Episode 80: Interesting Figures in the City of Dubromisl

00:01 Chaim Shimon and his battle against the arrogant. Whenever Chaim Shimon heard anyone, whoever it might be, say something that smacked of arrogance, he would seethe with anger. He would rebuke the person sharply and give him a scalding lecture that he would remember for a long time. There were often heated arguments. Not everyone was prepared to overlook Chaim Shimon’s words; after all, he was a young man. Many felt that the way he treated people older and more respected than himself was insolent and brazen. His father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef, also disapproved of Chaim Shimon’s behavior, even though they agreed on the underlying issue: he, too, could not tolerate arrogance. But he felt that young Chaim Shimon needed to restrain himself. So the two would argue from time to time, each citing teachings of our Sages. Chaim Shimon would calmly quote the teaching in Sanhedrin, 101b: “Rabbi Nachman said: The arrogance that Yeravam possessed drove him from the world.” This was the same Yeravam, Chaim Shimon argued, about whom the Gemara later says, on Sanhedrin 102a, concerning the verse in the Book of Kings, “Achiyah the Shilonite, the prophet, found him on the road, and he was wearing a new garment, and the two of them were alone in the field”: “Just as a new garment has no flaw, so Yeravam’s Torah had no flaw. Another interpretation: They originated teachings that no ear had ever heard. A third: All Torah scholars seemed to them like the grass of the field. And some say that all the reasons of the Torah were revealed to them in the field.” “Do you see where arrogance leads?” Chaim Shimon cried. All of Yeravam’s extraordinary greatness in Torah did not save him. He became a sinner who led the many to sin and was driven from the world—all because of arrogance and haughtiness. Chaim Shimon would demonstrate

02:54 from various teachings of our Sages that the Torah of an arrogant person becomes defiled, G-d forbid, by his arrogance. This trait is the source of every evil. “So,” Chaim Shimon would say, “how can one remain silent in the face of someone who defiles the Torah?” Despite all this, the elderly Rabbi Yosef and Chaim Shimon, his granddaughter’s husband, lived together in peace, notwithstanding their differences of opinion and arguments. Chaim Shimon was also well liked by everyone in Dobromysl. But all that lasted only until an incident at the bathhouse. As in other towns and cities, the bathhouse was an important institution in Dobromysl. During the week, they heated the boiler only enough to warm the mikveh water somewhat for those who immersed. On Wednesdays and Fridays, they heated it much more for bathing. Dobromysl’s bathhouse was distinguished by an oven Rabbi Yosef had built there in his youth. It produced excellent heat, but because the boiler was not very large, each bather was allotted five buckets of water. The townspeople therefore had to organize themselves into groups that bathed in turn, so that there would be sufficiently hot water for everyone. Each group had a fixed, limited time during the day in which to bathe. At that time, a Jew named Betzalel from Rassasna [unclear] was staying in Dobromysl. He was an elderly, renowned scholar who had come to stay at the home of Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel, a sofer STaM who was married to his granddaughter. Rabbi Betzalel had spent more than forty years learning Torah in seclusion. He was celebrated for his sharp mind, his broad knowledge, and his sincere fear of Heaven, and was especially known for the care he took with every word that left his mouth. Rabbi Betzalel was meticulous in his observance of mitzvos generally. He would frequently examine the passages in his tefillin and the mezuzos in his home with a magnifying glass, checking, among other things, that the letters were properly filled in with ink and had no white spots. Every day, before putting on tefillin, he measured

05:51 the squareness of both his arm and head tefillin with a special ruler, to make sure it had been preserved. He also had a regular attendant who checked that the tefillin were positioned precisely where they belonged. This attendant stood beside Rabbi Betzalel throughout his prayers to ensure that the tefillin did not shift. In addition, Rabbi Betzalel was very careful about the mitzvah of honoring Torah scholars. He observed it scrupulously and in the most exemplary manner, and insisted that others observe it properly as well. To give people the opportunity to fulfill this great mitzvah, he would make a point of publicizing his scholarship and righteousness, so that others would accord him the proper honor and thereby fulfill a positive commandment of the Torah. Indeed, Rabbi Betzalel, who was very advanced in years, received great honor in Dobromysl. When Friday arrived, he went to the bathhouse, where he was accorded great honor as well. A special place was cleared for him, and everyone stood when he entered. Chaim Shimon was also at the bathhouse then. Although he knew from the discussion in Kiddushin, 33b, that in the inner rooms of a bathhouse it is forbidden to speak words of Torah and there is no obligation to honor Torah scholars, he treated Rabbi Betzalel as the others did. He knew that, on the one hand, there was no prohibition against showing him honor. On the other, even if he wanted to, he could not explain to ordinary people why he had failed to show the proper honor—especially since doing so would entail speaking words of Torah in the bathhouse. Meanwhile, it became clear that hot water was running short. Some of the bathers loudly urged the bath attendant to heat the water faster and at least make sure that the righteous Rabbi Betzalel would not lack hot water. Two men chatting as they bathed began speaking about Rabbi Betzalel. “For forty years now,” one said to the other, “he has lived in seclusion.” Although Reb Betzalel was sitting some distance from the two men,

