The holy Baal Shem Tov possessed the ability to see into a person’s soul. Just by looking at someone’s face, he knew all the sins that the person had committed. The Baal Shem Tov also possessed a powerful love for his fellow Jews, a genuine feeling of deep caring that caused him to ache when he realized the spiritual damage that they were inflicting upon themselves. With his trademark warmth, he sought to bring as many Jews as possible to teshuvah.

Our story takes place shortly before the Baal Shem Tov left the world. He was lying on his deathbed, ill and frail, surrounded by his closest disciples, who were sobbing quietly. Gathering his ebbing strength, the Baal Shem Tov began to give over his final instructions to his talmidim.

“You will be a rebbe,” the Baal Shem Tov said, pointing at one of them. “Go to such-and-such place, where they will accept  you as their rebbe, and you will bring those Jews closer to Hashem.”

“And your mission will be to ensure that the requirement of immersing in a mikvah is fulfilled,” the Baal Shem Tov said, pointing to another of his students. “You will ensure that the mikvaos are kosher, and that people understand the importance of the laws of purity.”

One by one, he entrusted his closest talmidim with a mission, a legacy that they would perpetuate after his passing.

“And what about me?” one of the men in the room, a close attendant of the Baal Shem Tov, whom we’ll call Pinchas, asked.

“Your mission, Pinchas, will be to travel around and say over stories of your teacher,” the Baal Shem Tov said, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. “You will inspire many people to teshuvah, and you will earn your parnasah as well.”

A few hours later, the Baal Shem Tov passed away. His talmidim were heartbroken, inconsolable, over their irreplaceable loss, and they knew that there would always be a giant hole in their hearts in the place that the Baal Shem Tov had so prominently occupied.

However, they had each been given a directive to follow, and they now invested themselves into fulfilling their rebbe’s instructions. The newly minted rebbe traveled to the town where he’d been directed, the mikvah maven threw himself into his work, and the brand new melamed gathered the young children and devoted hours into their chinuch, just as the Baal Shem Tov had wanted. Each of his talmidim began to carry out the mission he’d been assigned, finding comfort and solace in the perpetuation of the Baal Shem Tov’s legacy.

As the Baal Shem Tov had instructed, Pinchos began to make his rounds through the nearby villages and towns, disseminating inspirational stories about the Baal Shem Tov. Wherever he went, people eagerly lapped up the yiras shamayim and emunas chachamim that were so present in the tales. They gladly paid the small entrance fee that Yaakov charged for attendance, and he made a modest livelihood.

About two and a half years after he’d begun his new career as a traveling storyteller on the behest of the Baal Shem Tov, someone informed Pinchas of a lucrative lead. “There’s a very wealthy Jew in Italy who loves to hear stories of tzaddikim,” the man told him. “His name is Refael, and he pays a gold coin for every story someone tells him about the Baal Shem Tov.”

Pinchas’s interest was piqued. “Sounds like someone I would want to meet.”

“Yes, my thoughts exactly,” the man agreed enthusiastically. “You know endless stories about the Baal Shem Tov. He won’t be able to get enough of you! Every Shabbos, he hosts large seudos, where Jews from all over the continent join together, singing zemiros and exchanging divrei Torah. And, of course, they tell over stories about tzaddikim, and particularly about the Baal Shem Tov. Refael’s hospitality is truly one of a kind.”

Italy wasn’t a hop and skip away; it was a journey of more than seven months from the town where Pinchas resided. Still, he was excited about the opportunity to spread inspiration from the Baal Shem Tov across the world, and the generous compensation of the Italian Jew was another push for him to go. With the backing of his family, he packed his bags and set out for Italy.

The trip was lengthy and tiring, and it seemed to stretch on and on endlessly, but eventually, Pinchas reached his destination. Exhausted from his journey but relieved it was finally over, Pinchas stopped a Jewish-looking man in the street to ask for directions. “Shalom aleichem, I’m looking for the home of Refael, a wealthy Jew?”

The man looked him up and down. “Aleichem shalom,” he replied pleasantly. “You seem to be new to these parts. Let me escort you to Refael’s house so that you don’t lose your way.”

“Thank you,” Pinchas said gratefully, following him through the busy streets until they reached a large mansion.

“Here’s Refael’s house,” the man said. “He’ll take care of you.” He waved and walked off, leaving Pinchas to climb the grand staircase up to the large front door. 

A uniformed butler answered the door, smiling in welcome. “How can I help you?” he inquired.

