Episode 37: The Match Between Rabbi Moshe and Baruch the Batlan

00:01 In the course of the story of Rabbi Moshe and Rabbi Baruch, who represent two different approaches—Rabbi Moshe’s opposition to the teachings of Kabbalah, and Rabbi Baruch’s study of them—we come to several other stories as well. Rabbi Baruch was also a chossid of Rabbi Yoel Baal Shem of Zamość. Now, in those days, the elderly gaon Rabbi Yonah Shmuel the Porush fell ill. All of Poznań spoke about his illness, for the gaon was well known in the city and beloved by its residents. Rabbi Yonah Shmuel had once been a friend of the gaon Rabbi Asher Yonasan, Rabbi Moshe’s teacher and the head of the Poznań community. He did not have extraordinary gifts, but he was exceptionally diligent; in his devotion and perseverance, he had no equal. From early childhood he sat and studied Torah day and night. He never spoke of mundane matters or wasted a moment, and everyone called him “the Porush” even when he was a child. When he grew old, he left his home entirely and took up residence in the beis midrash on Portuguese Street, not far from the home of Rabbi Baruch Batlan. From then on, he never left its walls. When he became ill and could no longer stand, people wanted to move him to a house where he could have a comfortable bed and proper care. But Rabbi Yonah Shmuel refused. He lay on a bench in one of the rooms by the entrance to the beis midrash, and the young married scholars who studied there cared for him. Even as he lay ill on the bench, Rabbi Yonah Shmuel did not stop learning Torah. But he grew steadily weaker, until he could no longer study with his usual diligence. This distressed him greatly. So from time to time he would call over someone studying in the beis midrash and ask him to learn nearby, so that by listening he could remain

03:01 within the four cubits of Torah. Among those studying in the beis midrash were Kadish, the son of Tzvia, whom we have already met, and Binyamin, the son of Rabbi Baruch Batlan. All the students, including those two, took turns sitting beside the sick man, so that the ailing Porush could listen to words of Torah at all times. Rabbi Yonah Shmuel did not merely listen. From time to time, he would offer insights into the Torah discussion—questions and answers of his own or of his teacher’s—to the great delight of the young men sitting and learning beside him. Distinguished visitors often came to see the ailing Porush and fulfill the mitzvah of visiting the sick. Among them was Rabbi Moshe, the head of the community. The visitors would listen to the Torah thoughts Rabbi Yonah Shmuel shared with the young men sitting beside him. Once, during one of Rabbi Moshe’s visits, he noticed that the sick man was greatly stirred. What had happened? Rabbi Yonah Shmuel was engaged in a scholarly debate with one of the young men, while many of those in the beis midrash gathered around to listen. Rabbi Moshe took an interest in their discussion. The ailing Rabbi Yonah Shmuel astonished those present with his sharpness and breadth of knowledge, and the debate went on for a long time. For three hours, Rabbi Yonah Shmuel and the young man argued back and forth. Who was the young man? It was Kadish, Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s nephew. Rabbi Moshe and other scholars there were also drawn into the heat of the Torah debate. But this time, the debate ended in a victory for Kadish, the young man. In the end, everyone agreed with him. Until then, Rabbi Moshe had not known Kadish, who was only nineteen years old. He looked at Kadish in amazement. Never had he seen such knowledge and sharpness in someone so young—enough to prevail over the great gaon. More than anything, Rabbi

05:47 Moshe was impressed by Kadish’s character. Throughout the debate, Kadish behaved with composure and peace of mind, speaking thoughtfully and with restraint. Even after winning the debate, he showed no sign of pride. He returned to his place and immersed himself in his Gemara study again, as though nothing had happened. Rabbi Moshe became very interested in the young man and learned that he was Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s orphaned nephew. A few days later, Rabbi Moshe again visited Rabbi Yonah Shmuel the Porush. The Porush was now very weak and could barely take part in the learning of the young scholars beside him. But Rabbi Moshe had another purpose in coming this time. He approached Kadish, who was learning with his cousin Binyamin, Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s son. They were debating a particular Talmudic topic, and Rabbi Moshe joined in. Both young men amazed him with their knowledge. Rabbi Moshe visited the beis midrash several more times, each time discussing Torah with Kadish and Binyamin. They had truly caught his attention. So one day, Reb Moshe told his wife Sarah that the time had come to think about a shidduch for their only daughter, Freidel. As far as Reb Moshe was concerned, there were two possible candidates: Kadish and Binyamin. He liked them both very much. But he had an unspoken concern about Binyamin: he was Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s son. True, Rabbi Moshe knew Baruch Batlan well and even admired him. He knew that Baruch possessed both Torah learning and distinction. But after all, he was a chossid of Rabbi Yoel Baal Shem of Zamość, whom Rabbi Moshe did not hold in high regard. What was more, Rabbi Moshe opposed the path of Kabbalah. How could he marry his daughter to the son of a man like that? Kadish was different. His late father had indeed followed the path

