Episode 82, Part B: Zevulun Binyomin Succeeds in Stopping the Plague

00:01 The story continues with Yitzchak Shaul, son-in-law of Eliezer Reuven the blacksmith, and Zevulun Binyamin the hide skinner. Yitzchak Shaul had a great influence on Zevulun Binyamin. Yitzchak Shaul’s father had impressed upon him his duty to devote himself to raising Zevulun Binyamin’s spiritual level, alongside the task he had taken on of finding a husband for Zevulun Binyamin’s daughter Dina. And so he took it upon himself to concern himself with Zevulun Binyamin as well. In a letter to his son, his father instructed him to regard the hide skinner as a find—a spiritual find, of course. He was capable of reaching a high spiritual level and showing the entire Jewish world that there is no Jew, whatever his level, who cannot rise higher. As a result of all this, Yitzchak Shaul decided to set an example of love for work, and that led to his decision to become a blacksmith. After some discussion with his father-in-law, he persuaded him to let him into the smithy to help with the work. Eliezer Reuven struggled with the idea before coming to terms with the fact that the son-in-law he had chosen precisely for his learning, and with whom he had hoped to delight himself and take pride, would become a simple tradesman. It was especially hard for him to accept because he thought it would diminish the standing of his other two sons-in-law, the heads of the yeshiva. But he soon realized that this son-in-law was made of entirely different stuff from his brothers-in-law. Eliezer Reuven knew very little about the Chassidic spirit that had begun to stir within him. For his part, it was enough that he eventually became convinced that someone like Yitzchak Shaul would not lose any of his spiritual stature by taking up a trade. Meanwhile, it became clear that Yitzchak Shaul had brought success to the smithy too. Though he had only just begun learning the trade from his father-in-law, he had already devised things that caused amazement and brought in additional income. For example, Yitzchak Shaul devised an attachment for a plow, a kind of spike that could break up the

02:52 soil as it was being plowed. This saved the farmers unnecessary work, and they began coming in droves to Eliezer Reuven’s smithy to have Yitzchak Shaul’s attachment fitted to their plows. They were prepared to pay enormous sums for it. Plows began arriving from the estates of the landowners as well, to have the new attachment added. Orders also came from them for new plows and for carriages, since the landowners had seen that Eliezer Reuven’s son-in-law was a master of his craft. “I’ve stood beside the anvil for forty years and never managed to come up with anything new, and here comes a yeshiva student and works wonders,” Eliezer Reuven would marvel. His mother-in-law, the blacksmith’s wife, responded, “Where there is Torah, there is wisdom.” Yitzchak Shaul himself credited the Torah for the success of his invention. “I didn’t come up with anything of my own,” he said. “I got the idea from the Mishnah. The Mishnah discusses utensils that can become ritually impure and utensils that cannot, and it mentions this very spike, which breaks up the soil while plowing. When I first saw the plows the farmers brought to the workshop without these spikes attached, it occurred to me to add them. So the Mishnah is really the source of the invention.” For Yitzchak Shaul, the trade was not just a source of honest livelihood but also a way to grow close to ordinary people. He intended to spend time with these Jews and, in that way, help them reach a higher spiritual level by instilling good character traits in them and learning Torah with each one according to his understanding. His affection and devotion to simple people knew no bounds. Yitzchak Shaul also had affection for animals and plants, and for all of Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s creatures. He inherited this affection from his father, Rabbi Nissan, who had instilled in him from early childhood compassion for all and the understanding that even a fly or a worm must not be made to suffer,

