Chapter 63: Avraham Yitzchok Comforts Shlomo the Baker

00:01 We continue the story of Shimshon Eliyahu, who took his close friend Reb Moishe as his personal assistant. In truth, Reb Moishe was Shimshon Eliyahu’s guide and the one who corrected him. Shimshon Eliyahu wanted Reb Moishe, above all, to watch his conduct, point out any failings, and insist that he correct them. Moishe came to this role for a particular reason. Though blessed with wealth, stature, and honor, Shimshon Eliyahu had, for a time, no surviving children. The children his wife bore him, may we be spared, died shortly after birth. This caused him great pain, and once he confided his sorrow to Reb Moishe. Reb Moishe said to him, “Could Hakadosh Boruch Hu pass judgment without justice?” He explained to his employer that he needed to examine himself, find anything he had done wrong, and correct it. Someone else in Shimshon Eliyahu’s position might have been angry at being admonished: how could a wealthy man, so charitable and of such good character, be considered a sinner? But Shimshon Eliyahu told Moishe he was willing to take his advice. He immediately let Moishe into his private affairs so that he could help examine his actions and find where he had gone wrong. Shimshon Eliyahu did everything Moishe instructed him to do, and so the son born to him afterward survived. That son was Yaakov Isaac, his only child. Now, while Yaakov Isaac was studying with Reb Naftali, Shimshon Eliyahu saw that Naftali Zev was not having the desired influence on his son’s character. He discussed it with his friend Moishe. Reb Moishe felt that it was no longer possible to change Yaakov Isaac’s ways. Perhaps it was his teacher’s influence, or perhaps it was his nature; he said that time might change him. When Yaakov

02:57 Isaac grew up, Shimshon Eliyahu brought him into his business and gradually turned it over to him entirely. Shimshon Eliyahu himself devoted his life to serving the community. Fifty years after settling in Binovitch, Shimshon Eliyahu passed away, and his son Yaakov Isaac took his place as manager of the count’s estates. Yaakov Isaac set aside time for Torah study, not only on his own but with others. He established a public class that he taught himself. He also had a say in communal affairs in Binovitch, but he was not like his father. He did not befriend ordinary or poor people; on the contrary, he looked down on them. Even when he gave tzedakah, he did not do so with the warmth his father had shown, but as someone merely fulfilling an obligation. Twenty years later, a dispute arose among Count Lipschitz’s heirs. Yaakov Isaac saw that, in the end, he would not be able to manage the estates properly, and decided to step aside while there was still time. He gathered all the heirs and, under government supervision, handed over their property to them in full and in good order. Yaakov Isaac then went into commerce. He began trading in flax and was very successful, with the help of his three sons. He himself remained a respected householder in Binovitch and was generally the one whose opinion prevailed. Yet he never wanted to accept an official position or title. “I have the say anyway,” he would remark. “Let the honors go to those who have time for them.” Everyone in Binovitch knew that Yaakov Isaac wanted his opinion to prevail even in matters of Torah. No one dared argue with him, and when someone did—even the greatest scholar—Yaakov Isaac would respond by belittling him. It was therefore no surprise that the respected Yaakov Isaac seized on the fact that Shlomo the baker had interrupted his prayers to be called up to the Torah. For Yaakov Isaac, as for the other mockers in the beis midrash, it was an opportunity to make fun of the simple baker

05:41 and cause him pain. Baruch, who was standing there, was stunned. “Do you know what you’ve done?” Yaakov Isaac shouted at Shlomo the baker. “You have disgraced the Torah. You recited a blessing in vain. You have desecrated Hashem’s name.” Shlomo writhed in pain at Yaakov Isaac’s rebuke. Tears filled his eyes. He began pleading with Yaakov Isaac to have mercy on him and show him how to do teshuvah. “You must fast on Monday, Thursday, and Monday,” Yaakov Isaac ruled with a mocking smile. Shlomo the baker was certainly willing to fast on Monday, Thursday, and Monday to atone for the sin of interrupting his prayers to be called up to the Torah. He immediately said, “I’ll begin fasting today,” so as not to delay his teshuvah. This gave Yaakov Isaac another chance to torment the baker. “Ignoramus!” he cried. “Surely you know that a private fast must be accepted in advance during Minchah the day before.” Shlomo’s face changed color. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and tears gathered in his eyes. He stood there like an accused man while the mockers around him delighted in it. And Yaakov Isaac continued his attack: “It’s a disgrace to our town to have such ignoramuses in it.” Baruch watched the scene and felt deep pity for the poor baker. When Yaakov Isaac and his companions had had their fill of mocking the baker and dispersed, Shlomo remained in the beis midrash, dejected and humiliated. Baruch was wondering whether to approach and comfort him, but Avraham Yitzchak, the third son-in-law of Mordechai the miller, got there first. Avraham Yitzchak approached Shlomo and spoke to him with friendship and sympathy. “Please don’t be upset,” he said warmly. “You committed no sin by going up to the Torah. I noticed that you were between Yishtabach and Yotzer Or in your prayers, and according to all opinions, one may interrupt at that point.” Those words, spoken from a loving heart, moved

