A Merciful God

REB LEVI YITZHAK OF BERDITCHEV is one of the most celebrated and beloved of all Hasidic Rebbes. Though possessed of a luminous intelligence, the Berditchever had no attachment to his great intellectual abilities. If he could have sold those gifts to buy a pure heart and justice for his people, he surely would have. However, thank God, he was never asked to make such a bargain, for his brilliant mind was put into the service of his pure heart and the result was a legacy of the utmost holiness and compassion. Thus, this genius of Torah is generally considered the warmest and most accessible of the Hasidic Rebbes.

On the day Reb Levi Yitzhak was born, the Ba’al Shem Tov called his disciples to a celebration. The disciples all rejoiced, eating and drinking with the master, but no one knew the reason for their joy. Finally, the Ba’al Shem Tov explained, “Today, a holy soul has entered the world, a soul who will stand up and defend all of Yisra’el.”1

His father, Rabbi Meir, a noted talmudist and kabbalist, was the Rav of Husakov, Galicia, and was descended from a long line of rabbis. His mother Sarah was known for her piety and wisdom, and was likewise of distinguished lineage, being descended from the famous commentator on the Talmud, Rabbi Shmuel Edels (1555-1631). Being raised in this atmosphere of piety, studying Talmud and Codes with his learned father, Reb Levi Yitzhak’s own gifts soon began to shine and he was sent to continue his education in Yaroslav, where he became known as “the genius of Yaroslav.”2

At seventeen, Levi Yitzhak was “acquired” as a son-in-law by Yisra’el Peretz (one of the primary supporters of the yeshivah of Libertov) for his daughter, Perl. For, in Eastern Europe at that time, wealthy fathers were known to seek brilliant and pious young scholars as husbands for their daughters. Therefore, thanks to his father-in-law’s support, Levi Yitzhak was freed to continue and deepen in his studies of Talmud and the Kabbalah. Nevertheless, and much to his new father-in-law’s chagrin, another interest was beginning to take hold of Levi Yitzhak.

Near to Libertov was the town of Ritchovol, where the great scholar, Shmuel Shmelke Horowitz (later of Nikolsburg) was the head of the beit din and the yeshivah. Levi Yitzhak implored his father-in-law to give him leave to study under the great man in Ritchovol, but his father-in-law objected. It is possible that Reb Shmelke’s association with the Hasidic movement and the Maggid of Mezritch was the reason for Yisra’el Peretz’s objection. Still, Levi Yitzhak fasted in protest until his father-in-law finally relented. Having obtained permission, he then traveled to Ritchovol where he was introduced to the way of Hasidism by Reb Shmelke. It is likely that Reb Shmelke then took the brilliant young man to Mezritch to introduce him to the Maggid personally.

Divine Games

There is no tradition of Reb Levi Yitzhak’s first meeting with the Maggid of Mezritch, but we do have a wonderful record of a personal conversation between the Rebbe and his young Hasid as it was preserved in Reb Levi Yitzhak’s journal . . .

I asked my Rebbe (the Maggid of Mezritch) if playing “games” or “practical jokes” (sha’shu’im) was the same as lying. He responded . . . “Practical jokes can be true; for God commanded Avraham to offer Yitzhak up, but had no intention of letting him be slaughtered—only to be ‘offered’ or ‘raised’ up in exaltation. (Gen. 22:2)3 Avraham, however, in preparing the offering did not realize that a practical joke was being played on him.”

This is so wonderful, for how often do we get to hear the kinds of questions the great disciples asked the Rebbes, to see what they were working on, and what they were struggling with? Of course, one could see the young Reb Levi Yitzhak asking these questions and looking for confirmation about the sin of “foolish games” and “practical jokes,” but when one considers the creative dialogues he would later have with God and his fellow Jews, it is hard to ignore the natural sense of humor he must have had. Thus, I hear in this question a young man who is concerned about his own natural tendencies toward laughter in the face of the stern and ascetic Kabbalah he had certainly studied prior to coming to Mezritch. This makes the answer of the Maggid all the more wonderful, because with it, he is able to validate his Hasid in being who he really is.

The sense of joy and fun that must of reigned in Mezritch, especially among the younger disciples, is something that is left out of most of the tales, probably because these stories were not considered especially edifying. But joy is one of the foundations of Hasidism, and the fun of many farbrengens (Hasidic celebratory gatherings) is a perennial feature of Hasidism. Even as a Hasid of the so-called “serious” HaBaD-Lubavitcher Hasidim we had fun, and this has been true of the other Hasidim I have celebrated with in New York and Israel. Indeed, it was this sense of fun (out of its proper context) that led the early Hasidim into clashes with the Mitnaggedim (“opponents” of Hasidism) in Lithuania, where the Hasidim of Ahron of Karlin and Avraham of Kalisk were known to be turning cartwheels in the streets! This raucous behavior led to criticism from the authorities, and even the Maggid reprimanded these Hasidim. This backlash from the society at-large may be one reason we do not have more of the joy of Hasidic gatherings preserved in the literature.

