(Painting by Zvi Malnovitze r)
Otzar Nachmani, Vol. I, sec. 77
By Rabbi Nachman Burstein, zatzal
Translated by Dovid Sears (unedited)
[Rabbi Nachman Burstein writes:]
Rabbi Hirsch Leib Lippel told me that he heard from the Breslover Chassidim in Uman
the following wondrous story about the Baal Shem Tov, may his merits shield us.
During one of his holy journeys, the
Baal Shem Tov visited a certain village where he stayed with a simple Jewish peasant.
According to his holy way, the Baal Shem Tov arose at midnight (chatzos)
to begin his divine service. However, he saw that the villager too woke up from
sleep and took an old Siddur that was extremely thick (since it contained the
prayers of the entire year). He then recited everything in the Siddur, from
beginning to end, with all the blessings specific to Shabbos and Yom Tov, the
Days of Awe, Chanukah, Purim, all the blessings over food, continuing until the
break of dawn. This was the man’s practice every night.
When the Baal Shem Tov observed this,
he was extremely upset that such a whole-hearted Jew as this would recite so
many blessings in vain—which is a grave sin. Therefore, after the villager had
served him his morning bread (pas shacharis), and he had already decided
to depart and continue his journey, the Baal Shem Tov alerted the man
concerning the seriousness of the matter and the punishment that would await
him in the World to Come for reciting blessings in vain.
The village exclaimed, “Holy rebbe!
What can I do? I’m an am ha’aretz (ignoramus), because I never learned
anything beyond how to read Hebrew. I was orphaned as a child and had no one to
teach me. I only remembered that my father, may he rest in peace, used to pray
with this Siddur every day. So I follow his example and also pray from this
Siddur until the end, and I can’t tell the difference between one blessing and
another. But this way I feel that I have fulfilled my obligation as a Jew to
pray every day before our Father in Heaven. So it is that not only do I pray
with great effort, but I will be severely punished for doing so!”
When the Baal Shem Tov heard these heartfelt
words, he asked, “If I set up the order of the prayers for you, so that you’ll
know which are the weekday prayers and which are the Shabbos prayers, and so
forth, will you accept this from me and act accordingly?”
The villager replied with great joy,
“Absolutely! I will do everything you say, just as long as it saves me from the
severe punishment that’s coming to me!”
Therefore, the Baal Shem Tov told him
to bring him a bundle of straw. Then the Baal Shem Tov placed one short straw after
each section of the Siddur to indicate that here end the weekday prayers, here
end the Shabbos prayers, here end the Rosh Chodesh prayers; then he inserted a
longer straw to indicate that here end the Yom Tov prayers; and an even longer
one to indicate that here end the prayers for the Days of Awe, followed by still
longer straws for those of Chanukah, Purim, etc. The Baal Shem Tov reviewed all
this with the villager until the man understood which straw went along with
which prayer service. Now the villager was overjoyed that he knew how to daven
correctly, each prayer in its proper time frame. He thanked the Baal Shem Tov
profusely for his effort and for his instructions. Then the Baal Shem Tov went
his way.
However, it wasn’t long before all of
the villager’s joy ceased. For when he wished to put the Siddur back in its
place, all the straws suddenly fell to the floor. He was extremely broken over
this—for now he had no sign to distinguish between one prayer and another,
according to what the Baal Shem Tov had taught him.
He was deeply embittered by this
misfortune, because now he couldn’t daven at all, given what the Baal
Shem Tov had told him about the severe heavenly punishment for reciting
blessings in vain. So he was lost, without any advice. What could he do now
that he had a Siddur, but was forbidden to pray? How could he bear this?
In his anguish, he ran outside. Maybe
he could catch up to the Baal Shem Tov on the road. And in his great haste, he
came to the river and in dismay, saw from afar how the Baal Shem Tov cast his gartel
(cloth belt) on the water and crossed without a boat or ferry. So he began to scream
with all his might, “My father, my father! My teacher, my teacher! Save me, for
I’m such a wretch!”
But there was no sound or response;
the distance between them was too great, and his cries could not be heard. Therefore,
due to his great misery, he paid no heed to himself or to any danger, and did
the same thing as the Baal Shem Tov!
He took his
gartel and cast it across the surface of the water. Then he walked until
he neared the Baal Shem Tov, and began to call out to him about the fallen
straws. The Baal Shem Tov turned to face the man and saw him walking on his gartel.
With his ruach ha-kodesh (divine inspiration), he immediately saw that the
prayers the simple fellow had recited in truth and whole-heartedness, with no self-serving
motive but only for the sake of Heaven, made a great impression on high, to the
point that he too could perform a miracle by casting his gartel on the
river. Thus, he told him in reply, “If you are able to do the same thing as me,
go back home and keep praying as always!”
In
retelling this story, the Breslover Chasidim add what the Rebbe [Reb Nachman]
states in Chayei Moharan (sec. 520): how he envied a fellow known as
“Yoss’l Siddur,” who used to pray with a thick Siddur and recite all of the
supplications (techinos) and requests (bakashos) found therein. The
Rebbe envied that this sincere, devout Jew was able to recite many prayers and
requests with unselfconscious simplicity, and without any cleverness (“chokhmos”).
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