Episode 102: Baruch of Vyazin Amid the Splendor of Nature

00:01 Baruch of Vyozin was staying with Rabbi Shlomo at the estate of Rabbi Shlomo’s brother for the wedding, and Baruch went out to enjoy the estate’s natural beauty. Once, he was overcome with an extraordinary sense of wonder at the greatness of Hashem’s works and His wonders in nature. It was twilight. As he wandered across the estate, his feet brought him to the top of a hill overlooking the land below. Green fields stretched as far as the eye could see. A river flowed at the foot of the hill, and the sound of its rushing water blended with the other sounds of nature into a sweet song, as though sung by a host of angels praising Hashem. Baruch was awestruck. “Praise Hashem from the earth,” he exclaimed. He could not tear his eyes from the splendor of the Divine creation. He went on gazing, spellbound, at its wonders, until he nearly forgot that he had to return to help his teacher. The sunset that followed was especially magnificent. But Baruch’s wonder now gave way to a feeling of awe as darkness began to spread over the land. The earth changed from bright to dark, and with it, the mood seemed to turn somber. Baruch remained rooted to the spot, lost in thought. Before long, a luminous sky spread above him, strewn with billions of shining stars. The moon made its way among them like a queen, bathing the world in its silvery rays. Now joy took the place of the sadness the sunset had brought. The light of the moon and stars awakened in Baruch a joy he had never known or felt before. It was the joy of creation, a complete, G-dly joy. No one needed to remind Baruch that it was time for Maariv. The prayer seemed to well up and pour forth of its own accord, driven by the cry, “All my bones shall say: Hashem, who is like You?” And so his lips began to express

03:19 everything his soul felt as it blessed Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who by His word brings on the evening, Who with wisdom opens the gates, and with understanding changes the times and alternates the seasons. And so the prayer continued. Baruch recited the verse “Hear, O Israel: Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One” with such concentration and fervor, feeling himself part of the Divine oneness that brings all creation into being. He drew out the word “One” in “Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One,” with emphasis and intent. It rang through the air and filled the world around him. Baruch’s “One” rolled over hills and valleys, fields and forests. It merged with the song of the stream flowing from the foot of the hill and became the song of the whole universe, rising higher and higher until it seemed inseparable from the moon’s glow and the starlight, spreading like the fragrance of spices through all of nature. Baruch’s voice fell silent, as though overcome by the intensity of his wonder. Then, from afar, its echo came back to him. His proclamation of “One” returned, resounding through all creation, encircling hills and valleys, fields and streams, forests and rocks, trees and grass, and enveloping Baruch himself. Everything was fused together in that one word, “One.” All became a single, complete expression of “The whole earth is filled with His glory.” A holy trembling seized Baruch as he heard the echo. It was as though he could hear a Divine response to his sacred call. He felt certain that his voice had reached the highest heavens and the Throne of Glory, and that from there, as it were, the proclamation “Hashem is One” was returning to him, expressing the complete and absolute oneness of “There is nothing besides Him.” Baruch returned to the estate very late that night, feeling as though he had been born anew—more refined, more uplifted. The impression of that evening never left Baruch of Vyozin for the rest of his life. Over the summer, Baruch learned much from the eminent Rabbi Shlomo. He spent most of the day in the yeshiva studying Gemara and its commentaries. At Rabbi Shlomo’s home, however, he studied

06:28 mussar and character refinement, and received guidance in serving the Creator. Baruch made it a rule to do everything he could to put all that he learned into practice, because for him, the main thing was action: actually fulfilling the Creator’s will. As our Sages said, “Study is not the main thing; action is.” Then the month of Elul arrived. As was customary, the yeshiva devoted less time to Gemara and halachah and more to matters of yiras Shamayim and serving the Creator. Many students fasted, recited Tikkun Chatzos, and devoted themselves to soul-searching, the study of mussar, and teshuvah. This gave Baruch an opportunity to devote himself even more deeply to the study of mussar and character refinement. Baruch also made use of his time to fulfill his wish to be alone in the forest. Ever since he had stayed with his teacher, Rabbi Shlomo, at the estate of Rabbi Shlomo’s brother’s father-in-law, where he had grasped the meaning of the Divine creation, Baruch had felt an even greater longing for and love of nature. The almost revelatory experience of that unforgettable evening had left such a deep impression on him that whenever he could, he looked for a chance to leave the city and walk through fields and forests, feeling that this brought him closer to the Creator of the world. From what he had learned, Baruch knew that besides the broad division of Hashem’s creations into the hosts of heaven and the hosts of earth, there was a further division within the hosts of earth—the lower world itself. It consisted of four categories: inanimate, growing, living, and speaking. Each category has its own soul, which gives it life and sustains it. These four categories are not equal in rank; each stands higher than the one before it. The growing is higher than the inanimate, the living is higher than the growing, and the speaking—that is, the human being—is higher than all the rest. The role of each lower category is to serve the one above it. Plants draw nourishment from the inanimate earth. Animals feed on plants,