Reb Levi Yitzhak then continues his dialogue with the Maggid . . .

I then raised another question . . . “When a father reduces and compresses (metzamtzem) his thought into the ‘smallness’ needed to communicate with his child, surely this is not the truth?” And he (the Maggid) answered, “‘And God descended on Mount Sinai.’ (Exod. 19:18) But was it not so from the beginning, for there is no space empty of God?4 Is not the whole world filled by God’s Glory? (Isa. 6:3) However, in order that God should manifest in the experienced and felt world is what is meant by ‘descended’—that is, to our level of experience.”

It seems to me that this is the truth—that God’s truth was disclosed in all the Worlds.5

So Reb Levi Yitzhak ends with this resolution at the end, “God’s truth was disclosed in all the Worlds,” meaning that there is truth even in games and pretending, as well as in the scaling down of knowledge for particular ears. It is interesting too that he even brings the Maggid’s well-worn analogy of the parent and child back to him as part of his own question, as if he was not certain that he had really understood what the Maggid had meant, saying, “surely this is not the truth?”

A Hasid for a Son-in-Law

As far as his father-in-law could tell, the decision to allow Reb Levi Yitzhak to study with the Hasidim was having no good results. He thought he was bringing home one of the most promising minds of the age, and he got a Hasid instead . . .

Until Reb Levi Yitzhak began to frequent the tish of the Maggid of Mezritch, he was much admired for his talents and considered a particularly fine feather in the cap of his father-in-law in Libertov. But after his visits to Mezritch began, so did the talk that Yisra’el Peretz’ brilliant son-in-law was becoming a ne’er-do-well Hasid. Nevertheless, as he was still among the most prominent members of the community, they honored him by asking his son-in-law, Reb Levi Yitzhak to recite the passage, Attah ha-Reita, “Unto you it was shown . . .” (Deut. 4:35)6 before the congregation on Simhat Torah.

Thus, Reb Levi Yitzhak ascended the bimah to recite the passage on Simhat Torah. But, even as he did so, he appeared to be absorbed in thought, and so long did he stand there silence that the entire congregation started to squirm in their seats. Finally, he reached for his tallit to begin, but immediately laid it down again, continuing his silent absorption. The congregation began to murmur. Worse still, the other heads of the community whispered to his much embarrassed father-in-law to urge him to begin. He then called a servant to deliver a terse message to Reb Levi Yitzhak.

After the message had been delivered, Reb Levi Yitzhak said, "Alright," and reached for his tallit once more. But just as it brushed his shoulders, he drew it off again! His father-in-law reddened with shame and anger, burying his head in his hands. But just then, Reb Levi Yitzhak’s voice broke the terrible silence—“If you know the words, and you are such a Hasid, then you recite it!”

He left the bimah and returned to his place among the congregation who watched in stunned silence. His father-in-law seethed, but said nothing.

When they were at home afterward, and Levi Yitzhak sat at the table eating happily as if nothing had happened, his father-in-law was unable to contain himself and lashed out, “What were you doing up there? Why have you brought this disgrace upon me?!”

Reb Levi Yitzhak gazed at his father-in-law with sudden understanding. He now recognized how his behavior must have seemed, and explained . . .

“My honored father-in-law, I did not mean to disgrace you.

“When I reached for my tallit in the beginning, the yetzer ha-ra, the evil inclination whispered to me, ‘I wish to recite the Attah ha-Reita with you!’

“I asked, ‘Who are you that you should think yourself worthy of this honor?’

“The yetzer ha-ra replied, ‘And who are you that you should think yourself worthy of this honor?’

“I said proudly, ‘I know the passage and its meanings.’

“But it merely said, ‘And so do I.”

“So I asked it, ‘Where did you study then?’

“‘Where did you study?’ it shot back.

“I told it that I had studied ‘with my honored father, then in Yaroslav, then with the great Shmelke Horowitz in Ritchovol, and now with the light of our generation, Dov Baer, the Maggid of Mezritch!’

“Thinking that this would end this annoying dialogue—just at the point your message reached me—I reached for my tallit again.

“Then the yetzer ha-ra said slyly, ‘And I was there with you in Husakov, Yaroslav, Ritchovol . . . and in Mezritch!’

This last comment stunned me and I put my tallit down again, protesting, 'I am a Hasid of the Maggid of Mezritch!’

“‘And so am I. I became one at the same time you did, and now I want to recite the Attah ha-Reita with you!’

