Episode 112: Prince Ferdinand and the Maharal

00:01 Continuing our story of the life of the Maharal of Prague, who is a central link in the family line from which Rabbi Schneur Zalman, the founder of Chabad Chassidus, was eventually born: one episode in his life concerns his connection with King Ferdinand. Ferdinand I was a devout Catholic, but that did not interfere with his friendship with Shmuel Reich, the Maharal’s father-in-law. He was friendly toward other Jews as well. Eventually, though, the king’s mind began to be poisoned by hatred of the Jews. In 5416, that is, in 1656, Catholics in Rome began publicly burning the Talmud and other sacred books on the pope’s orders. The Inquisition cheered. Its spirit began to spread from Rome across the Catholic world, until it reached Ferdinand’s court in Prague. Fanatical Catholics launched a campaign of incitement against the Jews, and King Ferdinand allowed himself to be influenced by it. In 5417, a year later, the king summoned the leaders of Prague’s Jewish community and informed them that he would not renew their charter of protection for the following year. All the Jews would therefore have to leave Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia, the lands under his rule. Shmuel Reich, who had learned of the enemies’ plot in advance, initially considered bribing some courtiers. He knew exactly which ones could be bribed and was prepared to give up all his wealth to save the Jews from expulsion. Shmuel Reich consulted his son-in-law, the Maharal. The Maharal opposed the idea, believing it would be dangerous for the Jews to secure their rights by bribing their enemies. Around that time, Prince Ferdinand, the king’s son and Archduke of Bohemia, happened to visit Archduke Johann of Moravia. Both Prince Ferdinand and Archduke Johann were interested in astronomy and mathematics. During their conversation, they came to discuss an important mathematical problem that they tried, unsuccessfully, to solve. Other scholars who were asked to propose a solution to the mathematical problem were unsuccessful too. The two archdukes made a wager: whoever solved the problem would be the other’s intellectual master, and the other would be his moral servant. They set a deadline of six months. When Prince Ferdinand returned to his palace in Prague, he gathered the leading scholars around him and showed them the complex mathematical problem. To his great disappointment, none of them could find a solution. One month passed, then two, three, four, and five months. Prince Ferdinand still had no solution to the mathematical problem. Prince Ferdinand also owned estates he had inherited from an archduke who had no children and had named him his heir. These estates included fortresses, towns, villages, flour mills, weaving houses, taverns, and more. The manager of all these estates was a Jew from Prague named Moshe Yitzchak Sobel. Moshe Yitzchak Sobel had been highly valued by the estates’ previous owner and, later, by his heir, Prince Ferdinand—as we said, the son of King Ferdinand I. After making his wager with the archduke of Moravia, Prince Ferdinand happened to visit his estates and, while there, naturally met with Moshe Yitzchak, the Jewish manager. Moshe Yitzchak sensed that something was troubling the prince and wanted to know what it was. The prince told him everything that weighed on his heart concerning the difficult mathematical problem. Moshe Yitzchak said to the prince, “I understand that you’ve turned to various scholars, but not to Jewish scholars.” The prince burst out laughing. “Jews? What do Jews know about such matters?” he said mockingly. “Jews can fast and mourn the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash and await a miraculous Geulah. Since when do they know anything about science?” Moshe Yitzchak, who had known the prince well since his youth,

03:04 An important mathematical problem that they had tried to solve without success. Other scholars who were asked to propose a solution to the mathematical problem could not solve it either. The two archdukes made a wager: whoever succeeded in solving the problem would become the other’s spiritual master, and the other would become his moral servant. They set a deadline of six months. When Prince Ferdinand returned to his palace in Prague, he gathered the leading scholars around him and showed them the difficult mathematical problem. To his great disappointment, none of them could find a solution. One month passed, then two, then three, four, and five months, and Prince Ferdinand still had no solution to the mathematical problem. In addition to his own estates, Prince Ferdinand had estates he had inherited from an archduke who had no children and had made Prince Ferdinand his heir. These estates included fortresses, towns, villages, flour mills, weaving houses, taverns, and more. The manager of all these estates was a Jew from Prague named Moshe Yitzchak Sobel. Moshe Yitzchak Sobel had been highly valued by the estates’ previous owner and, later, by his heir, Prince Ferdinand—who, as we said, was the son of King Ferdinand I. After his wager with the archduke from Moravia, Prince Ferdinand happened to visit his estates and, while there, naturally met with Moshe Yitzchak, the Jewish manager. Moshe Yitzchak sensed that something was troubling the prince and wanted to know what it was. The prince told him everything that was weighing on his mind about the difficult mathematical problem. Moshe Yitzchak said to the prince, “I understand that you’ve approached various scholars, but you haven’t approached Jewish scholars.” The prince burst out laughing. “Jews? What do Jews know about such things?” he said mockingly. “Jews can fast and mourn the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash and await the Geulah through miracles. Since when do they know anything about science?” Moshe Yitzchak, who had known the prince well since his youth,

