The Ohr HaChaim - Rav Chaim Ben Attar, Unotuchable In Life And Untouchable In DeathOn Motza'ei Shabbos 15 Tammuz 5503/1743 at the same time Rav Chaim ben Attar, better known by the name of his peirush on Chumash called Ohr HaChaim, was niftar in Yerushalayim, the Ba'al Shem Tov was washing for Seudah Shlishis and commented to  his talmidim, "The Ner Maaravi has been extinguished."  In Teveria at that same time Rav Chaim Abulafia fainted.  When he woke up, he said that he accompanied the Ohr HaChaim to the gates of Gan Eden.

When Har HaZeisim fell into the hands of the Jordanians after 1948, they started to build a road through the Bais HaKvaros.  When the tractor came to the kever of the Ohr Hachaim it broke down and nothing could start it again.  The next day they brought in a new tractor to clear the path.  As soon the tractor touched the kever it overturned and tumbled into the valley killing the driver.  After that the plans were halted and a road was built higher on the mountain.  The beginning of earlier road is still visible today.

The Ohr HaChaim was born in Sali, Morocco in 5456/1696 into a wealthy family.  As he grew so did his torah and yiras shamayim and he eventually opened up his own yeshiva. His life was not ideal as he was targeted by the government and thrown into jail on more than one occasion became accused falsely of things that he had no part in.  One time he was even thrown into the lions den and came out unharmed.

His earliest works, chidushim on Shas called Chefetz Hashem, were published in Amsterdam in 1732.  He fled Morocco forever in 1738 after hunger ravaged the population and the survivors all fled.  It was at this time that Rav Chaim decided to emigrate to Eretz Yisroel and open a Yeshiva in Yerushalayim.  The journey lasted a long time and took him through Italy where he published his famous work the Ohr HaChaim in 1741.  Another famous work that he wrote is the Pri To'ar on Yoreh Dei'a.

In Elul 5501/1741 he reached the shores of Eretz Yisroel but could not travel to Yerushalayim because of a plague rampant the city.  Only a full year later did the Ohr HaChaim realize his dream and open a yeshiva in the Ir HaKodesh.  His happiness knew no bounds. In his yeshiva learned two future gedolim the Chida and the Maharit Algazi.  Sadly this dream only lasted one year as the Ohr HaChaim  was niftar on 15 Tammuz 5503/1943, at the young age of 47.  Yehi Zichro Boruch! (See also Kedoshim Asher BaAretz)from Revach.org

 
Getting Advice 06/26/2009
 

A classic from the Rebbe, his yahrzeit was this week on 3 Tammuz. 

 
 
 
 

1. The Road Home THERE was a time, at first, when I used to believe that all those who recognized the Jews as a people, with a claim to an individual life of its own, were full, national Jews—no matter in which soil they had their spiritual roots.  At that time I did not think at all about religion.  To be sure, I knew that in earlier times religion occupied the foremost place in the life of the Jewish people, and it seemed that even today it still wielded a considerable influence.  But that did not concern me, nor those who thought as I did.  After all, we were national Jews—national loyalty, not religious conviction, was to us the criterion of a Jew.

Somewhat later I came to realize that it was not good enough merely to acknowledge allegiance to one nation or another, as one pleased; to belong to it, one had to enter into its life and spirit.  Of course this view did not let me treat religion with my former indifference: it was in religion that the Jewish spirit had expressed itself through the ages.  Yet I still felt that the Jewish religion had lost its significance for present and future.  Why, indeed, need it be considered the only, immortal expression of the Jewish spirit?  Could this not come to the surface in other, in all, aspects of social and cultural life?

I could not cling to this view for long.  It became clear to me that the history of humanity, of all the nations, all the efforts and achievements of culture, had crystallized and developed around religious, spiritual centers.  I gazed with awe and fervor upon the mysterious spiritual forces which direct the paths of man according to set goals.  Naturally I applied this discovery also to Jewish history; and recognized that the future of the Jewish people, if there was to be one, could only be inspired by, and built around, its central spiritual core.  But I was still too deeply steeped in the spirit of materialism to draw practical consequences from my new wisdom.  I knew well enough now that religion could not be explained away as a useful invention of man; and I realized that its teachings on the unity and meaningfulness of historic developments were true.  But I did not act upon these teachings, because I did not, at this time, truly believe: I did not know G-d yet.