08:38 Shlomo, and tears began streaming from his eyes. “Why are you crying?” Avraham Yitzchak asked him. Shlomo told him that this reminded him of something that had happened in his youth and stirred memories of the past connected to the course of his life. Out of affection and closeness to the simple craftsman, Avraham Yitzchak very much wanted to hear about it, and Shlomo told him. It turned out that Shlomo came from a distinguished family. His father was a well-known teacher in Vitebsk, renowned for his Torah learning and fear of Heaven. Every morning his father would pray with the early minyan at the [unclear] synagogue. When Shlomo was ten, his father began taking him along to that minyan to train him to pray there. Once, when Shlomo was twelve, he looked out the window in the middle of his prayers and became so absorbed in thinking about what was happening in the street that he completely forgot he was praying with the congregation. When he came back to himself, he had to skip most of the prayers to catch up with them. A few days later, Shlomo’s conscience began to trouble him over having simply missed one of the prayers. He felt he had sinned, so he decided to tell his father what he had done and ask him how to repent and make amends. But he immediately abandoned the idea, thinking that he would commit a more serious sin if he did so, since it would cause his father pain. Still, he thought to himself that he had not yet reached the age of bar mitzvah, so the sin was not quite so grave. In the end, he decided that from then on he would make sure to read every word of the prayers, from “Mah Tovu” to “Aleinu,” from the siddur without lifting his head. That way he could be certain such a mishap would never happen again. From then on, Shlomo guarded himself against a similar failing throughout his life. Avraham Yitzchak also learned that Shlomo could, in fact, have become a Torah scholar. His father had studied a great deal with him, but when Shlomo was a boy of

11:12 When he was fourteen, his father became gravely ill. For a year he was confined to his bed, until he passed away. The burden of supporting the family fell on his mother and on him, the eldest son, so Shlomo had to become a baker’s apprentice to help provide for the household. Later, his mother also fell ill, and Shlomo became the sole breadwinner. He carried the entire burden of the household himself, sending his younger brothers to yeshiva and helping find matches for his sisters. He married the daughter of a Jew from a village and continued to work hard all his life to earn his bread. In truth, Shlomo had not forgotten the passages of Gemara he had learned in his youth, and from time to time he returned to studying Gemara, though he devoted himself more to davening and saying Tehillim. With great sorrow, Shlomo told Avraham Yitzchak that he had never had the opportunity to study the laws in Yoreh Deah of the Shulchan Aruch. For that reason, he was not well versed in laws such as those concerning interruptions during davening. Avraham Yitzchak was deeply moved by everything Shlomo told him. He assured him that his conduct was more precious in the eyes of Hakadosh Boruch Hu than the conduct of a Jew like Yaakov Isaac. He encouraged him so much that Shlomo the baker went home happy and comforted. Baruch noticed all this and was impressed by the warmth Avraham Yitzchak showed this simple Jew. He now wanted to know more about Avraham Yitzchak’s background, and learned the following. Avraham Yitzchak was born in Vitebsk. His father was named Dovid Leib and earned his living as a shoemaker. For a long time, Avraham Yitzchak himself thought his father was nothing more than a simple shoemaker. Dovid Leib, Avraham Yitzchak’s father, was from Minsk. He was the son of Rabbi Tzvi Aryeh, a dayan renowned for his learning and righteousness, so it was clear that Dovid Leib himself, Avraham Yitzchak’s father, was no

13:56 ignoramus. His father had also studied works of philosophy extensively, such as the Kuzari, Moreh Nevuchim, Sefer HaIkkarim, and others like them. From his youth, Dovid Leib too had a strong desire to study these books. But his father, Rabbi Tzvi Aryeh the dayan, explained that he was still too young for that and should first devote himself to studying Gemara and the halachic authorities. Dovid Leib followed his father’s guidance until he married the daughter of Rabbi Chaim, a wealthy Jew from Vitebsk. From then on, he was supported by his father-in-law for the eight years of support promised to him, as was customary at the time. While living on his father-in-law’s support, his desire to study works of philosophy reawakened. He was then twenty-two years old and felt ready for this study. As a result, he spent less time studying Gemara and the halachic authorities. Later, he began to be troubled by the thought that perhaps he was not doing the right thing by devoting himself to philosophy, a field that raised questions and doubts he could not resolve in every case. So Dovid Leib turned to studying works of mussar, and there he discovered a new world. These works made a deep impression on him and influenced him greatly. He stopped reading works of philosophy altogether and began taking on acts of self-denial and fasts, adopting a modest way of life so that others would know as little as possible about his virtues and good deeds. Even in his father-in-law’s home, they did not know how righteous he was. But his father-in-law and mother-in-law began to grumble that their son-in-law showed no inclination to start bearing the burden of earning a living. At first, they had thought Dovid Leib would become a rabbi. His mother-in-law often boasted of that prospect, especially when her brothers or [unclear], linen and leather merchants, teased her and her husband about having acquired such a good-for-nothing son-in-law.