Chassidic Story # 279

THE LIFE OF AN HOUR

It was midwinter and the dirt roads were treacherous, when Rabbi Yitzchak Meir of Gur set out to visit his Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotsk. The wheels of the coach broke time and again, making the journey longer than usual, and on Friday morning they were still quite some miles from their destination. Rabbi Yitzchak Meir was distressed by this, as were the chassidim who accompanied him, for he was not accustomed to traveling on Fridays and was considering the possibility of spending Shabbat in some wayside village. He asked the Jewish wagon-driver if they stood any chance of arriving in Kotsk at least a few hours before sunset, explaining that he dearly wanted to spend Shabbat there and would repay him well for his effort.

Seeing how much it mattered to his distinguished customer, the simple fellow said that he would do his very best. And indeed, he drove the horses so fast that halfway there one of them collapsed of exhaustion and died. The tzaddik and his chassidim were grieved to see what had happened, and decided to stop and spend the holy day by the wayside, but the wagon-driver begged them to allow him to drive on. Nothing would make him happier, he said, than to enable the tzaddik to reach Kotsk for Shabbos as he had originally planned to do. He was certain that it was still possible to make it in time.

Reb Yitzchak Meir allowed himself to be persuaded, and in fact they reached Kotsk well before sunset. On Friday night, however, the driver's remaining horse died. The moment the tzaddik heard this, he sent word to the wagon-driver that he should not worry, for immediately after Shabbat the chassidim would give him whatever it would cost to buy a new pair of sturdy horses. But the incident was too much of a trauma for the little man to bear. He pined away, and died there in Kotsk.

The tzaddik later told his chassidim that when that wagon driver presented himself before the Heavenly Court to stand trial for his actions in This World, a long line of prosecuting angels ranged themselves opposite him, for he had almost no record of good deeds to his credit. One angel, though, spoke up in his defense: it was because of Shabbat observance that the accused had lost his property, then his life; he had also exerted himself beyond the call of duty to enable others to reach their destination before the Day of Rest. The verdict was, therefore, that by virtue of Shabbat he would be exempted from undergoing all the punishments which his sins warranted.

On the other hand, it was impossible to reward him the spiritual bliss of Gan Eden, because he was nearly devoid of good deeds. It was therefore decided that he should be dispatched to the World of Imagination. There he would live in the illusion that he was still in This World, forever sitting in the driver's seat of a handsome carriage to which four sleek stallions were harnessed, galloping lustily along a smooth broad highway. This illusion he would find more pleasurable than all the spiritual delights that could be offered.

"And now," added Reb Yitzchak Meir, "a certain quotation in the Talmud has finally become clear to me. We read that Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi wept and said: "There are such as earn their portion in the World to Come in a single hour". The classical commentaries ask why he wept. If anything, surely he should have rejoiced that it is possible for men to earn a reward in heaven by the efforts of a single hour. And the answer is as follows: Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi wept for people like our wagon-driver, who are without good deeds, but who through one great mitzvah have earned a share in the World to Come. But because his tastes are coarse the only rewards such a man can be given are the pleasures of this physical world, the world whose life the Sages call, literally, 'the life of an hour,' that is, a world of ephemeral pleasures. It is true to say of such a man that he may earn a world in an hour - but the world he earns is the world of an hour, a world of transient vanity. And over this Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi wept."

Reb Yitzchak Meir ended on a personal note: "I should add that I didn't remain an ungrateful debtor. I was fortunate in that my prayers were the instrument through which our wagon-driver's spiritual eyes were opened. He finally realized that he was dead, and that his reward was one without substance. Having got that far, he could then be granted the spiritual bliss of the Garden of Eden."

[Selected and lightly edited by Yrachmiel Tilles from A Treasury of Chassidic Tales on the Torah-Artscroll, translations/adaptations by our esteemed colleague, Uri Kaploun. You may distribute this e-mail as long as full attribution is given, including Ascent's e-mail and internet addresses. BUT PLEASE DO NOT PUBLISH THIS STORY IN PRINT OR ELECTRONIC FORM WITHOUT EXPLICIT PERMISSION.]

Biographical note:
Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Rothenberg/Alter (1789-23 Adar 1866) of Gur was the successor to Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotsk and the founder of the Gur dynasty. He was popularly known as the Chiddushei HaRim, the title of his classic work of Torah analysis and interpretation.