Today I do; I have meditated much about the latter and, if necessary, I can defend (not, G-d forbid, prove) my belief in G-d and all its implications by all manners of rational arguments.  For example, I can note the fact that the plan of a man's life, the development of his spirit, is already determined at the moment of his coming into existence; why, then, should nature and history as a whole be considered to be planless, accidental, without a living spirit to direct them from the first?  Actually, if there were only a purely mechanical process of world development, we could not speak of moral laws (as we in fact do); these only make sense if we consider humanity capable of freely realizing given spiritual goals.  We may consider the development of our world very much like the unreeling of a string from a spool; more and more of the string appears to us, but all of it had already existed before, although invisible to us—and, in the same way, world development may be conceived as the gradual expression of a prior plan laid down by the Eternal Spirit.  Religious faith is challenged by the assertion that world development was not planned, and only appears to express a meaningful plan—yet such an assertion is itself based on a new kind of faith.  It can hardly be denied that where there appears a plan there must be a planner, that the immense structure of the world presupposes a world builder.  From this idea of G-d as planning for eternity I can derive the omnipotence, omniscience, justice and mercy of G-d, without concern for the fashionable arguments of our time.

But these, and other, considerations are not the reason for my faith in G-d today; and it was not they which led me to it.  I did not seek G-d, as people put it, very nicely but hypocritically; I did not have to find Him.  He suddenly announced Himself to me and entered into my consciousness.  Without any mediating speculation I recognized Him, in whom the spiritual foundations of all nations are anchored, the Father and First Cause of all that exists, the Prime Planner of all developments, the Prime Builder of our world.  For a while false shame did not let me submit to this new discovery.  But soon it was overcome by a new and burning shame which has not left me to this day: shame that I should have been for so long among those who do not know of Him; that the wisdom of my ancestors, the greatest there ever was on earth, had so long been dormant within me, and the voice of my people silent so long.

It was then that I rid myself of the last vestiges of my materialistic view of history, and came to recognize the unique nature and life of my people.  True enough, I realized, the other nations had men who knew of G-d even before Jewish influence had reached them.  But these men only philosophized about Him as a cold and lofty abstraction; they did not love Him, and were not His messengers.  He did not inspire them to rise up before their peoples, to proclaim Him to them, to enter with Him into the world.  The nations continued to go their diverse ways; they looked for G-d in the multiplicity of appearances, in the colorful variety of idols.  Only to us, to the speck of dust among the mountains; to us, who since time immemorial, had known G-d without seeking Him, the first and only ones; to us alone was He more than a philosophical discovery.  We entered with Him into the world, to understand its meaning and purpose; we entered with Him into history, to shape it according to His will.  We alone organized our little community for Him alone, without looking for power or petty profits.  Thus we remained lonely and unrecognized among the heathen nations of ancient times—eccentrics for whom they had no use or understanding.  Even later, through the ages, when we met with the nations of the world, we stayed in splendid isolation.

We did indeed give them new religious foundations; our Jewish idea of G-d entered into the world as a perpetual ferment—so that we can almost speak of a "colonial Judaism" among the nations.  But again and again the tough pagan strain inherent in the nations asserted itself by rebelling against our great and unique remaking of the human spirit.  Ever more frequently they attacked those religious and social institutions and movements in their midst which had been inspired by Judaism (even though these structures themselves had rebelled and developed away from their Jewish origins).  They seemed unable to tolerate their Jewish background and component elements.  Particularly since the days of the Renaissance, the attacks multiplied upon the Jewish principle, "G-d first, and only then the world"; and upon the restraints divinely imposed on man.  The ancestral instincts of pagan man strove ever more to break through these restraints, and to attain the so-called "'free play of forces" which does not only let a Cain slay an Abel but even, on occasion, allows one Abel to destroy another.

