October 9, 2008
Once, during the Ten Days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, a simple hasid, a disciple of the famous Rebbe Yisrael Baal Shem Tov (founder of the hasidic movement), asked his master two questions. First: What is the most fitting request to make of the Almighty during this period when we are taught to “…seek out God when He is most available.” Since the Bible promises that on this day of Yom Kippur “you shall be forgiven of all your sins…before God shall you be purified,” it seems superfluous to ask for divine forgiveness. So should we ask for another year of life, a year of good health, a job that will pay a good salary, “nachas” from our children? After all, we don’t want to bombard the Almighty with too many requests lest He see us as spoiled and demanding children.
The second question: Why does Sukkot arrive only four days after Yom Kippur? Is it fair or reasonable that after we get up, exhausted, from our fasting that we must so soon build and decorate the booth? Why doesn’t God leave us a little breathing space between Yom Kippur and Sukkot?
The Baal Shem Tov sent the hasid to the neighboring town of Yampol to seek out Rav Yehiel Mikhal of Zlotchov. “Send him my regards, stay with him a while, and you will receive the answer to your questions.”
Arriving at Yampol, the disciple inquired as to the whereabouts of Rav Yehiel Mikhal and was greeted with strange looks from everyone he approached. A man offered the hasid the following explanation: “Yehiel Mikhal is a holy man but a peculiar kind of Jew. He studies the holy Zohar all day, rarely looking up from the sacred text. He prays vehemently and even violently, hitting his head against the wall. But despite his prayers, he is very poor, to the extent that there is usually no food in his house. The door is always open, a chair always set out for wayfarers. A visitor sits in the room for about an hour, when Reb Yehiel Mikhal manages to scrape up a meal. You are welcome to visit him, and it’s even beneficial because when he feeds his guest, he remembers to eat something himself….”
The perplexed hasid was directed to the hovel of Yehiel Mikhal, opened the door, and found the waiting chair. After about an hour, Reb Yehiel removed a volume from the bookcase, and left. After a while, he returned without the book. Apparently he had sold it or traded it for some herring and a loaf of bread. He invited his guest to eat, and took a morsel of food for himself.
As the meager meal progressed, the hasid asked his host — whom he had seen in fervent prayer — why he didn’t pray for such basics as food, for a real home instead of a hovel, for a family.
Yehiel Mikhal smiled. “Such prayers are meaningless, even arrogant. Let me give you an analogy. You are invited to the wedding of the year; the king is about to marry his beloved bride, and the entire populace is celebrating. The fancy invitation even includes the menu, listing delectable course after delectable course.
“But alas, the young bride falls ill and tragically dies barely an hour before the ceremony is to take place. Most of the guests already at the palace quietly and tearfully return to their homes. One individual remains, however. He goes to the royal chef, points to the invitation in his hand, and requests each of the promised courses. Can you imagine how disappointed the king must be in that individual? In the wake of the canceled wedding, how could the guest even think about the nuptial dinner menu?
“And so it is with us,” concluded Yehiel Mikhal. “We are in exile; our king is in exile; the sacred marriage between God and Israel has been at best postponed. Shall we request to partake of the wedding feast? We can only pray for the wedding to take place as soon as possible.”
When the disciple reported back to Rebbe Yisrael Baal Shem Tov, the master added the following to the words of the holy Rav Yehiel Mikhal:
“On Rosh Hashana we pray that God be proclaimed king over the entire world, that the sacred marriage, which will bring unity to the world, shall come about immediately. On Yom Kippur we are transported to the Holy Temple, the nuptial canopy; the high priest proclaims everyone purified; we hear the triumphant shofar of the Almighty; and we cry out: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one, blessed be the name of his glorious kingdom forever….’
“But alas, this is all a glorious dream, not yet a reality. And so immediately after we awaken from the dream, with the blast of the shofar, we must build our modest sukka, symbol of the exile of the divine presence, move into that sukka with our family, and pray that the merciful One reestablish the fallen tabernacle of King David and transform our small sukka into the eternal Temple. At that time, all nations will flock to attend the sacred marriage of the divine and the redemption of all humanity.”
The hasid had received the answers to all his questions.
Shlomo Riskin is the chief rabbi of the city of Efrat and dean of Ohr Torah Institutes in Israel.
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