“But now I knew him, and I had had enough, so I said aloud, ‘If you know the words, and you are such a Hasid, then you recite it!” and I left him to it.”7

The realization that the yetzer ha-ra follows us everywhere we go—stowing itself away in our subtle, subconscious motives—is among the most important realizations that a Hasid must deal with. In this story, Reb Levi Yitzhak handles it in the only way one can, by sacrifice. He sacrificed his own honor in the face of the congregation to serve God in purity, giving up all of his hidden motives in a single moment without explanation. But as he recognized that his father-in-law had been shamed by this, and may have even thought that the last comment was aimed at him, Reb Levi Yitzhak felt it necessary to explain the truth to him.

On another occasion his father-in-law said to him, “Levi Yitzhak, I am prepared to forgive all of this foolishness, if will only tell me what you have learned with this Maggid that is so special.”

Reb Levi Yitzhak replied after a moment, “That there is a God in Heaven who created the world.”

His father-in-law scoffed and said, “Who doesn’t know that?” Then he called for the maid and asked her, “Do you know who created the world?”

“God in Heaven!” she replied, surprised at being asked such a question.

But Reb Levi Yitzhak said, “Yes, anyone can say this, but only one who has learned from the mouth of the Great Maggid can know it (Zi redt un ich vayss).”8

Wisdom Maketh the Face to Shine

The following account illustrates precisely what Reb Levi Yitzhak was trying to get across to his father-in-law. Here he tells us of a significant encounter with the Maggid in which no words were spoken, but in which much was communicated . . .

One year, the holiday of Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbat, when it is forbidden to blow the shofar, announcing the New Year. On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, when it was permitted, the time came for the shofar and the Maggid was not well enough to blow it himself, and someone else blew in his place.

When the time for Minhah, the afternoon prayer arrived, my teacher arose to pray, and his words were as a Divine conflagration of fire. It was always thus with him at Minhah.

When I saw this, I went to stand and pray near the window where my teacher always prayed. After he had completed the Amidah, he would pace back and forth for a few moments and go over to the window. At that moment, he slowly turned away from the wall before which he had been praying, and I suddenly beheld his face, which was lit with glory and a scintillating spectrum of heavenly light! A holy awe fell upon me and I stumbled backward, reaching out for support, and was caught by friends who could not understand the reason for my fall.

My teacher noticed this and turned his face back to the wall, resting his head there for several minutes. When he looked up from the wall again there was no trace of the former visage.

I did not see such splendor as this again until the time of my master’s passing. It was only from that splendor of light and majesty that shone upon his face that I was truly able to understand his Torah.9

Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi was said to be fond of the verse, “wisdom maketh the face to shine,” (Eccles. 8:1)10 and one can certainly understand why if he had ever himself seen the Maggid’s face in this state. This transformative moment for Reb Levi Yitzhak reminds us of the famous moment when the Maggid himself experienced the mamash quality of the lights and Angelic beings in the Ba’al Shem Tov’s presence, bringing the words of Torah to life. Similarly, the Berditchever Rav tells us, “It was only from that splendor of light and majesty that shone upon his face that I was truly able to understand his Torah.”11

The Troubles of the Tzaddik

After a while, the financial fortunes of his father-in-law changed drastically and Reb Levi Yitzhak set out on the road to gather money for his recovery. He then sought and obtained a post as rabbi in Ritchovol, a position lately abandoned by his teacher and friend, Reb Shmelke of Nikolsburg. Nevertheless, he was forced to leave Ritchovol because of anti-Hasidic pressures from the Mitnaggedim, fleeing on Sukkot with lulav and etrog in hand! Another post in Zhelikoff went much better for him and he made many positive changes in the community, but was eventually forced to leave there as well. Worst of all was his terrible treatment in Pinsk, where he was again run out of town, this time with the support of the Ga’on of Vilna. It was only after he settled in Berditchev that he at last found a peaceful home.

The holy Ba’al Shem Tov had this to say to his disciples on the day Reb Levi Yitzhak was born . . .

“Today, a holy soul has entered the world, a soul who will stand up and defend all of Yisra’el. I tell you, this event has caused an uproar in the Heavenly Assembly, as Satan was terribly shaken by this news and came to complain before the Throne, saying . . .

“‘I am aware of a new soul in the world who will be a kind and fierce defender of the people. I can see that he will also be a great Torah scholar and his prayer will be like that of Rabbi Akiva, who never completed his davenen in the same corner he began. Ribbono shel Olam, this soul will cleanse the hearts of an entire generation and all my labors will be in vain.’

“Then the blessed and holy One answered Satan, ‘Do not upset yourself, this soul will not have so much time to cleanse hearts, after all, he will be a rabbi in Yisra’el.”12

There is something so true in this anecdote, for it is hard to think of any Rebbe whose commitment to compassionate action and social justice was as complete as Reb Levi Yitzhak’s, and yet, few if any of the disciples of the Maggid of Mezritch encountered as much resistance and persecution as Reb Levi Yitzhak in his early years. In one famous prayer, Reb Levi Yitzhak says, “Ribbono shel Olam, I do not ask that You reveal the secrets of Your ways—I could not comprehend them. I do not ask why it is that I suffer, only tell me, do I suffer for Your sake?”