05:38 nor even grasses or leaves, for they too, his father taught, feel pain and distress. In truth, Yitzchak Shaul had not been compassionate as a child. Like other children, he used to throw stones at birds, strike goats and cows, and tear branches from trees. His father, Rabbi Nissan, once rebuked him for this. His father had a rooster he was especially fond of, because its crowing at daybreak woke Rabbi Nissan at once. He would wash his hands and hurry to shul. So Reb Nissan cared for the rooster, often feeding and watering it himself, and made sure that each evening, at the proper time, it was put behind the stove for the night. In this way, Reb Nissan hoped to keep the rooster’s crow loud and strong. But it was precisely his father’s special treatment of the rooster that angered young Yitzchak Shaul. He hated the bird. He could not bear its crowing, the very sound that gave his father pleasure. So he was always looking for opportunities to torment the rooster. Whenever his father was not looking, he threw stones at it and chased it to tire it out. There was also a hen at home that sat on her eggs until they hatched. The hen and her chicks ran about outside, and Yitzchak Shaul used to frighten them and throw stones at them for fun. He took particular pleasure in setting a dog on a cat, or catching flies and throwing them into spiderwebs, watching the flies struggle until the spider devoured them. Until one day. Yitzchak Shaul never forgot an incident from his childhood that left its mark on him for the rest of his life. He was tormenting and chasing animals as usual when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder[?]. He turned and saw his father, who had caught him in the act[?]. His father’s face

08:21 was stern. As a rule, Rabbi Nissan never raised a hand against anyone. Even in his role as a teacher, he never laid a hand on a student. The strap hung on the wall, and when a student did something wrong, he would merely point to it and offer words of rebuke and explanation. This approach proved effective: Rabbi Nissan’s students treated him with more awe and respect than students whose teachers gave them sound beatings. Now, however, when Rabbi Nissan saw his son’s antics, he took him into the house. He told him to take out Tractate Shabbos and recite aloud the Mishnah in chapter 18, Mishnah 2, which says, “One may turn a basket over for chicks on Shabbos so that they can climb up and down.” “My son,” he said to Yitzchak Shaul, “you see that even on Shabbos one may move an object to prevent chicks from suffering? You should know that preventing the suffering of animals is a mitzvah from the Torah. The Gemara says in Tractate Berachos, page 40, that a person may not eat before giving food to his animal. This is learned from the verse, ‘I will provide grass in your field for your animal,’ and only afterward, ‘and you will eat and be satisfied.’ Yet you, my son, behave with a cruelty befitting a bloodthirsty murderer. Does the suffering of living creatures mean nothing to you?” Frightened, Yitzchak Shaul hoped that, as usual, his father would stop at words of rebuke, which had penetrated to the depths of his soul. But the strap was in his father’s hand. His father continued: “You know very well that it is not my way to use the strap and strike anyone. But because of your wicked deeds, I feel compelled to strike you with it. I will not do it willingly, nor to punish you, but so that you yourself will feel the pain of the suffering you cause others.” His father told Yitzchak Shaul to take the strap down from the wall and hand it to him. He then instructed him to lie facedown on the bench. Rabbi Nissan declared again that he was doing it

11:13 This was only so that he, Yitzchak Shaul, would feel and remember the suffering he himself caused the animals. The lashes Yitzchak Shaul received were the first of his life, and also the last. He accepted them with love. Each lash hurt him terribly, but he did not utter a sound. Afterward, Rabbi Nissan put down the strap and went into the next room. Yitzchak Shaul heard his father weeping aloud. He knew his father was crying out of deep sorrow that his son had behaved improperly. That pained him more than the blows themselves. He felt remorse and shame. For several days, Yitzchak Shaul carried that pain with him. On the third day, he approached his father, kissed his hand, and asked forgiveness. Rabbi Nissan’s eyes filled with tears. “You are still young,” he said, “and all your sins fall on my shoulders. In that respect, the matter is not so terrible. Far more serious is the possibility that you will grow up cruel and bloodthirsty.” This incident affected Yitzchak Shaul deeply, and from then on he felt a change within himself. A feeling of compassion for all creatures filled his heart. After this incident, Rabbi Nissan intensified his efforts to guide his son. In addition to his regular studies, he set aside time to study works of mussar with him, hoping to instill good character traits in his heart. When Yitzchak Shaul turned eleven, his father sent him to Minsk to study in a yeshiva. Yitzchak Shaul spent seven years in Minsk, studying Torah with great diligence. He stood out for his persistence and was given the nickname “the masmid from Horki.” He was careful to follow his father’s instructions not to waste his time, and to restrain his natural inclination to look at things with no real substance, listen to trivial talk, or speak of unimportant matters. Rabbi Nissan himself had studied in Minsk in his youth, and he still had friends in the city