08:24 he heard their words. “That is not accurate,” he called out to them. “Not forty years, but forty-seven years I have lived in seclusion. And you should also know that since then, I have not looked beyond my four cubits.” When Rabbi Chaim Shimon heard Rabbi Betzalel’s comment, his blood boiled. Still, he restrained himself and said nothing. Later, when they were both dressed and in the outer room, Chaim Shimon turned to Rabbi Betzalel and said, “Rabbi, it seems that you do not care about the ruling of all the Tannaim, Amoraim, Geonim, and halachic authorities that arrogance is utterly forbidden and reprehensible. When you heard two Jews mention some of your praises, you saw fit to correct them and boast of all your merits. Our Sages were very stringent on this matter. My teacher and rabbi, the gaon Rabbi Ariel Leibish [unclear], head of the Minsk yeshivah, explained the teaching of Rabbi Yehudah in the name of Rav: ‘Anyone who arrogantly wears the cloak of a Torah scholar but is not a Torah scholar is not admitted into the presence of Hakadosh Boruch Hu.’ This does not mean, literally, someone who is not a Torah scholar at all, for such a person is simply a liar, and his punishment is stated separately. It means someone who is a Torah scholar but wants to be regarded as an even greater Torah scholar than he really is. Such a person, too, is not admitted into the presence of Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” Chaim Shimon spoke with fiery intensity, for the spark of arrogance he had detected in the elderly gaon pained him deeply. The people there stared in astonishment. Even those who understood what he was saying felt that this was a grave affront to the gaon’s honor. But they remained silent. Some, however, felt that Chaim Shimon had gone too far in his audacity, speaking so harshly to such a renowned tzaddik. Among those who heard young Chaim Shimon sharply rebuke the elderly, righteous Rabbi Betzalel for what appeared to be signs of arrogance was Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel, the sofer

11:07 The STaM scribe was the husband of that Rabbi Betzalel’s granddaughter. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel had been deeply G-d-fearing from early childhood and always sat in the beis midrash. He was a student of Rabbi Gavriel and learned in his yeshiva. On Rabbi Gavriel’s advice, he became a STaM scribe. Rabbi Gavriel was also the one who arranged his marriage. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel learned the scribe’s craft from Reb Pesachya Meir, who also made tefillin cases, and continued working for him for fifteen years. Pesachya Meir was considered exceptional even among scribes. He never wrote a letter or worked on tefillin cases unless he was fasting. Before sitting down to write, he immersed in a mikveh and repeatedly declared aloud, with concentration, that he was writing for the sake of holiness. He prepared the parchment, quill, and ink with special care, doing everything in holiness and purity. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel learned from his teacher Pesachya not only the sacred work, but also his meticulous care and reverence. When Reb Pesachya Meir passed away, Yehoshua Feitel was appointed to take his place. But Yehoshua Feitel was deeply afraid of the great responsibility this involved. With tears in his eyes, he begged Rabbi Gavriel to release him from this role—the responsibility of providing Jews with Torah scrolls, tefillin, and mezuzos. He feared he could never reach Rabbi Pesachya Meir’s level. “How can I compare myself to my righteous teacher, of blessed memory?” he said, weeping before the rabbi. “I am a small and humble man. Better that I take up a simple craft.” But Rabbi Gavriel would not let him give it up. He encouraged him, strengthened him, and persuaded him to continue the sacred work. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel finally agreed, on condition that someone always be beside him to remind him of the holiness of the work he was doing, and that he must always do it for its sacred purpose. This person would also have to tell him how Rabbi Pesachya Meir had gone about preparing