Levi Yitzhak, the Merciful

Like the holy Ba’al Shem Tov, Reb Levi Yitzhak also had a government issued last name. In that time, very few Jews had surnames, being known mostly by their own and their parent’s names (for instance, Yisra’el ben Eliezer and Levi Yitzhak ben Meir). So when the civil authorities came around and required a surname for public records, they were forced to come up with something. When the Ba’al Shem Tov was asked his last name, he responded, “Tallismacher,” explaining to his disciples later, “After all, what do I do but make a tallit for all Yisra’el.”

One day, a public official knocked at the door of Reb Levi Yitzhak’s home and made him aware of the king’s decree that everyone in the realm must have a last name. Then he shot out a question that sounded more like a command, “Last name?” Reb Levi Yitzhak looked Heavenward and said, “Derbaramdiger, ‘merciful’ God, what kind of name should I have? How should I be known? Is it not said, ‘As God is merciful, so shall you be merciful’?”13 But as Reb Levi Yitzhak continued his dialogue with God, the official merely took out his note-book and wrote down the first word Reb Levi Yitzhak had uttered, “Derbaramdiger, Merciful,” and promptly left the house.14

Of course there could be no more suitable name for such a soul as Reb Levi Yitzhak’s— “merciful.” We are taught that when Adam named all of God’s creatures in the beginning, he did not name them randomly, but according to their essence; the name and the essence were one.

The Head and Heels

Now we will begin to look at the Torah of Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, which was truly in harmony with his own life and service to God. This is true of most of the Hasidic Rebbes, but it seems to be especially so with Reb Levi Yitzhak. For the sacred anecdotes that are told of his life seem like practical illustrations of what he advocates in his teaching. The teachings of course were much more sophisticated, but almost always put a compassionate frame around God’s Creation (especially as regards human beings). These teachings are primarily drawn from his book Kedushat Levi, originally published in Slavita in 1788.

There is a person who serves the blessed Creator and becomes aware of the Divine Oneness through digging deeply with the mind, coming to an understanding of God’s undivided Divinity through mental rigor. But there is another person who serves the blessed Creator and understands the Divine Oneness through active faith in the reality of God who creates all things and does not spend any time digging with reason. Ha-klal15—therefore, deriving from the general rule—just as a person has a head, a torso, and heels, so too is Divine service accomplished with the head, the torso, and the heels.

The “head” is the service of one who digs with the mind and comes to understand that there is indeed a God in the world, and that God is truly One. The “heels” refer to the service of faith, because it is on the ground level, at the end of the rungs. But what is the service of the “torso” then? This is connected to the “arms” of the torso that point to the love of the Creator and indicate from whence the love is derived. Sometimes they reach up to the head, which means that the love one has for the Creator is influenced by the mind. While at other times the arms are below, meaning that the love of God comes from simple faith. So the arms may point to a love and understanding of the Divine Oneness and the goodness of God coming from the “head” or the “heels.” But if one really wishes to be in palpable contact with the Oneness of God, serving in the most desirable way, one should do it through an active faith.16

This is a teaching that shows us the difference between what are sometimes spoken of as HaGaT and HaBaD Hasidism. HaBaD stands for Hokhmah (“wisdom”), Binah (“understanding”), and Da’at (“knowledge”), in other words, the upper Sefirot or Divine attributes dealing with mentation. Whereas HaGaT stands for Hesed (“loving-kindness”), Gevurah (“strength”), and Tiferet (“beauty”), the emotional attributes of Divinity.

HaBaD Hasidism asks the question, “What do you do when you are not feeling particularly connected, or worse, when you are under a malaise, feeling dull in the head and heart? The emotion of love simply is not available and needs to be awakened somehow. This can be accomplished by using the mind (in profound contemplation) until it begins to stir the feelings that are dormant in the heart. This approach is almost exclusively associated with Reb Levi Yitzhak’s close friend, Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi and his heirs who identify themselves as HaBaD Hasidim. However, there are other Hasidic Rebbes who could also be said to be emphasize a HaBaD-type approach that is not based on the system of Reb Shneur Zalman, for it is really a matter of temperament and the need of the specific individual.17

Nevertheless, Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev says, while both of these approaches exist and are necessary—as he must have seen in Mezritch—the way of HaGaT Hasidism and simple faith is preferable to the digging of the mind.18 This is what the “arms” in his teaching tell us, for the arms in their natural resting state, as well as in most activities are usually below the head. It is only in the extraordinary situation that we put them above the head, because of the great effort involved in this action.

