Episode 86: An Interesting Debate For and Against the Hidden Tzaddikim

00:01 We continue with the story of Moishele Leib, the son-in-law of Eliezer Reuven the blacksmith. We have already heard that, as a boy or young man, he had a friend named Gronem Eliyahu, whose father was connected to the hidden tzaddikim. Once, Moishele Leib and Gronem Eliyahu were sitting and learning together. Wolf, the shamash and Gronem Eliyahu’s father, came and sat beside them, listening to their learning. From time to time, he offered an explanation of something they were having trouble with. His fluent explanations showed both his breadth of knowledge and his sharpness in learning. Just then, Yeshayahu Leib the shopkeeper arrived. He, too, sat down beside the two boys and made a few comments on the subject they were studying, hoping to gauge how much they knew. Yeshayahu Leib was pleased. “With Hashem’s help, they’ll become great scholars,” he told Reb Wolf, adding, “And your son is truly exceptional.” Yeshayahu Leib was sure his words would give Wolf great pleasure. But Wolf replied, “Our Sages said that study is not the main thing, but action. I would rather my son be G-d-fearing and have good character than be a Torah scholar who chases honor.” These words infuriated Yeshayahu Leib. He was quick-tempered by nature, but this time he also felt the words were aimed at him, and he burst out: “Reb Wolf, I fear you belong to a sect and associate with unlearned people. You consider an ordinary person more important than a Torah scholar. I already know that you consort with these so-called ‘hidden tzaddikim,’ who are nothing but empty people and troublemakers for the Jewish people.” Moishele Leib and Gronem Eliyahu listened in tense silence. As Moishele later told Boruch, the exchange between the shamash and the shopkeeper was etched deep in his memory. After speaking this way to Wolf, Yeshayahu Leib expected Wolf to

02:49 answer back, and a quarrel to break out. But Wolf remained composed and replied calmly. “Our Sages said, ‘Do not try to appease your fellow while he is angry.’ If that applies when someone’s anger is justified, how much more so when it is not. In that state, words will do no good, because he will not listen. Yeshayahu Leib, when you calm down and your anger passes, we can continue our conversation. But there is no point now; it is better to be quiet.” These words affected Yeshayahu Leib. He calmed down at once and admitted that he had gone too far. Still, he said again, now in a milder tone, that he could not understand how Reb Wolf could tolerate those hidden tzaddikim, whose dealings were all with unlearned people and women. “Our Sages said,” Yeshayahu Leib continued in the singsong tone of a scholar, “that unlearned people cannot be relied upon in matters of tithes and ritual purity, that one should avoid marrying into their families or even sitting at the same table with them, and that, in general, we should keep our distance from them. On the other hand, we are commanded to honor Torah scholars, and bringing a gift to a Torah scholar is considered like offering sacrifices and pouring libations on the altar. And now people come along who not only fail to follow the instructions of our Sages, but do the very opposite, under the guise of fear of Heaven. Could there be a greater wrong?” Now that Yeshayahu Leib was speaking calmly, Wolf did answer him. “From your point of view, you are right. But that whole point of view is mistaken from the outset. You should know that the hidden tzaddikim are not only great tzaddikim; they are also great scholars. Among them are men thoroughly versed in the Talmud and great in both the revealed and hidden dimensions of Torah. They are genuinely G-d-fearing. They fast and practice self-denial. They wander in exile from town to town and settlement to settlement,