We, however, were like men in a well-protected port, looking out upon a storm-swept sea.  With astonished eyes we watched the battle raging abroad because of a little part of our Jewish faith.  We remained in our safe haven, alone with our holy mysteries of eternity.  G-d had chosen us—and we Him. 

 
 

By Dovid Zaklikowski
Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, Talmudist, Halachist, physician, philosopher and communal leader, known in the Jewish world by the acronym "Rambam" and to the world at large as "Maimonides," is one of the most important figures in the history of Torah scholarship; on his gravestone were inscribed the words, "From Moses to Moses, none arose as Moses."

Today, many hospitals and schools across the globe are named after Maimonides; and to this day, students worldwide pore over his scholarly works.

Biography Main Article: The Rambam: A Biography

Traditional portrait of Rambam, and authentic signature of the Rambam Moshe was born in Cordoba, Spain, on the 14th of Nissan (the eve of Passover) of the year 4895 (1135 C.E.1). His father Maimon, a direct descendant of King David, was a judge in the city's rabbinical court. His mother passed away immediately after his birth.

At the age of thirteen, his family was forced to flee Cordoba when a fanatic Islamic sect took control of the city; the Jews were attacked by rioters and many synagogues were destroyed.

Moshe and his family traveled from place to place looking where to relocate. Not finding anything suitable in Spain, he and his father and younger brother, David, moved to Fez, Morocco, for five years. In 4925 (1165 C.E.), he visited the land of Israel and then moved to Alexandria, Egypt. Later, he settled in Fustat, today known as Old Cairo, where he lived until his passing.

In Egypt, Maimonides was supported by his brother David, a merchant who imported diamonds from India. His financial support gave Maimonides the ability to devote himself to the study of Torah and to author his scholarly work on the Mishnah, the 2nd century seminal work on Jewish law.

Tragedy befell him when his father, wife and two sons died within a span of two years, starting in 1166. Several years later, in 1171, his brother David drowned when his ship sunk en route to India.

Without the support of his brother, he began practicing medicine and struggled to support himself and his brother's family.

In his mid-fifties, Maimonides was appointed as a personal physician by a royal courtier and then to Saladin, the sultan of Egypt and Syria. His new appointments and duties gave him financial stability and more – albeit still very limited – time to devote to his writing.

His son and faithful student, Abraham, was his only remaining immediate family member.

Scholarship Main Article: Talmudist

Facsimile of a page from the manuscript of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah At a young age, Maimon personally educated his son and brought him to the revered teacher, Rabbi Yosef ibn Migash, known as the Ree Migash, a rabbi in Alusina, Spain (today known as Lucene). Maimonides would later consider him his primary mentor.

In his mid-20s, he began authoring numerous volumes on the Mishnah, which he completed around ten years later. His intent was to assist those who could not understand the Mishnah's Hebrew and often cryptic text, and for that reason, the commentary was written in Arabic but with Hebrew lettering.

He then wrote a volume in Arabic called Sefer Hamitzvot, listing all of the 613 commandments. These volumes were later translated into Hebrew numerous times, once still in his lifetime.

Additional Works Main Article: Responsa

Maimonides also authored the Guide for the Perplexed, or Moreh Nevuchim, a foundational work on Jewish philosophy; the Letter of Martyrdom, a letter to Yemenite Jews encouraging them in their difficult plight; and other letters (gathered together in Pe'er Hador and today published as a single volume). Maimonides also wrote an Oath for Physicians, and various medical texts are attributed to him.

Code of Jewish Law Main Article: Codification of Jewish Law

Inner cover of the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah from the 1574 edition printed in Venice, Italy Maimonides' magnum opus is his codification of Jewish law, which he called Mishneh Torah, or "second to the Torah." The fourteen volume work is a logical systematic codification of Jewish law.

Prior to Maimonides, in order to know Jewish law, one would have to learn the entire Talmud. And since the Talmud itself as at times indecisive, often incorporating conflicting opinions on Jewish law, it was necessary to then study the various commentaries, which clarified the final law. The famed Rabbi Yitzchak Alfasi, known as the Rif (the teacher of the aforementioned Ree Migash) was the first to codify applicable Jewish law—as a commentary to the Talmud.