09:28 and human beings feed on animals. The purpose of every created thing is to rise and become part of the level above it. In this way, the purpose of Hakadosh Boruch Hu and of the entire Divine creation is fulfilled. At the same time, although, as noted, every created thing has a soul of its own, the souls of the four categories are not alike. At their source, all souls come from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself, Who is singular and unique, with no beginning and no end. But when those souls become manifest in the world, their levels correspond to their place and standing within creation. The inanimate has the soul of the inanimate, the growing has the soul of the growing, and the same is true of the living and the speaking. Accordingly, the human soul is the highest. These insights opened Baruch of Vyozin’s eyes to see everything as part of the whole Divine creation. In everything, he saw the Creator’s wisdom and might, and a part of G-d above. The sun in its strength, the moon and stars in their majestic beauty, filled Baruch with as much wonder as the worm moving across the ground and the ant building its world. All told of the works of G-d and the wonders of the Creator. Baruch of Vyozin saw a soul in everything, and from every thing and every sight he learned both to love and to stand in awe of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Then, in the second half of Elul, Baruch went out into the countryside and came to a field whose grain had already been harvested. Scattered stalks lay here and there, and in one place a forgotten sickle lay on the ground. He walked along the edge of an orchard where the fruit had already been picked from the trees. A few apples and pears, beginning to rot, were scattered on the grass between them. Crows perched on the bare branches, calling out. Sadness began to weigh on Baruch’s heart. The world seemed to stand at the boundary between the year that was ending and the year

12:21 about to begin. The world stood on the threshold of renewal. On 25 Elul the world was created, and on Rosh Hashanah, the sixth day of Creation, man, the most exalted of creatures, was created. The departing year seemed to take its leave with a trace of sadness, while the new year appeared in its place with joy and gladness. As Baruch of Vayzin was absorbed in these thoughts, lightning began to pierce the darkness of the clouds that had suddenly covered the sky. Baruch was not afraid of the lightning and thunder, nor was he alarmed by the rain. In the thunder he heard the voice of Creation, and in the lightning he saw a reflection of Divine light. Now the clouds began to disperse, and patches of blue sky appeared between them. On one of the clouds hanging opposite the sun, a rainbow suddenly appeared in all its many-colored, majestic splendor. With a feeling of awe and reverence, Baruch enthusiastically recited the blessing over the rainbow. The thought passed through his mind that a person is, in fact, like a tree of the field. There is a time for growth, a time for bearing fruit and standing firm, and a time for decline and withering. Thus Baruch of Vayzin came to see further aspects of the human being as an inseparable part of Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s Creation. When the Days of Awe arrived—Rosh Hashanah, the Ten Days of Teshuvah, and Yom Kippur—Baruch felt himself to be part of the Divine Creation, aware that its continuing existence comes from its Divine source, and aware of the sovereignty and mastery of the Creator of the world, who sustains everything. The prayers of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur seemed to rise and pour forth of their own accord from deep within his soul. Baruch’s soul found its fullest expression in these holy and sublime prayers. Through them he reached a peak of pure spirituality that took hold of his entire being. Purified now of physicality, he attained a spiritual state, permeated and surrounded by unbounded spiritual joy. The Days of Awe passed, and after Sukkos Baruch had to leave Rabbi Shlomo’s home, for his term as the gaon’s attendant had ended and it was another student’s turn

15:25 to take his place as the head of the yeshiva’s attendant.