His friend, Reb Shneur Zalman does not disagree, but finds that a faith that has not been considered with the mind first, or even attempted to struggle with an idea, tends to be a weak faith. But Reb Shneur Zalman was a “Litvak,” serving the intellectuals of Lithuania who prized knowledge above all else. So not only was this approach natural to him (as perhaps the most intellectual of all the Maggid’s disciples), but necessary for talking to the intellectuals whom he served, opening their hearts by first going through the mind. Reb Levi Yitzhak, on the other hand, was the genius (as we said before) who was ready to trade his intellect for love and purity, and served a congregation that was much less rigorous about intellectual achievement. Thus he favored the approach of simple faith.

The Darkened Shell

So how did Reb Levi Yitzhak break the shell over the hardened heart if not with the mind, as was necessary for Reb Shneur Zalman and the heady Lithuanians? Because of the great love and friendship between Reb Shneur Zalman and Reb Levi Yitzhak, there are many tales of the Berditchever Rav preserved in the HaBaD-Lubavitch oral tradition, including this one which is usually called “the Shvartze Kelippah” (the black shell, or demon) among HaBaD Hasidim, and which was told by my Rebbe, Yosef Yitzhak of Lubavitch, of blessed memory . . .

Early one morning, Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev called three of his close disciples and said, “Prepare for a journey.” Shortly thereafter they climbed into the carriage and were off. They traveled fast, faster than the disciples were comfortable with, but no one dared to say anything or even to ask where they were going, as it was clear that the Rebbe had some definite purpose in mind. During the journey, he only permitted them one short stop to say tehillim before setting out again at the same pace.

Finally, as evening approached, the carriage slowed to a stop in front of a house near a great estate. The house obviously belonged to the land agent of the estate, and from within they could hear the bark of a large dog. Now it turned out that the land agent was a notorious hater of Jews and had trained his enormous black dog to attack Jews on command. Alerted by the dog’s barking, the land agent looked out of his window and saw by their dress that it was a carriage full of Jews. He immediately opened the door of the house to let his dog out to harass them and he emerged just after carrying a loaded pistol.

He was a fierce looking man with murderous rage in his eyes and Reb Levi Yizhak’s disciples were terrified. After all, there was no law that was going to prevent this man from murdering them right then and there. Over the barking and growls of the black dog, they heard the man yelling at them, “Get off of my property before I put a shot through your head!”

Reb Levi Yitzhak seemed unperturbed and leaned out of the window with his calm face shinning and said, “Sir, we are Jews on a journey and only wish to stop for our evening prayers.” As the disciples expected, this sent the land agent into a fury and he pointed the pistol at Reb Levi Yitzhak’s calm face and fired . . . only it didn’t fire . . . There was only the snap of the hammer making contact. The land agent looked at the pistol curiously—turning it sideways as if to ask it what had happened—when all of a sudden it went off! To his horror he found that he had killed his own dog.

Reb Levi Yitzhak told one of his disciples to exit the carriage now and to repeat his request to the land agent. With trepidation, the disciple got down and walked over to the agent and stammered, “Sir, we are Hasidim traveling with the holy Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev; it is time for our evening prayers and we would like to ask your kind permission to pray in your house.”

The land agent only looked stunned, staring absently in the direction of his beloved dog. He mouthed the words, “The Rabbi of Berditchev” slowly. A distant echo of recognition entered his mind, “The famous holy man of Berditchev.” Still staring past the disciple, he managed to say as if in a dream, “You have my permission; please come into the house.”

The man turned to walk back toward his house and the disciple walked back to the carriage cautiously (not wanting to turn his back on the man) to convey the land agent’s unexpected consent to the Rebbe. The disciples were perplexed by this turn of events, perhaps even more so than they had been by the journey and the threat of violence from the land agent and his dog. The land agent was no less confused by what had happened. The pistol was clean and in good order; what had happened? Could it have been the power of this holy man?

The news that the famed Rabbi of Berditchev was going to say his evening prayers at the house of the land agent traveled fast, and curiosity quickly overcame their fear of the land agent. Obviously, they thought, something extraordinary must have happened. Soon there was a large gathering at the house to pray with Reb Levi Yitzhak, and the land agent merely sat back in confused silence at the scene unfolding in his home.

Then Reb Levi Yitzhak began the evening prayers with Shir ha-Ma’alot, but when he reached the words, “Merciful One, forgive our sins, and do not arouse Your anger,” (Ps. 78:38) the Rebbe stopped and began to sing a haunting niggun that moved everyone who listened to it . . .

Somehow the niggun, though wordless, communicated a message to each and everyone there. It seemed to begin with a tragic statement about life, as if saying . . . “Yes, life us takes us all into dark places. How could we be happy about that? But this is how it is; there must be a deeper reason.” Then, as the niggun continued, it began to describe the regret and folly of our lives, seeming to say, “But this is not who we wanted to be.” Then a growing hope began to build in its ascending phrases, until finally the Rebbe lifted his arms to Heaven and the melody reached a crescendo of poignant joy and pain all at once! Everyone was transported to the purifying waters Above; if only they could have lingered there! But the niggun was already descending with a sigh, gently rocking them back to the Earth, comforted, and yet still longing for the regions of forgiveness and healing they were permitted to taste. Finally, the niggun receded into silence for minutes before Reb Levi Yitzhak called out, “O God, save us! O Sovereign, answer us on the day we call out to You!” (Ps. 20:10)

At that very moment, the land agent who had been completely absorbed in the melody fell down in a faint and was carried to a quiet corner of the house.