“I am a close disciple of the Baal Shem Tov,” Pinchas introduced himself. “I would like to speak to the master of the house.”

“A student of the Baal Shem Tov!” the butler’s voice rang out with new respect. “Please come inside, and I will inform my master of your arrival.” He waited for Pinchas to step onto the gleaming marble floor and closed the door behind him. “Please have a seat,” the butler said, showing him to a waiting room with comfortable couches. “I will be back momentarily.”

Pinchas sank into the soft cushions of his seat and leaned his head back, exhausted. He surveyed the beautiful room curiously, wondering how Refael had made his fortune. Soon, the butler was back.

“My master was pleased to hear that a student of the Baal Shem Tov has come,” the butler said. “He is an extremely busy man and doesn’t have the time during the week, but Shabbos is when his schedule is more relaxed and he’ll be available to speak to you and hear stories about your esteemed teacher. It is his honor and pleasure to host you until then. If you will follow me, sir, I will show you to your accommodations.”

“Thank you, that is most kind,” Pinchas said gratefully, getting up to follow the man to the room where he’d be staying. It was a large and well-appointed bedroom, with everything a guest could possibly need during his stay. Refael, it seemed, wasn’t just a generous man, but a thoughtful one as well.

The next few days passed quickly. Pinchas had ample time to rest up from his journey, and by the time Shabbos arrived, he was feeling refreshed and invigorated. Dressed in his Shabbos clothes, he went to the shul connected to Refael’s house, where a large minyan gathered each week for the Shabbos tefillos.

Identifying him as the visiting student of the Baal Shem Tov, Pinchas was seated at the eastern wall of the shul. Before davening, he finally met Refael, who greeted him warmly and welcomed him to his home. Kabbalas Shabbos and Maariv were beautiful, and when davening was over, the crowd dispersed to their homes to eat the Shabbos meal.

“In about an hour, they will come back for some singing and inspiration,” Refael explained to Pinchas as they walked toward his dining room for their seudah. “That’s when we will be honored to have you tell us stories about the Baal Shem Tov. But for now, let’s make kiddush and enjoy the seudah.”

The table was set beautifully, as fit for a king, and many guests were seated around the table. As the student of the holy Baal Shem Tov, Pinchas was given the seat beside his host. His eyes widened as he surveyed the table, never having seen so many delicacies served at one meal. As a man of means, Refael wanted to honor the Shabbos in the best way he could, and while he himself ate little, he seemed to take pleasure in ensuring his guests were sated and happy.

After the festive meal, they returned together to the shul, which began to fill up with people. Soon, soul stirring melodies filled the room, uplifting and inspiring the many Jews in attendance.

Refael stood up, banging on the table in a call for silence. “I would like to invite Rav Pinchas, a talmid of the holy Baal Shem Tov, to stand up and tell us stories about his revered teacher.” He glanced sideways at his guest in silent confirmation.

Pinchas nodded and stood up, approaching the lecturn to begin speaking. He’d done this dozens of times since the passing of the Baal Shem Tov, and over the course of time, had gotten better and better at it. He cleared his throat, searching through his mental files of stories, but drew completely blank.

He could not remember a single story about the Baal Shem Tov!

He swallowed the rising feeling of panic within him and frantically searched his memory. He knew hundreds, if not thousands, of stories about the Baal Shem Tov! How could it be that he could not recall a single one?

The crowd began to stir, a sign that he was taking too long to begin. Pinchas closed his eyes and tried to conjure up the image of the Baal Shem Tov in his mind. Surely, just seeing a mental image of his holy teacher would bring on the stories! But to his dismay, he could not even recall how the Baal Shem Tov looked.

Realizing that he could not delay any longer, he turned to his host, his cheeks flushed with shame. “I feel terrible, but my mind is blank,” he admitted. “I just can’t remember any stories about the Baal Shem Tov.”

“We’ll sing another niggun, and by then you’ll remember,” Refael said encouragingly, launching into a song. As the room filled with notes, Pinchas strained and strained to remember, but it was as though someone had stolen everything about the Baal Shem Tov from his memory. He simply could not remember.

“I’m sorry,” he was forced to say when the singing died down. “I know so many stories about my teacher, but I just can’t remember them right now.”

“Maybe you’re just tired,” Refael suggested kindly. “You’ll rest up tonight, and tomorrow your mind will be refreshed.”