The difficulty was, however, that the Talmudic rulings – as well as the aforementioned commentaries – were not organized in a strictly encyclopedic, logical fashion, making research extremely taxing. For example, in order to study the laws of Shabbat by exploring the Talmud, one needs to search through tens of tractates.

Maimonides was the first one to index the entire body of Oral Law – both Talmuds, the various halachic Midrashim, later works authored by the Geonim, and even kabbalistic texts – and compile it all in a logical and systematic fashion. The laws of Shabbat, for example, are all gathered in the third volume of Mishneh Torah (which is titled Zmanim, "Times," containing all laws pertaining to Shabbat and holidays) in thirty chapters, each divided into bite-sized sub-sections.

Maimonides codified the laws of Shabbat, holidays, prayer, dietary laws, and the laws that regulate the Jew's daily life. He also wrote a section on eating healthy, fitness, and mental health—teaching future learners that all our actions should be permeated with holiness and G‑dliness. "The health and wellbeing of the body," he writes, "is part of one's service of G‑d."

The Mishneh Torah also incorporates the basics of Jewish thought and belief.

Another unique component of the volumes is that they are not limited to laws that pertain to our day and age, which constitute only a small part of the 613 biblical commandments, but also include laws that will pertain to the Messianic era, such as the laws of tithing, the Jubilee Year, and the Temple service.

In this area, Maimonides was more than a trailblazer; to this very day the Mishneh Torah remains the only work of this scope. No other work – authored beforehand or afterwards – covers the entire corpus of Jewish law. (Even the commentaries on Jewish law authored before Maimonides omit the laws that were not germane at the time.)

Maimonides also placed great emphasis on making his works available and understandable to all Jews, scholars and laymen alike. He also omitted sources, for brevity's sake, though later scholars compiled sources for every statement in the Mishneh Torah. Because of his unique style and clarity, he became known as "The Golden Tongue."

Since Maimonides, many subsequent scholars have analyzed every word and even letter in his volumes. They discuss at length why Maimonides chose to include certain laws, wrote one law before another, and why he chose to include laws in one volume but not the other. Some have speculated that the body of commentary on Maimonides' volumes could reach the same quantity as Talmudic commentary.

Passing Maimonides passed away on the 20th of Tevet of the year 4965 (1204 C.E.) and was buried in the city of Tiberias in the Holy Land.

Daily Study of Maimonides' Works Main Article: Daily Study of Maimonides' Works

Cairo, Egypt: Celebration of the completion of the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah in his synagogue. In the spring of 1984, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, called for an innovative addition to the daily study schedule of every Jewish man, woman and child. He suggested that everyone study daily a portion of Maimonides' Mishneh Torah.

The Rebbe suggested a three-track system: three chapters daily, one chapter daily, or to study every day from the Sefer Hamitzvot. This suggestion was enthusiastically accepted by tens of thousands, bringing Maimonides' works to unparalleled prominence.

Today, Jews across the globe celebrate at the completion of the cycle every year.

 
 

The next few weeks, I will posting R. Nathan Birnbaum's Confessions.  A classic trivia question: Who was the first secretary general of the Zionist Movement and the Agudas Israel?  Nathan Birnbaum.  from Aishdas.org

On rare occasions men emerge in history whose lives mirror their entire age, all its ideals and errors, achievements and failures.  Rarer still are those who are chosen, at the end of their pilgrimage through life, to rise above their world and to attain that ultimate wisdom which is above time and circumstance.  Hence the greatness of Nathan Birnbaum, among the builders of modern Judaism.

Birnbaum helped create the major Jewish movements of our time, Zionism, Autonomism, Yiddishism.  He gave to all of them of his profound humanity and understanding of life.  But he passed from one to the other, a modern Odysseus in the search for truth, driven by his inexorably logical mind and incorruptible honesty, until he found his way home, to the simple yet sublime teachings of Jewish tradition.  It was at the end of his road that he came to write Gottesvolk, his great manifesto to the Jewish people, of which Confession is a somewhat abridged translation.  Today we see in it a deeply moving personal document –one of the great historical pieces of contemporary Jewish literature– and, above all, a message to the modern Jew, of vital significance for him.