05:21 with self-sacrifice and a clear purpose: to inspire Jews to draw closer to their Creator and cleave more closely to Him. That is why they disguise themselves as simple people—to have a greater influence on ordinary people and be more successful in helping them mend their ways.” Wolf went on to explain the activities of the hidden tzaddikim at length, so that Yeshayahu Leib would better understand who they were. As he spoke, it became clear that Wolf knew very well what went on among them, as though he himself were one of them. He continued: “The hidden tzaddikim befriend the shopkeepers and peddlers in the market because most of them come to the beis midrash only occasionally and do not hear Torah classes. Even when they do happen to hear one, they do not understand what it is about. So the hidden tzaddikim speak to them about Torah in a way that they do not even realize. At the same time, they try to influence them to conduct their daily lives honestly and to guard their tongues from evil—not to curse or insult people, or spread gossip and lashon hara.” Yeshayahu Leib and the two boys—Gronem Eliyahu, Wolf’s son, and his friend Moishele—listened wide-eyed. All of this was entirely new to them. Wolf grew impassioned as he spoke about the hidden tzaddikim and told them much more. He explained that they did not work individually. They formed a distinct group whose members were connected to one another and worked together according to an organized plan. “In fact,” Wolf said, “the group of hidden tzaddikim has been around for a long time. It was founded by the great scholar and tzaddik Rabbi Eliyahu, the Baal Shem of Worms in Germany, at least 110 years ago. According to the tradition known to us, Rabbi Eliyahu founded the group after an unnamed Kabbalist instructed him to gather select individuals—great scholars and tzaddikim ready to sacrifice themselves for the Jewish people—who would travel among all the Jewish communities and inspire ordinary people to serve their Creator.

08:09 “That was in 5381 or 5383,” Reb Wolf said, “and since then, thousands of ordinary Jews have been drawn closer to serving their Creator. These tzaddikim,” Wolf continued, “do not belittle the honor of Torah scholars. On the contrary, their whole aim is to inspire even the simplest Jews to respect the Torah. So how can you accuse them of failing to follow the instructions of our Sages? Far from it. They forgo their own honor for the sake of a higher goal. After all, when a rabbi waives the honor due him, it is waived.” Yeshayahu Leib the shopkeeper did not accept this readily. He argued the opposite: “Even if the first hidden tzaddikim were great tzaddikim whose sole intention was to benefit the community, spending so much time with people of lower standing was bound to diminish their standing in the eyes of the public—and indeed it has. That undermines the honor due to Torah scholars, which is a positive commandment.” Wolf replied that Yeshayahu Leib and people like him were so concerned with the honor of Torah scholars that they neglected the honor due to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “Those hidden tzaddikim you oppose,” he said, “do their holy work in the opposite order from you. Perhaps they are not so concerned with their own honor and comfort, but their chief aspiration is to draw Jews closer to their Creator and plant in their hearts a love of Torah and a desire to observe its mitzvos.” The two young boys, Moishele and Gronem Eliyahu, sat transfixed, eagerly taking in every word. Gronem Eliyahu was two years older than Moishele and knew more about the hidden tzaddikim from what he had heard and seen at home with his father. Moishele asked his friend for more details about them. The stories he heard fired his imagination, and whenever he had the chance, he asked Gronem Eliyahu to tell him more stories of the hidden tzaddikim. In time, he developed a longing to see one with his own eyes. “Do me a favor,” he said to Gronem Eliyahu. “Introduce me to one of the hidden tzaddikim who comes to Beshenkovitz[?] and associates with your father.” Gronem Eliyahu, however, shook his head.

10:53 nodded his head in agreement, but two or three months passed, and Moishele had still not had the privilege of seeing a hidden tzaddik. Gronem Eliyahu’s stories kept flowing, but all the hidden tzaddikim he spoke about were from other places. One day, on his way from home to the beis midrash, Moishele saw a crowd in the distance. It was a bright, sunny day, and he wondered what had brought people together in the marketplace on an ordinary weekday. He approached and pushed his way through until he reached the center of the crowd. There he noticed an unfamiliar man standing and speaking to everyone around him. The man’s appearance alone astonished Moishele. He was tall and dark-haired, with a gaunt face, and wore a fur coat and fur hat despite the summer heat. What he said was no less surprising than how he looked. He spoke at length about conducting business faithfully and honestly, and about the punishment awaiting someone who harms another person’s livelihood. The people gathered listened with great interest, and Moishele assumed the man was a hidden tzaddik. He was overcome with excitement. He had always dreamed of seeing a hidden tzaddik, and now one was standing before his eyes. He immediately ran to the beis midrash and told his friend Gronem Eliyahu what had happened. Gronem Eliyahu agreed that the man was probably a hidden tzaddik, and they ran straight to the marketplace. By then the crowd had grown, and everyone was listening intently to the traveler’s words. Among them they spotted Wolf the shamash, but this time the two boys could not make their way through the mass of people. To their great disappointment, they could not even hear what the tzaddik was saying. Moishele never saw that hidden tzaddik again, or any others. When he returned home that evening, he told his father—as we recall, his father was Yosef Akiva, the rosh yeshivah—about his encounter with the hidden tzaddik, and everything