Many of the others in the in room privately disagreed with the wealthy man. In their opinion, Pinchas was nothing but a fraud who used the Baal Shem Tov’s name to earn himself a free stay in the largest kosher mansion in the city. There seemed to be no other plausible explanation.

After some more singing, the crowd dispersed and went home. Pinchas went to his room, feeling distressed. Try as he might, he could not recall a single episode involving the Baal Shem Tov. This caused him tremendous anguish, and he cried all night.

The next morning was no better. After davening, Refael invited him to speak, but he shook his head. The memories had been expunged from his head, and he did not know how to retrieve them.

At Shalosh Seudos, the crowd gathered again. Once more, Refael tried coaxing Pinchas to speak, but he had nothing to say. The same thing happened at Melaveh Malkah. Pinchas was heartbroken, but that didn’t help the stories return.

By Sunday, Pinchas was ready to give up. “I know you probably don’t believe that I am indeed a student of the Baal Shem Tov,” he told his host. “But whether or not you trust me, I am a talmid of the Baal Shem Tov, and it hurts me terribly that I suddenly can’t remember anything about him. It seems to me that in Heaven, they are preventing me from retelling the stories. It is time for me to go home.”

“Don’t leave yet,” Refael said, feeling bad for the devastated man. “Stay another day or two, and maybe the stories will return. And even if they don’t, I will still give you money because you are a Jew and I care about you.”

Pinchas agreed to wait another two days, but when Tuesday arrived, he still could not recall any stories of the Baal Shem Tov. Refael sent him off with a generous package of food and money and escorted him to the front door. He waved as Pinchas climbed into the wagon, his back suddenly bent in defeat.

But before the horses could lift a leg, a sudden memory jolted Pinchas. He leaped off the carriage and back up the grand staircase. “Wait! Refael! I just remembered an amazing story about the Baal Shem Tov!”

Refael jumped, startled, and a huge grin broke out on his face. “Please, tell it to me now,” he cried eagerly. “I don’t want to wait for Shabbos this time. What if you forget again?”

Pinchas followed him back inside, feeling ten years younger and a thousand pounds lighter. They sat down together and Pinchas began to speak, relaying a story that he, himself had been part of.

“As you know, the high point of Shabbos is by Shalosh Seudos,” he began. “Like a flame that gets bigger before it goes out, the last minutes of Shabbos are the holiest time of the day. During Shalosh Seudos, the Baal Shem Tov’s mind was entirely in Heaven. It was then that he conveyed his deepest Torah thoughts.

“One week, the Baal Shem Tov was unusually silent during Shalosh Seudos. It was clear to all of us that he was lost in thought. His hands were on his head, and he did not utter a word the entire time. When the meal was over, we bentched and davened Maariv.

“Immediately after Havdalah, the Baal Shem Tov ate something quickly for Melaveh Malkah and then he turned to me and another student. ‘Take your tallis and tefillin and come with me,’ he instructed us.

“We looked at each other and I dared ask, ‘Where are we going?’ But the Baal Shem Tov didn’t reply. We got onto the wagon and traveled throughout the night at lightening speeds. The entire time, the Baal Shem tov was engrossed in his own thoughts.

“We reached our destination at daybreak. It was Sunday morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, and the wagon stopped outside a nondescript house. The Baal Shem Tov instructed us to take our packages and we followed him off the wagon to the front door.

“We knocked lightly on the door, but there was no answer. Then we noticed the curtain moving in one of the windows. Whoever lived in the house had heard our knocks and was worried that we were dangerous. It turned out to be an elderly Jewish woman, and when she saw that we were Jewish she parted the curtains and spoke to us through the window. ‘It’s dangerous for you to be outside now!’

“We reached our destination at daybreak. It was Sunday morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, and the wagon stopped outside a nondescript house. The Baal Shem Tov instructed us to take our packages and we followed him off the wagon to the front door.

“We knocked lightly on the door, but there was no answer. Then we noticed the curtain moving in one of the windows. Whoever lived in the house had heard our knocks and was worried that we were dangerous. It turned out to be an elderly Jewish woman, and when she saw that we were Jewish she parted the curtains and spoke to us through the window. ‘It’s dangerous for you to be outside now!’

“The Baal Shem Tov turned to the window. ‘Please open the door and let us in.’ The shutters closed and seconds later the door swung open. ‘Don’t you know that today is a Christian holiday?’ the woman scolded us. ‘It’s dangerous to be in the streets today. Please, go home quickly.’

