the root gemul (gemilut ḥasadim, engaging in acts of lovingkindness and charity), for she fell from her former level (in her own eyes), realizing now that she hadn’t really performed good deeds at all in the world. She lowered herself from her former self-estimation and came to the world of t’shuvah, exemplifying the effect on persons as they come to the tzaddik. Rashi alluded to this in explaining that she saw Isaac as majestic and awe-inspiring: she now perceived his wholeness of repentance and, amazed at the deficiency of her own deeds up to that time, was determined to repair them. And she came to the world of t’shuvah, the world of Binah (the s’firah, “Understanding”), from which the fifty gates of Understanding branch out, realizing the need to repair all of them.
For there are five levels of every soul: nefesh, ru’aḥ, n’shamah, ḥayah, and y’ḥidah [the first three of which are naturally found in each person, while the latter two, of a higher nature, must be earned and acquired during the course of one’s life], and the repentant must repair all of them in terms of those fifty gates. Now five multiplied by fifty adds up to 250, a number having the numerical equivalence (in terms of g’matria) of the word tzʿaif (scarf or veil), conveying that she repaired all five parts of her soul, each having fifty gates. And “she covered herself,” for through engagement in t’shuvah, one receives a garment which protects a person from all the accusing agents.
Comment: With the establishment of Hasidic courts came the practice of a follower’s making a periodic journey to his tzaddik, sometimes on holydays and special occasions or at other times as well. Though Kalonymus Kalman, it appears, never actually assumed the role of a rebbe, the preacher, on more than this occasion, strove to dissect the inner meaning of such a journey to a tzaddik.
In the above homily, Rebecca, who has journeyed from her prior location in Haran to Isaac’s location in Canaan to become his wife, is thought to exemplify the role of a follower journeying to the tzaddik, the Hasidic holy man, and Isaac, in that sense, is portrayed as a tzaddik.
With her first actual sighting of Isaac, Rebecca is thought here to undergo the transformation that Kalonymus Kalman ascribes to the followers in their viewing the tzaddik and experiencing his presence, namely a realization of the gulf separating them from the holy man, the gulf between a person’s self-estimation and the ideal that far transcends that reality. So Rebecca, in her very initial impression of Isaac, goes beyond her more common norm of devotion and lovingkindness. Though she had been described as an exemplar of lovingkindness in not only consenting to draw water for a stranger at the well but, in addition, in her offering to draw water also for his animals (Gen 24:15–20), with the very sight or sign of presence of the tzaddik-figure the homily presents her as challenged by Isaac’s incredibly higher norm and level.
That transformation is a movement from a person’s sense of spiritual self-satisfaction in the direction of t’shuvah. It is clear, however, that t’shuvah, normally translated as “repentance,” is not necessarily a matter of repenting for some kind of negative behavior. It is rather a questioning of the quality of one’s deeds in light of a perpetually higher standard of holiness. This definition colors all mention of t’shuvah in this collection of homilies.
A more subtle suggestion underlies this homily: the perpetual danger of spiritual smugness. Any degree of self-satisfaction is a hurdle in the way of that person’s real spiritual growth. It blinds oneself to one’s own blemishes and fosters in a person an unreal self-image. Kalonymus Kalman’s spiritual guide, Elimelekh of Lyzhansk, who so accentuated the role of the tzaddik in his teachings, explained that a true tzaddik does not see himself as such; if he does, that is a sign that he is not a tzaddik and has far to go to reach that level.68
In this passage, Kalonymus Kalman recast an episode in the account of the biblical foreparents in terms of the social reality of Hasidism with the figure of the tzaddik and the practice of pilgrimage to the tzaddik, and the subject of this homily focuses on the relationship between the Hasidic holy man and his followers. In that sense, the preacher leaped over the tremendous gulf separating the patriarchal biblical period from Jewish life in Eastern Europe. This homily hence clearly illustrates quite emphatically the common tendency of a commentator to read the past in terms of one’s present.
67. Maʾor va-shemesh, I, 15b.
68. Noʿam ʾElimelekh (No’aḥ) 23.
Tol’dot
The Lure and Cooling of Appetite69
“And the Lord said to her (to Rebecca), ‘Two nations (goyim) are in your womb.” (Gen 25:23)
[On the basis of sound-similarity], Rashi 70 explained this verse in reference to two persons of lofty rank (geiʾim), Antigonus [a high Roman official in Palestine] and Rabbi [Rabbi Yehuda ha-Nasi, the rabbinic sage who edited the Mishna in the early third century, C.E.] on whose tables neither radish (tz’non) nor horseradish (ḥazeret) were ever absent. His words allude to the saying of our Sages of blessed memory that now [in the absence of the altar in the Temple which had been destroyed], our eating-table serves as a means of atonement.71
The words would seem to convey that the righteous walk in the ways of the Torah of God and do not pursue (material and gastronomical) desires, eating only what is necessary for the maintenance of the body which enables them to engage in the service of God. Eating at their table, they abstain, even in the middle of a meal, and even when their inclination burns to tempt them to continue with some tasty food or sweet drink, they cool off their inclination to eat or drink more. And they even worry and engage in repentance (t’shuvah) concerning what they have already eaten, lest they ate or drank more than was necessary. This is overheard in the words ts’non and ḥazeret, for they cool off (miston’nim) their inclination (and desire) and repent (ḥozrim bit’shuvah) concerning what they had done.
This contrasts with the way of the wicked. For even if they had engaged in some mitzvah with enthusiasm and great desire, the wicked cool off that spiritual enthusiasm and turn from it due to their stronger desire for additional food and drink.
The same pattern [of cooling off and repenting, linguistically symbolized by the radish and the horseradish] characterizes both the righteous and the wicked, though in diametrically opposite directions.
Comment: The talmudic passage on which this brief discourse is based, a statement of Rabbi Yehudah in the name of Rav, read the two nations (goyim), mentioned in a verse from the Torah-reading, as indicating two persons of lofty rank (geiʾ im), namely Antigonus and his contemporary, Rabbi Yehudah haNasi (“Rabbi”). Rashi, in his comment on that source, explained that the former was a descendent of Esau (Edom/Rome) while the latter was a descendent of Jacob.
The talmudic passage states that lettuce, radish, and cucumbers were always to be found on Rabbi’s table for reasons having to do with how their respective medicinal properties effect the body. That kind of statement might indeed interest those curious about ancient medicine. The passage as re-stated in Maʾor va-shemesh, however, understands radishes and horseradish-root symbolically in terms of the letters and sounds comprising those words and brings the listener into a very different world of concern—not physical health-measures, but rather two distinct types of persons with very different value-systems and dispositions. The “righteous” (represented by Rabbi) regard food as a requirement of bodily survival which, in turn, is viewed as necessary in order to serve God in life, while the “wicked” (represented by Antigonus) eat out of a boundless desire for food and drink. The first emphasize the spiritual dimension