Birnbaum was only nineteen years of age when he founded the first Jewish students' association, with a national program.  That was in the Vienna of 1883, a full decade before Theodor Herzl appeared on the Jewish scene.  In 1884, the first issue of Selbstemanzipation (Self-Emancipation) appeared, a journal of which Birnbaum was publisher, editor, bookkeeper, typist and office boy, all in one.  Through heartbreaking toil he finally gained a hearing for his ideals, for the trumpet-call of a resurgent Jewish nationalism.  In time, the rising wave of European anti-Semitism seemed to put victory within the grasp of the young Zionist movement: Palestine alone held out hope of peace for the Jew.

Yet, it was at this moment that Birnbaum broke with the political Zionism of Herzl.  To him, the Jewish nation was not merely a group of people held together by a common enemy (Herzl's definition); and its survival could not be secured by political concessions in Palestine.  The vitality of a people, Birnbaum felt, depended upon its culture; and upon this, Jewish nationalism had to be founded.  He did not belittle the importance of Palestine, but he maintained that Jewish nationhood could be sustained in the diaspora too, in centers of Jewish settlement, enjoying cultural autonomy.  Such a center he saw in Eastern European Jewry, as the truest representative of Jewish vitality, spirit, culture.  Hence his efforts in behalf of the Yiddish world.  Der Weg (The Way), founded in 1903, served as the mouthpiece of Autonomism.  A few years later, Birnbaum called a conference of the outstanding Yiddish writers of the time, which marked the full emergence of a proud Yiddishism.

Once more, however, Birnbaum turned away from the ideal he himself had helped to launch.  Jewish nationalism must be founded upon Jewish culture, he had recognized; and now, penetrating behind its manifold expressions, he came to realize that its innermost source was the religion of the Jew:  his G-d-consciousness, expressing itself in the sanctification of life.  That, Birnbaum felt, distinguished the Jew from the heathen; the good life in the Divine world from the brutality and self-seeking of paganism, ancient or modern.  To Birnbaum, this discovery came as a sudden overwhelming experience, which forever changed the course of his life.  It revealed to him the true meaning of world history:  the struggle of divine goodness to conquer the heathen world; and he recognized the purpose of Jewish existence:  to keep the divine light burning, to whose service the Jew had dedicated himself at the beginning of his history.

Thus Birnbaum rediscovered the teachings of Judaism, as they had been cherished, defended, and died for, through the ages.  Thus, also, he declared war against the desecration of the divine world by modern paganism.  But Gottesvolk, when it appeared in 1917, did not only present a challenge to the "heathen rebels"; it also addressed itself to the loyal Jews.  Do they realize, Birnbaum asked, that Judaism is a revolutionary creed and program, aiming to make over our world?  Do they keep before their eyes the messianic vision of a world prepared for the kingdom of G-d?

Birnbaum saw the most fundamental, and dangerous, aspects of the Jewish problem in the weakening of messianic fervor among the religious Jewish masses; and in the resulting threat of sterility, stagnation and death, Gottesvolk was written, above all, to bring home to the pious Jew the greatness of his messianic mission.  A time has come, Birnbaum proclaimed, which demands a penitent return to our divine task:  the sanctification of both individual and world . . . leading to final redemption.  The tragic history of twentieth-century Jewry has led many others of our leaders to join in the impassioned call for "repentance and redemption" which Birnbaum issued in 1917.

His inspired insight into the problem of Jewish life also revealed itself in his insistence that the discharge of the Jewish task demands organized communal cooperation, in behalf of the spiritual interests and material position of the Jewish people.  It was to this end, in fact, that the outstanding spiritual leaders of pious Jewry had organized Agudath Israel.  Shortly after writing Gottesvolk Bimbaum joined Agudath Israel and became its General Secretary –a remarkable ending to his long political Odyssey.