14:00 with whom he corresponded. These friends drew Yitzchak Shaul close and watched over his conduct. Among them was a Jew named Avraham Abba, a baker by trade and a great Torah scholar. He often explained to Yitzchak Shaul that Torah study not grounded in fear of Heaven, meticulous observance of mitzvos, and especially Ahavas Yisroel, was not truly study. Avraham Abba took Yitzchak Shaul to small gatherings where the participants discussed serving Hashem. At these gatherings, Yitzchak Shaul met another Jew named Moshe Nissan, one of the regulars at the beis midrash. He lived alone and was an immense scholar. His knowledge encompassed not only the Gemara but also the entire Rambam, which he knew by heart. Throughout the week, Moshe Nissan lived on bread and water alone, and on Mondays and Thursdays he fasted completely. Moshe Nissan devoted himself not only to Torah study but also to avodah and acts of kindness. He spent a great deal of time in prayer and immersed himself in works of mussar. He also taught mussar publicly. Yitzchak Shaul attended these lessons, and they had a profound effect on him. Moshe Nissan succeeded not only in instilling good character traits in Yitzchak Shaul’s heart, but also in awakening within him a burning love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s creatures. After Yitzchak Shaul returned from Minsk to his hometown of Horki, he studied under Azriel Yosef. Azriel Yosef was the maggid of Horki and ran a local yeshiva. From time to time, Azriel Yosef would travel with Nissan, Yitzchak Shaul’s father, and others to the Baal Shem Tov. In this way, the teachings of Chassidus reached Yitzchak Shaul. Naturally, when Yitzchak Shaul became the son-in-law of Eliezer Reuven the blacksmith in Dobromysl, he continued to follow the path of Chassidus, though only a few people knew of this path or what it meant. In the spirit of these teachings,

16:29 Yitzchak Shaul, who had by then become an outstanding Torah scholar, decided to become a blacksmith. In this way, he could surround himself with simple Jews and draw them closer to Yiddishkeit. Among them was that same Zevulun Binyamin about whom we have spoken so much. Then an interesting development gave Zevulun Binyamin a position of importance in Dobromysl. Remember, until then he had been considered an ignorant man whom everyone looked down on. It emerged that Zevulun Binyamin could save Jews and non-Jews from a serious illness that had spread through Dobromysl and the surrounding villages. The illness struck children especially hard and, in a different way, livestock too, and many of them died. Panic broke out throughout the area. No one knew how to stop the epidemic. But Zevulun Binyamin, who had gained long experience treating livestock, also understood illnesses of this kind in people, which could spread into an epidemic. Zevulun Binyamin explained that the illness came from the milk of cows and goats that had eaten certain poisonous grasses. He also knew how to treat the illness and prevent it from spreading. So he immediately set to work preparing remedies for the sick children and instructing the public on precautions to stop its spread. Within a few days, the epidemic had stopped in Dobromysl, both among the people and among the livestock. Everyone in Dobromysl now knew that Zevulun Binyamin had worked wonders. The man who skinned dead animals, whom no one had ever befriended except, of course, Eliezer Reuven, rose in people’s esteem. Suddenly, everyone realized that he was not as insignificant as they had first imagined. Indeed, there is no person who does not have his place and his moment. After he succeeded in stopping the epidemic that had struck Dobromysl’s children and livestock so severely, the rabbi of Dobromysl said that they should hold a communal fast to express thanks and praise to the Master of the Universe for the kindness He had shown the town and its residents, and to inspire repentance in the days ahead. It was the eve of Rosh Chodesh Elul,

19:32 and the whole community gathered in the synagogue for the Yom Kippur Katan prayers, as they are called. The rabbi delivered a sermon that left a deep impression on those who heard it. Among other things, the rabbi praised Zevulun Binyamin, whom he saw as a messenger from Heaven sent to save the Jews. This, the rabbi said, showed that any Jew can be a messenger who brings salvation and rescue to the Jewish people as a whole. As was his way, the rabbi wept bitterly during his sermon. He said the epidemic was the result of sins, and if the community had sinned, the blame lay with its rabbi. As it is written, “And I placed them at your head”: responsibility for the community’s sins rests on the heads of its leaders. In this case, that clearly meant the rabbi, because he had failed in his duty to guide the community properly. At the same time, the rabbi expressed his joy that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had sent salvation specifically through a simple Jew like Zevulun Binyamin.