13:19 he had heard from his friend Gronem Eliyahu about the hidden tzaddikim in general. His father listened closely. But when Moishele had finished, his father gave him his own explanation of these hidden figures. It was completely different from what Moishele had thought. For the first time, he learned that his father had no regard for them at all. In his father’s eyes, they were lowly, ignorant people who used holy names and adjurations of angels in direct opposition to the spirit of the Torah. Yosef Akiva continued, telling his son Moishele, “You must keep completely away from the company of these hidden people. As your father, I command you not to listen to the words of any one of them, should you ever meet one. I also demand that you stop associating with Gronem Eliyahu and listening to his stories about the hidden tzaddikim, which are nothing but empty nonsense.” Moishele felt as though cold water had been poured over him. He could not understand where his father’s contempt—or even hatred—for the hidden tzaddikim came from. To Moishele, they inspired admiration and wonder. His father had shattered his world. Moishele wanted to hear more of an explanation, but his father, Yosef Akiva, refused to discuss the matter further and declared that, as far as he was concerned, it was closed. Well, Moishele knew he had to obey his father. He could trust that his father knew what he was talking about and surely had good reason for his attitude toward the hidden tzaddikim. Moishele did not even have a chance to hear about any others, because his father immediately sent him to a yeshivah in Vitebsk. Apparently, he was afraid to leave Moishele in his own yeshivah lest Gronem Eliyahu influence him. Before Moishele left for Vitebsk, his father firmly repeated his warning: he must not dare take an interest in the hidden tzaddikim or their activities, and must devote himself solely to Torah. Moishele studied in the Vitebsk yeshivah for seven years. Throughout that time he heeded his father’s warning not to take an interest in the hidden tzaddikim. He did hear rumors about them, since, apparently, they had become

16:07 a phenomenon that could not be ignored, but the rumors he heard were only negative. Despite his curiosity and his questions, he did not dare investigate them. His father’s command was always before him, and he kept it. When he returned home after seven years, his father’s first question was whether he had obeyed his instruction regarding the hidden tzaddikim. Moishele said yes, and Yosef Akiva was pleased. But to Moishele’s surprise, his father went on to say that over the years he had learned that some of the hidden tzaddikim were also great Torah scholars and tzaddikim. Even so, he maintained that one should have no contact with them, because their path was based on Kabbalah, and engaging in that study required special preparation. In light of all this, Yosef Akiva told Moishele, one should avoid associating with them, but should not speak ill of them either. Moishele could not understand his father’s thinking—neither his earlier position nor his new one. Yet he could not ask him what lay behind it, because he could see that his father was not inclined to discuss the subject. So Moishele decided to look for a good opportunity to ask his father for the details. But the opportunity never came: his father passed away within the following year. Moishele went on to tell Boruch that his teacher at the Vitebsk yeshivah was a staunch opponent and bitter adversary of the hidden tzaddikim, and fought them in every possible way. At every opportunity, the rosh yeshivah would stir people up with veiled references to a certain teacher of young children who had become a shochet and then suddenly appeared as a moral preacher, beginning to call himself the Baal Shem Tov. As it turned out, this was Rabbi Yisroel Baal Shem Tov, whom the hidden tzaddikim had accepted as their teacher and leader. They had begun telling people everywhere of his greatness and his wonders, calling him one who paved the way for the Geulah. Suddenly, in the course of his conversation with Moishele, Boruch realized that he

18:39 was actually witnessing the struggle between the students and admirers of Rabbi Yisroel Baal Shem Tov and his opponents. Here, among the blacksmith’s sons-in-law and the spokesmen of Yisroel [unclear], he could see representatives of the two camps that were beginning to emerge across the Jewish world: the chassidim on one side and the misnagdim on the other.