There was a third point in the program which Birnbaum outlined in Gottesvolk:  he felt that the survival of the various centers of Jewish settlement depended upon the isolation of Jewish communal life from the vices and aberrations of modern pagan life.  Hence he called for the establishment of an order of Olim (Ascenders), living outside the big cities, devoted to agriculture and handicrafts, immersed in Jewish spirituality and preserving the distinctive Jewish language and attire.  This project never came to fruition.  The Jewish community in Eastern Europe, to which Birnbaum looked above all, was destroyed in terrible fashion.  Today Jewish life is centered on Palestine and America; there is little prospect that the "community of the ascenders" will come into existence in these countries1 –and we may feel that Jewry may, in fact, survive in the modern world without the adoption of Birnbaum's project.

Yet Birnbaum's insistence upon the unbridgeable gulf between Judaism and modern paganism, and his call to arm ourselves against the pagan influences, are of immense significance for American and Palestinian Jewry, upon whom the burden of Jewish survival is now put.  Birnbaum's challenge rings in our ears with an urgency greater than ever before.  Wherever Providence has led the Jew, in Palestine or the diaspora, his fate is ultimately governed by the one supreme fact of his loyalty to the divine teachings of Judaism:  "The righteous liveth by his faith." 



 
 

from Revach.org
A Short Life Filled With Persecution In The Aftermath Of Shabsai Tzvi

After seeing the Mesilas Yesharim(Path of the Just), the Vilna Gaon said that if the Ramchal were still alive he would travel across Europe by foot to learn from him.  Unfortunately the Ramchal, who lived a short life, filled with persecution and suspicion, was niftar when the Vilna gain was just 17 and the two never met.

Rav Moshe Chaim Luzzatto or commonly known as the Ramchal, was born in the Jewish ghetto in Padua, Italy in 5467/1707.  The Ramchal was a talmid of Rav Yeshayahu Bassan one of the gedolim of Italy at the time.  One of the Ramchal's close peers and student Rav Yekusiel Gordon wrote in a letter that the Ramchal knew the writings of the Arizal by heart and at the age of 15 he wrote his first sefer on Kabala.  

The turning point in the Ramchal's life was at the age of 20 when a Magid started to appear to him to teach him the secrets of Kabbala.  The Ramchal wrote down what he learned from the Magid and a group gathered around him, whom he taught Kabala.  This being just over 50 years after the Shabsai Tzvi scandal rocked the Jewish world, the Rabbonim of Italy were quite upset at the situation, especially Rav Moshe Chagiz.  The Ramchal was persecuted and threatened with being put into Cheirem.

After years of fighting the Ramchal's conceded not to write down the teachings of the Magid and things reached somewhat of a truce.  However unhappy with his inability to write, in 1735 the Ramchal left Italy for good heading to the more liberal confines of Amsterdam and hoping to enjoy freedom from his persecutions and restrictions.  Passing through Frankfurt, Germany on the way, the Ramchal hoped to gain a sympathetic ear from the Rabbonim there, only to be met with even fiercer hostility.  He was forced to sign another concession that he would not learn Kabbala until the age of forty and never teach or write again.

Eventually he did find peace in Amsterdam and it was there that he wrote his classic work, Mesilas Yesharim, a fundamental sefer of the mussar movement that would flourish a hundred years later.  Below its mussar veneer, the Mesilas Yesharim is said to contain much kabalistic insight.  During his tenure in Amsterdam the Ramchal was appointed Rosh Yeshiva.

In 1743 at age of 36, the Ramchal set off with his family to Eretz Yisroel.  Not much is known about the Ramchal's life in Eretz Yisroel other than that it was short lived.  The Ramchal and his family perished in a plague in the year 1746 at the young age of 39, just three years after arriving to the shores of Eretz Yisroel.

The Ramchal left many seforim behind.  It is said that to gain a glimpse of the Ramchal one must learn all his seforim, for a single sefer cannot tell the entire picture.  Each sefer reveals another piece of the puzzle.  While his generation was not zocheh to drink from his sweet waters, we who live 250 years after his death have a great appreciation although limited understanding, of the treasure that Hashem sent to this world.  Yehi Zichro Boruch!