After the prayers were over, the land agent asked to speak with Reb Levi Yitzhak in private. He told him, “I was born in Germany to Jewish parents, but when I was a young man I joined the Kaiser’s army. The higher I rose in rank, the looser my ties to Judaism became, for the more I was held in awe by the soldiers under me, the less awe I felt for God. By the time I was appointed to be a personal guard of the Kaiser, I was no longer even a Jew. Worse still, I had learned to despise Jews and to persecute them, and this I have done until this very day!”

These last words he uttered with reddened eyes and a tear-streaked face. What the Rebbe said to him then remained a secret.

When he came out from his meeting with the Rebbe, he walked over to the disciples and took their hands warmly, saying a long unused, “Shalom aleikhem—I too am a Jew,” and he told them his story and begged their forgiveness. He then borrowed a tallit and tefillin and they helped to reacquaint him with the prayers.

When Reb Levi Yitzhak and his disciples got back into the carriage, he warned the disciples not to speak about this journey to anyone. A short time later, the land agent quit the estate and sold all his possessions. No one in that area ever heard from him again. But around the same time, a stranger came to live and study in Berditchev, becoming a close disciple of Reb Levi Yitzhak and the founder of a prominent Jewish family in Berditchev.

Reb Levi Yitzhak had reached into the very heart of compassion, gently cleansing the land agent’s soul of all the accretions of pride and anger, pain and regret until it was finally ready to embrace God once again in Love and Awe.

Whole-Hearted Prayer

This brings us to Reb Levi Yitzhak’s prayer. It is so clear from the preceding ma’aseh that deep prayer can be as transformative for the one praying as for those who are tuning in to the same frequency. This is what Reb Avraham Yehoshua Heshel of Apt meant when he said, “Prayer can only be learned from a praying person.”

Your prayer may be considered good when you sing praises to the Creator with your entire heart. That is to say, while bringing yirah, holy awe, together with deveikut, adhering to God, abandoning all mahshavot zarot, extrinsic thoughts, and constellating all of your kavanah, intention, around the giving of joy to your Maker, arousing and placing all of the energy of your body, speech and mind in that one service, until even your bones are praying!19

You should find every opportunity to say to God, “O how compassionate You are my God! How good and kind You are to me!” For when you do this it is impossible not to be touched by the very same attributes. That is to say, because your mental focus and energy are flowing into these Divine Attributes (middot), these same attributes are catalyzed in you, causing you to be, for instance, good to people in general and kind to the poor. Therefore, choose your own ideals of virtue and praise God with them. Then you will not forsake those virtues in your own life, because in the moment of concentrated fervor, when you are attributing these virtues to God, you are attuning to their Divine virtues (middot), and their light and beauty will be released into your own being. Thus you will be bound by mighty ropes of love to the Creator and to the positive attributes of compassion, gentleness and kindness. Then, if you will ask something from God while in this state, how could you not get a good answer?20

After hearing this holy Torah, it only seems appropriate to say, ha-klal—Reb Levi Yitzhak’s chosen phrase for framing his point—because this seems to be the summary of all his teaching and all the stories that are told about him. First he deals with the preliminaries of prayer in which one invests one’s entire being—engaging both a sense of the mysterium tremendum and the mysterium fascinans—getting all the fibers of one’s being to vibrate with the desire to give pleasure to God, to take God into the place of feeling good. Then one begins to praise God with all of those attributes we most admire, and most desire to see activated in our own life. For this is how Reb Levi Yitzhak deals with the notion of “The Tzaddik decrees and the holy One fulfills.”21 For through this kind of fervor and energy in prayer, we can open a connection between the Divine and the human. Through this we may stimulate a response from God above, which in turn, touches us here below. It is an open connection going both ways . . . the one who touches is touched. We become what we seek. Reb Levi Yitzhak took seriously the words in Torah that say, “Be you holy as I am holy.” (Lev. 11:44)

Spiritual Audacity

One day, my wife Eve, a talented practitioner of guided imagery exercises, took me on an imaginal journey that ended up at the grave of Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev. She did not take me there, but that is where I ended up. I recognized it because I had been there before on a pilgrimage to the burial sites of the Rebbes in 2005. As I entered the building in my imagination, the cover lifted from the grave and Reb Levi Yitzhak emerged from within. He seemed tall and his eyes were kind. He bid me welcome with a Shalom aleikhem, and I took the opportunity to ask him a question . . . “How might I connect to the kavanah and deveikut you felt as you sang your famous song, ‘To the East is You; to the West is You . . .’” Basically, I was asking him how I could encounter the Divine Presence in a palpable way. Reb Levi Yitzhak replied, Vart nisht oif kine kovved, “Don’t wait for an invitation,” which meant, don’t wait around for it to happen, or even until you have committed yourself to the Presence—just move ahead. Reb Levi Yitzhak was the humblest of men, but in his service to God, his motto was to be bold!