06:00 said to him, “You have false assumptions about Jews. Your tutor is to blame. He hated Jews and told you fabricated stories and lies about them. Of course we mourn the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. We recite Tikkun Chatzos, and we believe that our Geulah will come soon, with Hashem’s help. None of that changes the fact that there are many scholars and highly educated people among us. If you want to meet a truly great scholar, you should get to know the rabbi of Prague. There is no field of knowledge in the world that he does not know.” The prince said to Moshe Yitzchak, “If you’re convinced that the rabbi of Prague can solve the mathematical problem for me, bring him to me. But I ask you to do it discreetly, so that no one knows. It would be a disgrace for me if it became known that I needed the help of members of a lowly, ignorant people to solve a scientific problem.” The prince said this calmly, even in a friendly tone, without realizing that he was offending the Jew he was speaking to. Naturally, Moshe Yitzchak was hurt to the depths of his soul, and he answered the prince. “My lord,” he said, “if I did not know you to be an honest, sensible man with a good heart and fine character, I would conclude that you pass judgment on people without knowing them, without the slightest logic or any evidence. That is far worse when you are judging not individuals, but an entire people. How can you express an opinion about Jews when you do not know them? You know nothing about their lives or their Torah. What speaks through you is the hatred of the priests and their fellow Jew-haters—a hatred with no basis other than simple jealousy, because even the least learned Jew knows more than the best of your priests.” Moshe Yitzchak Sobel began explaining to the prince that he had been misled by the priests,

08:28 who could not forgive the Jews for remaining faithful to their Torah and for standing on a much higher intellectual and moral plane than they did. Moshe Yitzchak continued, “And why do you see Jews as a lowly people when they are willing to do any backbreaking work to earn their bread? Why do you regard them as ignorant when they devote their time to Torah and the service of Hashem? Who values honest work and labor as the Jews do, and who spends Shabbos and Yom Tov in such a spiritually elevated way?” Prince Ferdinand burst out with accusations against the Jews. Jews were greedy, he said; they loved money, and they were all very rich. Moshe Yitzchak explained to the prince that there were more poor people among the Jews than among other peoples. The difference was that even the poorest Jew lived within his means. He did not squander what he had. He saved for tomorrow, and so he did not starve. Besides, there were always Jews who helped their brethren, whereas the non-Jews squandered all their money on drinking and revelry and were always looking for more. Moshe Yitzchak also took the opportunity to object to the strange fact that Jewish craftsmen and small-scale merchants had to work hard for their livelihood and were charged higher taxes. “Your mistaken assumptions about Jews have no basis at all,” Moshe Yitzchak told the prince. Tears appeared in Moshe Yitzchak’s eyes. The prince lowered his head, shaken by everything he had heard. Moshe Yitzchak took advantage of the silence and continued: “Consider, my lord prince, the magnitude of our tragedy. As if it were not enough that we were exiled from our land and are now condemned to wander once more from country to country, everywhere we must devote all our strength to others, fill the treasuries of strangers, and have what little property remains to us taken away at any moment. We are driven out as though we were criminals. Now we face a decree to leave Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia, places where”

10:56 We have lived here for hundreds of years and enriched the people of this land. Yet we do not complain against those who decree these things against us. We complain about ourselves, about the harsh punishment our Father in Heaven is giving us because we do not take care to return to Hashem truly and sincerely. This is what our first prophet, Moshe Rabbeinu, testified about us, followed by all the prophets in the name of Hashem, blessed be He. Moshe Yitzchak continued, “Believe me, my lord, neither I nor my fellow Jews are worried about our daily bread. The sages of the Talmud said, ‘He who gives life gives sustenance.’ The meager piece of bread we eat in this country through Hashem’s kindness, we will eat in another country as well. But why expel an industrious people? One’s heart breaks at such a gross and cruel perversion of justice.” The prince sat stunned. After some time he said, “I have known you for some thirty years, and I have never heard you speak so sharply.” Moshe Yitzchak told him, “After the king’s order to expel the Jews was issued, I decided that the first time I met with you, I would open your eyes to the moral state of your peers, and also to the moral state of the priest who makes such a show of his holiness and his love for you, while his heart is full of abominations. My fifty years of service on the estate of my lord, the great and upright prince, a man who drew me and my fellow Jews close and protected us all more than once, saving us, our wives and our children from the bloodthirsty Jesuits, obligate me to do everything in my power to save the light of your gentle heart from being soiled by the filth of that wicked company—the nobles and princes who have fallen into the swindlers’ trap. With these words I have fulfilled my moral duty to my lord the prince and to you, my lord—may you live a long and good life. Only now has a great weight been lifted from my heart, where it has lain for some fifteen years, since you became a man of twenty. I feared that you too, my innocent-hearted lord,

