With great enthusiasm and excitement. At the beginning of 5586 (1825), he was arrested along with the Mitteler Rebbe due to slander by opponents of Chabad and on the first of Kislev, he was released. He authored the books Sha'arei Avodah and Sha'arei Yichud VeEmunah on the Tanya, and more. His teachings on the weekly Torah portions and festivals were collected in the book Avodat HaLevi. Several of his melodies were preserved in Chabad tradition. He departed this world while in devout prayer on Shemini Atzeret 5589 (1828) in his city of Strashelye.
In the year 5605 (1845), two great chasidim, Rabbi Moshe, son-in-law of Reb Ze’ev Tzipes and Rabbi Yisrael Yosef, traveled to the grave of their Rebbe, the holy Admur of Strashelye. As they passed through the town of Kopust, not far from Strashelye, they made a stop. As they stood by their wagon stood in the street, a simple man approached them, dressed in a short pelt and a red sash, and asked where they were going. They told him their destination was Strashelye. The man said, “Take me also with you.” Rabbi Moshe wondered about him and asked, “What does a man like you have to do at our Rebbe’s grave? Did you even know him?”
The man answered, “Why do I want to go to his grave!? Because he saved my life, rescued me from death, and brought me out from the depths of the kelipot (forces of impurity). It has been seventeen years since his passing. What interest do you young people have in travelling to his grave?”
When the two heard his words, they implored him to tell them how their Rebbe had saved him. But he refused, until Rabbi Yisrael Yosef grabbed him and said, “By my life, I will not let you go until you tell us everything that happened to you with our Rebbe.”
When the man saw this, he said: “Perhaps it has been decreed from Heaven that I should reveal to you today what I have never told anyone else. Listen and hear.
In my youth, right after my wedding, we lived with my father-in-law in a village near Shklov. My father-in-law rented an old inn that had been uninhabited for eight years. When we intended to move in, all sorts of rituals were performed there, as old wives would call them. A little distance from the inn house stood an old barn that was considered haunted, and everyone was careful not to pass before it, even during the day.
I was a scholar of Torah at the time and did not engage in commerce at all. One time, my father-in-law was not home all week and did not return even for Shabbat. That Saturday night, I smoked a pipe and went out to walk alone, until I passed in front of the barn. Suddenly, a black dog came out, circled me three times, barked at me, and ran back to the barn. I was very frightened and with my strength failing me hardly made it back into the house. There they treated with me with herbs to revive me and to try and free me from the fear that had set in.
In this manner, the night passed, until I lay down to sleep. When I fell asleep, immediately it entered my imagination that two men were coming to me. One was German, dressed in royal garments, and the other was limping on one leg. They took me by the hands and brought me to a place where an enormous and frightening army stood. The two looked like kings in my imagination, each at the head of his army. Between them a map of the countryside was spread and they taught me the wisdom of map reading. Believe me, more than twenty years have passed since then, and still if I were to see their faces today, I would recognize them by name and know the exact layout of the map.
This repeated every night. Knowing that I was trapped in a fantasy world, sometimes my family lit candles, and my wife sat by my side all night, but to no avail. When I woke up from sleep, my shirt was so soaked with sweat that you could wring water from it. During the days, I was weak and ill. On the following nights, the kings (as I had come to call them) themselves did not come, only their emissaries, and every night they taught me a different skill: sometimes how to ride a horse, sometimes how to carry loads, sometimes how to draw and shoot a bow. If I did not meet their expectations, they would beat me harshly. All the rituals and remedies I tried to break out of this fantasy world did not help, I even turned to sorcerers, but they too could do nothing to help me. Months passed with me locked in this fantasy world. I began to grow accustomed to it and even found joy in the work I was assigned to do there; I was quite quick in performing my duties there. But during the daytime hours, when I was not in that world, I withered and was sick from the intense night labor.
My father-in-law and my father were simple people, they never traveled to rebbes. But when they saw how weakened I had become and that my appearance had deteriorated, they said to me, “You must go to Strashelye.” I set out for Strashelye in the evening. Surprisingly, that night on my journey, I had no experience of the fantasy world. I began to entertain the thought that it was traveling that had helped me and so I turned the horse back from the long road ahead and wanted to return to my father. But on the second night, the kings appeared again and treated me as they had in my home. It was only then that I understood that what the fantasy world and its inhabitants feared was Strashelye, and so I decided to once again turn around and resume my journey.
The day I arrived was a non-working day and all the chasidim and great rabbis were in the large house of our rebbe, Rebbe Aharon of Strashelye. Rabbi Avraham Sheines of Shklov and the rabbis of Dubrovna and many others were waiting for our rebbe to come out of his room. I poured out my bitter heart before Ber, our rebbe’s attendant. I gave him a gift, and he brought me into the room. When I entered, our rebbe was just removing his Rabbeinu Tam tefillin. I approached him as he was smoking his pipe. He looked at me and asked, “What do you want? What are you seeking?” I told him everything.
When I finished, I raised my eyes and saw that his face was burning like torches. The pipe fell from his hand, and he rose from his chair, running back and forth in the room, rubbing his forehead vigorously with his right hand, calling out, “Vi kumt a pgam tzu a neshamah?” (How does a blemish reach the soul?!). When I saw his anguish, I wept bitterly from the sorrow in my heart. There was no one in the room but us. I saw him rubbing his forehead so hard that his blood was about to spatter on the wall. He circled like this for about ten or fifteen minutes.
Afterwards, he approached me and asked, “Do you say Shema Yisrael?” I answered through my tears, “Yes.” The rebbe asked, “Do you understand its meaning?” Then our rebbe explained to me the meaning of the word “one” [in “God is one”] in such simple language that it established faith in my heart that God is one and His kingdom is everywhere. These words are engraved in me to this day, as if I had heard them just yesterday. Then he gave me rituals to perform (which I will not reveal). He instructed me to read from a holy book before sleep. And he told me, “Review the things I tell you all day until they are fluent in your mouth even at night.” He also instructed me to say to the destructive forces when they come: “Der rebbe hat gezogt ihr zolt mich nit tchefen. Der Rebbe hat gezogt ihr vet haben a psak oyb ihr vet mich tchefen” (The Rebbe said you should not bother me. The Rebbe said you will be judged if you bother me).
Afterwards, he comforted me and said that they would not frighten me anymore. Outside, the chasidim and rabbis were already waiting, wondering why our rebbe was delayed. Our rebbe sensed this, opened the door, and signaled for them to go. Everyone was amazed at his long conversation with me. When I came out, they wanted to know what he had spoken with me about, but I did not reveal the content of our conversation.
When I returned home, I did everything our rebbe commanded. At night, I lay down to sleep after reading from Ein Yaakov [an anthology from the Talmud]. As I dozed off, I saw again in a vision the two men from the first time, not their messengers this time. They stood far away, motioning for me to come with them. I told them the rebbe’s words. The German, who always looked like a good person, immediately retreated and said nothing. The lame one stomped his foot, gnashed his teeth, and shouted, “Who is the rebbe that I should listen to him?!”
I repeated our rebbe’s words again, and they stood far away, afraid to approach, for about a quarter of an hour. Then they tried to speak to me in a kind tone. They promised to make me a king of nightmares, and many other things. But I repeated our rebbe’s words again and again. Finally, they became angry and made a commotion, knocking on the house door until everyone in the house heard, and then disappeared. I awoke to the sound of knocking and told my family that there was nothing more to fear.
[From Shivchei HaRav]