One has to recognize just how precious one’s service is to God. A person must in many ways be humble in all that one does, but if someone were to tell me that I should also be humble in the service of God . . . God forbid it! On the contrary, a person has to say, “The acts that I am doing, fulfilling the mitzvot, are so precious to our blessed Creator, who takes such delight in them! If I were to be humble about them, saying, ‘Of what worth is my service to God?’ that would be nothing less than heresy!”22

There is a sense in which the world stands on this activity—on my next mitzvah, on the next word of my prayer—and that is what Reb Levi Yitzhak is getting into here. I am reminded of an encounter that the Swiss psychologist, Carl Jung (1875-1961) had with a Native American elder called Mountain Lake in New Mexico. I find it so relevant to this discussion that I would like to quote it in full and leave it to you to ponder . . .

“What we do, we do not only for ourselves but . . . for the whole world. Everyone benefits by it.”

I could observe from his excitement that he was alluding to some extremely important element of his religion. I therefore asked him: "You think, then, that what you do in your religion benefits the whole world?" He replied with great animation, “Of course. If we did not do it, what would become of the world?”And with a significant gesture he pointed to the sun.

I felt that we were approaching extremely delicate ground here, verging on the mysteries of the tribe. "After all," he said, "we are a people who live on the roof of the world; we are the sons of Father Sun, and with our religion we daily help our father to go across the sky. We do this not only for ourselves, but for the whole world. If we were to cease practicing our religion, in ten years the sun would no longer rise. Then it would be night forever."

I then realized on what the "dignity," the tranquil composure of the individual Indian, was founded. It springs from his being a son of the sun; his life is cosmologically meaningful, for he helps the father and preserver of all life in his daily rise and descent. If we set against this our own self-justifications, the meaning of our own lives as it is formulated by our reason, we
cannot help but see our poverty. Out of sheer envy we are obliged to smile at the Indians' naivete and to plume ourselves on our cleverness; for otherwise we would discover how impoverished and down at the heels we are. Knowledge does not enrich us; it removes us more and more from the mythic world in which we were once at home by right of birth.

If for a moment we put away all European rationalism and transport ourselves into the clear mountain air of that solitary plateau, which drops off on one side into the broad continental prairies and on the other into the Pacific Ocean; if we also set aside our intimate knowledge of the world and exchange it for a horizon that seems immeasurable, and an ignorance of what lies beyond it, we will begin to achieve an inner comprehension of the Pueblo Indian's point of view. "All life comes from the mountain" is immediately convincing to him, and he is equally certain that he lives upon the roof of an immeasurable world, closest to God. He above all others has the Divinity's ear, and his ritual act will reach the distant sun soonest of all. The holiness of mountains, the revelation of [Y-H-V-H] upon Sinai, the inspiration that Nietzsche was vouchsafed in the Engadine—all speak the same language. The idea, absurd to us, that a ritual act can magically affect the sun is, upon closer examination, no less irrational but far more familiar to us than might at first be assumed. Our Christian religion—like every other, incidentally—is permeated by the idea that special acts or a special kind of action can influence God—for example, through certain rites or by prayer, or by a morality pleasing to the Divinity.

The ritual acts of man are an answer and reaction to the action of God upon man; and perhaps they are not only that, but are also intended to be "activating," a form of magic coercion. That man feels capable of formulating valid replies to the over-powering influence of God, and that he can render back something which is essential even to God, induces pride, for it raises the human individual to the dignity of a metaphysical factor. "God and us"—even if it is only an unconscious sous-entendu [Fr., implied, understood by innuendo]—this equation no doubt underlies that enviable serenity of the Pueblo Indian. Such a man is in the fullest sense of the word in his proper place.23

The Advocate

This weight of human significance underlies every ma’aseh and teaching of Reb Levi Yitzhak, especially those in which he acts as an advocate for Jews with God, arguing for Divine justice in the tradition of Abraham. This is a favorite ma’aseh from this tradition . . .

One Pesah, Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev called two of his gabbaim, Leibel the Yellow and Leibel the Black, and said, “I cannot begin the seder until I have two things.” To Leibel the Yellow he said, “Go from house to house and bring me back as much smuggled Turkish tobacco as you can find.” To Leibel the Black he said, “Go out and find me a little hametz, a little leavened bread that I can use for a healing.” The gabbaim were astonished by these requests, but nevertheless, went out in search of tobacco and hametz to bring to the Rebbe.