13:29 might, G-d forbid, fall into their trap. Now I am relieved. May you, my lord, ride forth in the cause of truth, and may the eternal G-d help you.” The words of Moshe Yitzchak, the Jewish manager of his estates, made a deep impression on Prince Ferdinand. For the first time in his life, he heard things about the Jews that he had not known. Prince Ferdinand knew that the royal court was rife with intrigue and plots, and that the Catholic priests were conducting a wild campaign of incitement against the Jews. He also knew how powerful the priests were, and that his father, the king, was often helpless against them. Moshe Yitzchak’s explanations opened his eyes and affected him deeply. He began to feel that the Jews were being wronged. For several days the prince went about lost in thought, as though struggling to make a decision. Eventually he summoned Moshe Yitzchak. As we recall, the estate manager had advised the prince to invite the Maharal to see him in connection with his wager with the archduke of Moravia over the mathematical problem. Now he charged Moshe Yitzchak with bringing the Maharal to him, saying, “Send word to the rabbi of Prague that I request him to be my guest.” Moshe Yitzchak replied, “Forgive me, my lord, but I cannot take it upon myself to go to the great scholar, the Maharal, and demand that he appear before the prince. First I must ask whether he agrees to come to you. It would not be proper to order a person of the Maharal’s stature to come to the prince.” The prince understood. He took no offense; on the contrary, his estate manager’s approach made him curious to learn more about the Maharal, about his rabbinic position, and about the great Torah scholars of the Jewish people in general. The prince asked Moshe Yitzchak, “Is the chief rabbi an elderly man, for whom a journey of thirty parasangs in a good carriage would be difficult?” “No,” Moshe Yitzchak replied. “The chief rabbi is in the prime of life, about forty-five years old. When he was twenty,

15:47 the greatest Jewish scholars were already impressed by him. He spent some twenty years studying in the leading houses of learning in Germany and Poland, and for about ten years now the Jewish community of Prague has had the privilege of his agreement to serve as chief rabbi in the capital.” “Surely,” said the prince, “he receives a large salary and has considerable income?” “No,” said Moshe Yitzchak. “The chief rabbi donated his salary to support a house of learning for Jewish young men studying Torah under one of the great teachers he appointed. The community covers only the expenses of the chief rabbi’s household.” “And how does he make a living?” asked the prince. “He earns his living,” Moshe Yitzchak replied, “through a partnership with a Jew who owns a grocery store, and another with a leather merchant. The two businesses provide him with a comfortable livelihood. He studies Torah day and night, and every day receives dozens upon dozens of letters from leading rabbis in countries near and far, who turn to him with their questions and doubts about various matters of Jewish law.” The prince wanted to know the details of Jewish life and of the lives of rabbis and chief rabbis, and Moshe Yitzchak told him everything in detail. At the first opportunity, Moshe Yitzchak visited the Maharal and told him of the prince’s request. He noted that if the Maharal agreed to visit, the prince would send his private carriage to bring him to the castle. The Maharal said first of all that he agreed. He declined, however, the offer to travel in the prince’s carriage, saying that he would come to the castle in an ordinary passenger coach. A week later, the Maharal visited the prince. When the prince presented him with the mathematical problem that had defied solution, the Maharal solved it immediately and without difficulty, greatly impressing the prince. The prince’s astonishment grew still further when the Maharal wrote out the solution in the prince’s own language. Prince Ferdinand offered to pay the Maharal, but the Maharal declined

18:19 the offer and said, “Since the days of Moshe Rabbeinu, the Jewish people have had a tradition of teaching Torah and knowledge to anyone who seeks them, without payment. Only those who need it for their livelihood are permitted to accept payment equivalent to the wages they lose by taking time away from their work.” At the prince’s request, the Maharal stayed at his castle for a week. He ate his meals and rested at Moshe Yitzchak’s home near the castle, but spent much of each day in the castle, speaking with the prince on a wide variety of subjects in science and wisdom. The prince discovered that there was no field in which the Maharal lacked knowledge. The situation of the Jews, their history, and the foundations of their faith occupied a prominent place in their conversations. “Where did you acquire such vast knowledge?” the prince asked the Maharal more than once, expressing his tremendous admiration. One day the prince asked the Maharal why he studied the natural sciences, mathematics, botany and the workings of the human mind; from whom and from which books he had learned them; and for what purpose. Ordinarily, after all, a person chooses one or two fields of knowledge, masters them and works to develop and refine them. If he succeeds to one degree or another, he earns a good reputation, gains great honor and becomes known as an expert in that field. And what was the wisdom of the Torah? The Maharal told him, “The wisdom of the Torah teaches us the mitzvos that the Creator of the world commanded mankind, from Adam, whom G-d created, until the revelation at Mount Sinai. G-d commanded seven mitzvos to all people, and 613 mitzvos to the Jewish people, along with seven more mitzvos received through tradition—a total of 620 mitzvos. The Creator’s commandments,” the Maharal said, “fall into two categories: a. things He commanded us to do; b. things He warned us not to do. To observe the mitzvos, we must know and be proficient in various fields of knowledge: mathematics, to determine the beginnings of the months and the dates of the festivals; botany and the natural sciences, for questions concerning the kashrus of food; and knowledge of the human mind, in order to acquire noble character traits

21:01 and, above all, to understand as much as the human mind can grasp of the Creator, blessed be He, Who gives life to all creation as the soul gives life to the body. The difference is that the soul gives life to the body but does not create it, whereas the Creator, blessed be He, created everything and gives it life. Thus, the first step toward an intellectual understanding of the most subtle concepts in the study of the Divine is knowledge of the human soul.