08:28 of Kabbalah and lived in the kabbalists’ settlement of Eretz Hachaim. Kadish’s father was also Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s brother. But he had not gone as far as Rabbi Baruch had. Rabbi Moshe also knew that Kadish himself leaned toward the path of Kabbalah, but he told himself that the young man could surely still be influenced. Rabbi Moshe hoped that once Kadish was living at his table, he would certainly change. For all these reasons, Rabbi Moshe decided to prefer Kadish over Binyamin. Sarah agreed with her husband’s decision and added that she knew Tzvia the seamstress, Kadish’s mother, very well, and that she was a truly righteous woman. But she told Rabbi Moshe, “My husband, don’t think Kadish will live on meals at your table. I know very well that the young man intends to follow his own path in life. He also has no intention of leaving his widowed mother’s home. And besides,” she told her husband, Rabbi Moshe, “Tzvia earns a comfortable living from her work and does not need your help supporting the couple.” But none of this changed the decision. Within a few months, the engagement of Kadish, the only son of the widow Tzvia, to Freidel, the only daughter of Rabbi Moshe and Sarah, was celebrated. Rabbi Moshe promised a large dowry. It was also agreed that the couple would live in Tzvia’s home, and instead of providing them with meals at his table, Rabbi Moshe gave the couple a large sum that would support them for many years. Freidel, who had learned to sew, helped her mother-in-law with her work. Kadish continued to study Torah diligently and, for a time, went on learning with his cousin Binyamin as before. But the time came for Binyamin to marry as well. Many people wondered aloud what extraordinary shidduch awaited Rabbi Baruch Batlan’s son. A scholar so learned and wealthy, and from such a family, could surely find the very best match. Many matchmakers knocked on Rabbi Baruch’s door, one leaving as another entered. Matchmakers even came from far away,

11:28 For Binyamin’s reputation had spread far and wide. But Rabbi Baruch refused to consider any of the proposals. He wanted to hear the opinion of his teacher, Rabbi Yoel of Zamotsh[?], and made a special trip to see him. Then, on Rabbi Yoel’s advice, Rabbi Baruch arranged a match between his son and the daughter of Rabbi Aharon, a poor teacher who was one of Rabbi Yoel’s students. When the news reached Pozna, the whole community was in an uproar. Such an impressive young man, from such a distinguished family, matched with the daughter of a poor schoolteacher! True, Rabbi Aharon was known as an expert teacher, but he was nevertheless desperately poor. He could have taken the children of the wealthiest families into his school and charged high fees. Everyone wanted to entrust their children’s education to him, for he was remarkably successful in his holy work—not only in teaching Torah, but also in planting good character traits in his students’ hearts. But Rabbi Aharon had an unusual order of priorities. First he took the children of the very poorest families. If there was room left, he took children from families of modest means. Only the last place or two went to children of the wealthy. Naturally, terrible poverty prevailed in Rabbi Aharon’s home. If not for the help of his wife, who worked as a midwife and cooked at weddings, they would have had no bread. Besides this, all his children had died during his lifetime; only his one daughter remained. Rabbi Aharon was also exceedingly humble, even from his youth. It seemed that he had devoted his entire life to one task alone: teaching Torah to Jewish children and educating them in Torah and good deeds. So great was his humility that when everyone in town congratulated him on the golden match he had made for his daughter, Rabbi Aharon lowered his head and gave a brief reply, as though nothing had happened. The Jews of Pozna therefore had reason to talk about him

14:27 or discuss him at length, but more surprises awaited them in this very matter.