After several hours, the first gabbai returns with two helpers carrying a load of Turkish tobacco. Shortly thereafter, the second gabbai returns empty-handed. Seeing this, Reb Levi Yitzhak turned his gaze to Heaven and said, “Ribbono shel Olam, do You see? The Czar has his soldiers posted every 100 yards with orders to ‘shoot-to-kill’ to prevent the smuggling of Turkish tobacco along the border, but You have no soldiers and have asked us not to have any hametz in our homes over Pesah, and you see there is none! Beloved Creator, is it not time that you relieved our misery and set us free from this Egypt!”

Then he began the seder.

For Reb Levi Yitzhak, this was no mere game to entertain his Hasidim, but a holy case he could bring before the court of the Heavenly Assembly, the tobacco and hametz his evidence. “Justice, Justice you shall pursue,” (Deut. 16:20) even with God. He did not do this in anger against God, but to bring down mercy for the people. God’s Wisdom is perfect, but the appearance does not seem perfect to us. What can we do? Someone must be an advocate for the people? Shouldn’t we also seek justice for the way things seem to us?

Look for Part II of this article in our next issue (N.M-Y., editor).

Notes for Part I

1. See Samuel H. Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev: Portrait of a Hasidic Master (New York: Hartmore House, 1974) 18 (Hereafter, Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev).

2. See Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, 18-19.

3. The Maggid chose to read the sentence, “God said, ‘Take your son up for a sacrifice,’ not ‘Go and sacrifice your son!’” This is a wonderful teaching, for this is always the issue about Divine guidance. What did you hear? When we hear God we must listen well and actively to discern the truth of what is being asked of us. Isn’t that what the word Shema means, to listen with focus? (A reading suggested by our colleague, Rabbi Bahir Davis). “And he said, ‘Take your son, your favored one, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you.’” — Genesis 22:2. JPS Hebrew-English TANAKH: The Traditional Hebrew Text and the New JPS Translation – Second Edition (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1999) 39. (Hereafter, JPS Hebrew-English TANAKH)

4. Tikkunei Zohar, 56: 91b.

5. We were unable to locate the original source from which this was translated in the mid-1980s.

6. “It has been clearly demonstrated to you that the LORD alone is God; there is none beside Him.’” — Deuteronomy 4:35. JPS Hebrew-English TANAKH, 385.

7. See Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: The Early Masters, trans. Olga Marx (New York: Schocken Books, 1947) 203-204 “He Who Was Also There.”

8. See Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, 22 . In Yiddish, “She says it; I know it,” Zeh rett un ich wisse.

9. Samuel Horodetzky, Ha-Hasidut V’ha-Hasidim, Vol. II (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1928) 74.

10. “A man’s wisdom lights up his face,’” — Ecclesiastes 8:1. JPS Hebrew-English TANAKH, 1776.

11. This recollection by Reb Levi Yitzhak also gives us a glimpse into the moment of the Maggid’s passing, as it was experienced by those who were present, his face being “lit with glory and a scintillating spectrum of Heavenly light!”

12. See Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, 34-35; the same point is made by Reb Elimelekh of Lizhensk about Reb Levi Yitzhak in Buber, Tales of the Hasidim I, 232 “Rabbi Elimelekh’s Answer.”

13. Talmud, Shabbat, 113b. Likewise, in the Gospel of Luke 6:36, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” The Precise Parallel New Testament, ed. John R. Kohlenberger III (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987) 335 NIV.

14. See Dresner, Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, 40; Buber, Tales of the Hasidim I, 221-222 “His Second Name.”

15. This is the phrase Reb Levi Yitzhak continually uses to introduce his points in Kedushat Levi.

16. Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, Kedushat Levi (Jerusalem: Torat HaNetzah, 1993) Parshat Ekev.

17. See Miles Krassen, Uniter of Heaven and Earth: Rabbi Meshullam Feibush Heller of Zbarazh and the Rise of Hasidism in Galicia (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1998).

18. And most of Hasidism and Hasidic Rebbes tend to agree.

19. “A person should pray with an enflamed fervor. But due to our grave sins, we have only small minds, and we cannot begin our prayers with this great conflagration of fervor. Its only when you begin to talk that the words take on a life of their own. Ah, but when Mashiah will come, we will be able to start right away with that fervor.” Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, Kedushat Levi (Jerusalem: Torat HaNetzah, 1993) Likkutim.

20. Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, Kedushat Levi (Jerusalem: Torat HaNetzah, 1993) Likkutim, Pirkei Avot, Perek 2.

21. Talmud, Shabbat, 59b.

22. Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, Kedushat Levi (Jerusalem: Torat HaNetzah, 1993) Parshat Ekev.

23. C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections: Revised Edition, ed. Aniela Jaffe, trans. Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1989) 252-253.

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The Holiness of Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev: Part I

BY ZALMAN SCHACHTER-SHALOMI & NETANEL MILES-YEPEZ

Courtesy: SPECTRUM - A Jornal of Renewal Spirituality