Let us wait for Shabbat, thought the Baal Shem Tov. Perhaps
his saintliness coincides with that of the seventh day. Wrong again:
his host slept even more than during the week. Unable to contain himself
any longer, the Baal Shem spoke to him, “When I came here I had a question to
ask you. I shall not ask it. But now I
have another: why do you eat so much?”
“I’ll tell you,” answered the man. “It has to do with my father. Who was as a
good Jew, gentle and frail, aspiring to please the Lord. Nothing else interested
him. Neither money nor honors, not even health.
He lived only for and by the Torah. One day he was on his way to
services when he was grabbed by bandits who tied him to a tree and ordered him
to kiss across. He refused, of course. They beat him mercilessly; still he
refused. Then they put kerosene over him and set him on fire. And because my
father was so weak and thin, he burned only a moment; almost as soon as he was
lit, he was burned out. And I, who
saw it all, swore that if ever put to the same test, I would not let them get
away so easily. I would show them that
the Jew does not go out like a miserable skinny candle. No, when I burn, I shall burn so long that
they will burst with anger. That is why
eat so much; all my energy, all my passion is devoted to eating. Not that I’m
hungry, you understand…”
Saint or misguided?
Zealot or fool? Who is to
judge? Not me. All that can be said is we can never test
another’s devotion or make judgments about them religiously as deep down we all
burn with an intensity that frightens us.
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