13:40 the parchment, writing the text, and making the cases, and what intentions he had while doing so. Even after all this, Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel still hesitated to begin the work, until his teacher Pesachya appeared to him in a dream and instructed him to become the scribe of Dobromysl. Rabbi Gavriel had to choose the assistant Yehoshua Feitel had requested, and he chose Rabbi Shmarya the Lame, a learned and G-d-fearing Jew. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel taught him the laws of writing STaM and Rabbi Pesachya Meir’s practices, so that he could remind him of them often. Even then, Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel did not begin his work until he had undertaken self-denial and fasting—no fewer than one hundred and twenty fasts in succession, three sets of forty, excluding Shabbos and Yom Tov, of course. Every night he recited Tikkun Chatzos, and throughout that period he did not leave the beis midrash at all. Only after this preparation did he summon the courage to begin the sacred work of a STaM scribe. So when Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel heard the words of rebuke Rabbi Chaim Shimon directed at the righteous Rabbi Betzalel in the bathhouse, a shiver ran through him. He felt that Chaim Shimon’s rebuke applied specifically to him. Was he not proud? More than once he had felt proud of his sacred work. More than once he had taken pleasure and satisfaction in the fine tefillin passages and beautiful mezuzos he had written. He had also enjoyed it when Rabbi Shmarya or customers praised the quality of his work—or when he praised it himself. “These are all signs of pride and self-glorification,” he told himself. Chaim Shimon’s words left such an impression on the innocent scribe that he could find no peace throughout Shabbos. As soon as Shabbos ended, he hurried to Rabbi Dovid Moshe the dayan and told him that he felt he had sinned through pride.

16:11 He therefore asked the dayan to prescribe a course of repentance for him, and said that he had decided to leave his craft and entrust the work to Rabbi Shmarya. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel had another reason for deciding to stop being a scribe. He felt his eyesight weakening and feared that this might cause him to make mistakes when writing Torah scrolls and tefillin passages. Dovid Moshe the dayan refused to prescribe anything for him. He assured him that he had committed no sin and therefore needed no course of repentance. But when Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel saw that he would get no prescription for repentance from the dayan, he set his own regimen of fasting and self-denial and stopped working. Word spread throughout the town that Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel had ceased to be a scribe. No one could explain his decision, and all sorts of theories arose. Some said that Rabbi Pesachya Meir, Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel’s teacher, had appeared to him in a dream and ordered him to leave his work. The town of Dobromysl was bewildered and in an uproar. There was a learned and charitable Jew in Dobromysl named Rabbi Pinchas Mordechai. He gave a regular Gemara class. Having no children of his own, he had taken an orphan—his brother’s son—into his home. Rabbi Pinchas Mordechai was inclined to investigate the full details of any event he heard about that interested him. So when he heard the various theories circulating in town about Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel’s motives, he decided to look into the matter. That was how he discovered that it all stemmed from Chaim Shimon’s words to Rabbi Betzalel. The results of his investigation later reached Rabbi Yosef, causing him great distress. He immediately went to Rabbi Betzalel and asked his forgiveness for the insolence of his granddaughter’s husband. Rabbi Betzalel reassured Rabbi Yosef and told him that, in truth,

18:52 Chaim Shimon had done him a great favor. True, he had never intended to show pride, but someone else hearing his words might have seen them as pride, and that could have caused harm. A few weeks passed, and Rabbi Betzalel returned to his home in Bresna. Rabbi Yehoshua Feitel left Dobromysl. Little by little, the whole affair was forgotten. The Jews of Dobromysl found other things to occupy them. Because of Chaim Shimon’s fierce attacks on proud people and his inability to tolerate those who were arrogant and sought honor, he had fewer and fewer friends in Dobromysl. The two older sons-in-law of Rabbi Eliezer Reuven the blacksmith were not fond of Rabbi Chaim Shimon either. No doubt they knew that Rabbi Chaim Shimon looked on them unfavorably, seeing them as men eager for everyone to know how learned they were. But the relationship between Rabbi Chaim Shimon and Rabbi Yitzchak Shaul, the blacksmith’s third son-in-law, was different. Through this friend, Rabbi Chaim Shimon became acquainted with Baruch when Baruch came to spend Pesach at the home of Yitzchak Shaul’s father-in-law. The friendship between Chaim Shimon and Yitzchak Shaul began on Yitzchak Shaul’s first day in Dobromysl. Chaim Shimon was among those invited to Yitzchak Shaul’s wedding celebration, where, as was customary, the groom delivered an intricate Torah discourse that amazed those present, including Chaim Shimon. Everyone praised the discourse, but Chaim Shimon added a piece of friendly advice for the groom: “But please don’t become proud, as learned young men tend to do. The moment they say a few words of Torah, they begin to puff themselves up.” Yitzchak Shaul, who had already absorbed the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov through his father, Rabbi Nissan, could tell from Chaim Shimon’s words that this was a young man of a special kind. He also noticed that the other learned men seated at the table lowered their heads in embarrassment, because

21:35 they did not like Chaim Shimon’s words and felt hurt by them. Yitzchak Shaul’s father, Rabbi Nissan, who was sitting beside the groom as was customary and had heard Chaim Shimon’s words, turned to his son and whispered, “This young man could be made into a real mensch.”