“The Baal Shem Tov stepped over the threshold and motioned to us to follow him. ‘We’ll be safe here,’ he told her, but she refused to hear him. ‘It’s dangerous,’ she kept repeating. ‘Do you know what will happen if they find a Jew on the streets? They will torture him to death! And they already made a raffle and chose the son of the local rav to be their scapegoat in the event that they don’t find a Jew on the streets. It is too dangerous to be here.’

“The Baal Shem Tov tried to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, we will be safe,’ he said. ‘Would you mind serving my students something to drink? We’ve been traveling all night.’

“The old lady nodded, and began bustling about, lighting a lamp and preparing drinks. We davened Shacharis and then sat at the table with the Baal Shem Tov, still unsure what our mission was. The holy sage was lost in deep thought the entire time.

“The house we were in afforded us a direct view to the city square, where the gentiles would be gathering to hear their holiday sermon. Every few minutes, the Baal Shem Tov stood up and peeked out the window, noting the progress at the square. It was slowly filling with more and more people. The old lady kept moaning in fear and apprehension.

“Suddenly the church bells began ringing and the priest made his grand entrance. There was a tremendous crowd gathered in the square by that point, and the people bowed in respect. From the window, the Baal Shem Tov saw the priest arrive and he turned to me. ‘Pinchas, please go to the priest and tell him that I would like to speak to him now.’

“Our elderly hostess began to quake with worry. ‘You are a murderer!’ she accused. ‘You are putting me into mortal danger! How can you invite him here? The gentiles will come and finish us all off!’

“But the Baal Shem Tov was not fazed by her hysterics. ‘Pinchas,’ he repeated calmly. ‘Go tell the priest that the Baal Shem Tov would like to see him.’”

Pinchas took a deep breath and looked at Refael, who was staring at him intently, waiting for him to continue. “I am a student of the Baal Shem Tov, and if that was the mission he was sending me on, then I was not afraid to fulfill it. I left the woman’s house, looking every inch a Jew with my beard, payos, and dress, and walked through the crowds of spiteful gentiles. Strangely, no one said a word to me or tried to stop me from continuing.

“When I reached the front of the crowd, the priest stood at the dais, ready to begin his speech. I tried calling up to him, but he did not hear me. To grab his attention, I tugged at his coat. ‘The Baal Shem Tov is waiting for you,’ I told him, pointing at the elderly woman’s house. ‘He wants you to come right now.’

“The priest looked at me for a long moment but made no move to harm me. He seemed to be grappling with a decision. ‘I’m about to give a sermon,’ he finally said.  ‘Please tell the Baal Shem Tov that I’ll come when I’m done.’

“I returned to the house to inform the Baal Shem Tov of the priest’s response and found the elderly woman in the throes of a panic attack. She was sure she was about to be eaten alive by a mob of angry gentiles. ‘What did the priest say?’ the Baal Shem Tov asked me.

“I repeated the priest’s words, and the Baal Shem Tov shook his head. ‘Tell him not to be a fool. He should come to me now.’

“I left the house again, and for the second time, walked through the crowd of gentiles. Once again, they let me pass without incident. The priest had already begun speaking, but when he noticed me, he stopped to hear what I had to say. ‘The Baal Shem Tov said that you shouldn’t be a fool. He wants you to come now.’

“The priest heard me out and then nodded. ‘I will be back in a few minutes,’ he announced to the crowd. He walked off the raised platform and together, we made our way to the place where the Baal Shem Tov was staying.

“The old lady was peeking out from between the curtains, and when she saw the priest approaching, her hysterics reached new proportions. She screamed and cried out in real terror, certain that her end was near, but the Baal Shem Tov did not seem to hear her. Instead, he quietly opened the front door and ushered the priest and myself inside.

“The Baal Shem Tov closeted himself in the other room with the priest. It was a tiny room, without even a chair, but they remained inside for two full hours. We waited in the main room for him to return, with only the terrified wails of the elderly lady breaking our utter silence.

“After two hours, the Baal Shem Tov and the priest emerged from the room. The priest was smiling, and he waved at the sage as he left the house. The elderly woman, in the meantime, had nearly suffered from heart failure. She was sitting weakly in a chair, completely spent, breathing heavily. Poor thing.

Pinchas smiled faintly at the memory. “The Baal Shem Tov thanked her for her hospitality, and blessed her with a long life and nachas from her family. She obviously had no idea who the Baal Shem Tov was, but she accepted his blessings and was ever so glad to see us leave.”

