, and partly beast].
It is easy for us to be agreeable to let our neshomo be the guide for all our G-dly activities, for our involvement in Torah and Mitzvos. After all, those activities are taking place on behalf of our neshomo, and it is her that we are trying to satisfy, so it’s only right that she should call the shots. However when it comes to the affairs of the body and the beast, our more mundane pursuits, here we think that the neshomo should mix out and mind its’ own business. It may be a great expert on matters of spirituality, but when it comes to making the most out of our sojourn in this world, then – we feel – it has nothing to contribute.
Imagine a mashpia calling in a bochur and taking him to task for sneaking out of seder and going to a baseball game. The mashpia tells the bochur how important kabolas ol is, how crucial it is to adhere strictly to the timetable of Yeshiva. He explains to the bochur, as well, how spiritually damaging it is to take part in such G-dless gatherings. He explains the strict prohibition against partaking in a moshav leitzim, and the damage it can do to his sensitive soul. “Besides”, the mashpia tells him, “that’s not a good way of enjoying yourself. It’s empty and meaningless. If you apply yourself properly to your learning, you’ll find that much more enjoyable and satisfying”. “Whoa there”, thinks the bochur, “you’re the mashpia, and are qualified to tell me what the Will of Hashem is and what is considered chassidish. But you are the last person that I would consider an authority on what is enjoyable and satisfying; - when it comes to those, we’re the experts, and you old men need to take a back seat”.
This was, in fact, the claim of Lovon in the week’s parsha: “The sheep are all mine”, Lovon said to Yaakov. He was saying ‘you may be the expert when it comes to learning and davening, when it comes to spiritual matters, but when we’re dealing with our material possessions and pursuits, then you should acknowledge your ignorance, and leave it to the (real) experts.
This was the approach of the chosid in the story (at the wise counsel of his wife). The beast, the horse, doesn’t belong by the Baal Shem Tov. The Baal Shem Tov is the expert when it comes to achieving the greatest level of deveikus to Elokus. But he shouldn’t be the one taking care of the horse. The horse is better served under the jurisdiction of those more attuned to its’ particular needs.
But this attitude is wrong. Not only is it wrong from the perspective of Yiddishkeit, in the goal of best performing the Will of Hashem, but – as the Baal Shem Tov pointed out to his follower – it is not in the best interests of the horse either.
When the horse is removed from the property and environment of the tzaddik, not only is that bad for the human being (who in his moment of weakness listened to the wrong voice inside of him), but it’s the worst thing possible for the horse. The poor horse is standing and starving because of the chosid following the dictates of his inner animal.
Because the best circumstance for the horse to be in is under the inimitable care of the holy Baal Shem Tov. Not only are we grooming our nefesh ho’Elokis when we devote more time to learning and davening better, but ultimately it’s the healthiest and most beneficial approach for our animalistic aspects as well.
The best place for our beast to be is in the barn of the tzaddik, the Rebbe. For when we delegate all of our day, our entire behavior and every aspect of our conduct to the loving guidance of the Rebbe, not only are we benefiting our neshomo, but we are also ensuring the health and welfare of our horse!
So, if you want to enjoy life to its fullest and take good care of your beast, then there is only one way to go about it: - to learn, daven and serve the Eibishter. Your horse will be well fed and satisfied, and together you will be able to successfully journey to your ultimate destination!
L’chaim! May we all take proper care of our “horses”, by making sure all of their day is lived in the atmosphere, and according to the wishes of, the Rebbe. And may the Eibishter in turn take care of His horses (all the Kings horses and all the Kings men) by feeding them the ultimate nourishment; - the revelation of G-dliness, through the immediate hisgalus of Melech haMoshiach TUMYM!!!
Rabbi Akiva Wagner