“But what about the priest?” Refael pressed. “You didn’t finish the story.”

“That’s all I know,” Pinchas explained. “Until today, I do not know exactly why we went, what was discussed between the priest and the Baal Shem Tov, and what happened afterward. It is clear to me that the priest had an interesting secret, but I will probably never know what it was.”

Refael was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was shaky. “I will tell you what his secret was,” he said slowly. “And I can also tell you what they discussed and what happened afterward.”

Pinchas started at him. “What do you mean?”

“I am the priest in that story,” Refael said. “And I must tell you that as soon as I saw you for the first time, I recognized you as the one who had accompanied the Baal Shem Tov when he came to my city to see me. But I held myself back from introducing myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Pinchas said, closing his eyes in confusion. He opened them and looked carefully at his host’s face, at his pure eyes and beautiful long peyos. Could this be the same man as the priest he had gone to summon on that long-ago Sunday? 

“I’ll start from the beginning,” Refael offered. “I am a Jew, and I was born a Jew, to holy and pious parents. I had a good head, and I came from a good home. My problem was that I had some bad friends, friends who influenced me away from Torah and mitzvos. I ran away from home and lived a life that was the complete antithesis of Torah. At some point, I stooped so low that I crossed the line and converted to Christianity.”

Pinchas gasped.

“You must understand that I was smart and innovative, and the only thing preventing me from making it big was my Jewishness,” Refael explained. “There is no excuse for my behavior, but I was so removed from Yiddishkeit by then that I didn’t see a point in maintaining my allegiance to the faith of my fathers if it was holding me back from success. Indeed, after I was reclassified as a gentile, I began to earn a lot of money and soon became very wealthy.

“One bad move led to another, and soon, I found myself not only a member of a foreign religion, but a priest of this faith that was not truly mine. I was respected by nobility and by the common man, and I thought I was on top of the world.

“One night, I had a dream. In my dream, the Baal Shem Tov appeared and beseeched me to repent. ‘What are you doing to your soul?’ he asked me, pain in his voice. ‘You are engaging in sins that you will never be able to rectify! Have pity on your soul and repent before it is too late!’”

“When I woke up, I told myself that dreams were meaningless and ignored the message I had been given. Besides, I felt that I was too far gone to try to come back. I had fallen to the deepest depths of impurity, and it was too late to come back.

“But although I had given up on myself, the Baal Shem Tov did not give up on me. He appeared to me in a dream again and again to beg me to do teshuvah. And despite the terrible low I’d reached, his words began to have an effect on me. I began to entertain thoughts of teshuvah, although I did not truly know how to go about it.

“It was during this time period that you, Pinchas, suddenly appeared as I was about to give a sermon. When you tugged at my coat and informed me that the Baal Shem Tov was waiting for me, I could not believe that I had been given such an opportunity. This was my chance to speak to the Baal Shem Tov and clarify how to repent!

“Just then, however, I gazed out at the admiring crowds waiting for my words. I enjoyed and appreciated the honor, and I found it difficult to relinquish their respect. Making a quick decision, I told you that I would come when I finished my speech.

“Then you arrived with another message, telling me not to be a fool and squander this golden opportunity. And deep in my heart, I knew you were right. I went with you to the Baal Shem Tov, and for two hours, we spoke. He told me that the gates of repentance are open to all, and that even though I’d strayed so far, there was still a path to return.

“During those two hours, he gave me instructions on how to atone for my terrible deeds. Among other things, he told me to give half my wealth to the poor. The other half I was to take along with me into my new life, not to enjoy for myself, but to enhance the lives of others. The Baal Shem Tov told me to build a nice house where I can host people in comfort, and to use the money to generate inspiration and yiras Shamayim.

“Before we parted, I asked the Baal Shem Tov, ‘How will I know when my teshuvah is accepted?’ He responded, “When someone comes and tells you this very story, this story that happened with the two of us, that will be a sign that your teshuvah was accepted.’”

Refael turned to Pinchas with tears in his eyes. “Since then, I have devoted my life to service of Hashem. I left everything behind and turned my life around completely. It’s been years already, and from time to time I wonder when my atonement will finally be complete.

“Pinchas, you have brought me an inner peace that I have been missing for most of my life. It was not an easy journey, climbing back up from the low place that I’d reached, but the gates of repentance were not closed for me, just like they are never closed for any Jew. You are the messenger bearing the tidings that my repentance is complete, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Have a Wonderful Shabbos!

This story is taken from tape #A237