 
 
 
 

I was reading Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl's, the chief rabbi of the Old City Jerusalem, book on Shavous last night in the Ramban after the 10PM maariv.  He writes that the idea behind reading Megilas Ruth on Shavous is because it  embodies Gemilas Hessed (acts of loving-kindness), Ruth sacrifices being a princess to go with her mother in law to a foreign land and to poverty.  She is nice and caring to Naomi, willing to work in the fields to collect food for her.  Boaz is nice and giving to Ruth, the whole story revolves around kindess. And through that, says Rabbi Nebenzahl, is where the power and potential for King David and later the Moschiach will come about. The Moschiach, the anoited one who will redeem the entire world and bring it to perfection, will come about through acts of loving-kindness and will be the universally accepted leader of world.  He will bring all Jews back to Torah-true values and to live in Eretz Israel. 
An article written by a g

The Baal Shem Tov from Breslov.co.il

Yisrael Ben Eliezer, later known as The Baal Shem Tov (The Master of the Good Name), was born on the 18th of Elul 5458 (August 27, 1698) to Rabbi Eliezer and his wife Sarah. They lived in the small village Okup on the Russian Polish border. Both Rabbi Eliezer and Sarah were already very old when their first child, little Srulik (Israel) was born.

The days passed quickly and when Srulik was only five years old, his father Rabbi Eliezer died. The last words his father said to him were "Israel my son, you have a very holy soul, don't fear anything but G-d". Soon thereafter, his mother Sarah also died.
 
Young Israel, now an orphan, was adopted by the local community and educated as was common in Jewish communities at that time. That is, he probably learned to read Hebrew by four, to translate the bible from the original at five, and began Talmud at about eight. By the time he entered his teens, he was probably fluent in both Bible and Talmud.
 
The tradition is that young Israel was different from other children. He would often go into fields and woods and mountains, spending many hours alone, speaking to G-d. Not having parents, it's not surprising he would go into nature to seek out his Father in Heaven. At an early age he was aware of the presence of G-d in all aspects of life.
 
When Israel entered his teens, the community’s responsibility for him ended and he had to begin supporting himself. First, he was hired as a school assistant because of his way with children. He was known to sing psalms and other songs with the children as they walked to school. He would also tell the children stories and teach them how to daven (pray).
 
Israel's next position was that of a caretaker at the local synagogue. His main duties were to clean the synagogue and arrange the books. This gave him the time to study and develop. Late at night, when everyone was gone from the study hall of the synagogue, he would study the large tomes of the Talmud, Midrash and Jewish Law. Probably, he also studied Kabala, as was common in those days. He developed a great expertise in these areas. This expertise was later spoken about by his students and appeared in his teachings. Young Israel was said to sleep during the day when he had nothing to do. The local people thought he was not very smart.
 
Then the son of Rabbi Adam, the Baal Shem brought him the sacred tome of the Jewish spiritual teachings. After studying for a time with the Rabbi's son, the latter died and Israel moved to a little town near Brody.
 
There he was employed as a teacher of young children. He became acquainted with Rabbi Ephraim of Brody who became aware of Yisrael's spiritual greatness. Right before Rabbi Ephraim's death, the Rabbi arranged for the engagement of Israel to his daughter Chana.
 
When Israel came to Rabbi Gershon of Kitov, Rabbi Epraim's son, requesting the hand of his fiancée, Rabbi Gershon thinking that Israel was a peasant, tried to throw him out. But, when Israel produced a letter of engagement signed by Rabbi Ephraim, he called Chana and asked her opinion. After Israel spoke with Chana, no doubt telling her who he really was, she agreed to the match. Even though Rabbi Gershon disapproved of the match, he allowed them to marry and sent them away with a horse and wagon.
 
The bride and groom moved to a mountain village called Kutty between Kitov and Kasov in the Carpathian Mountains. This little village was also not far from Brody. Israel spent the next ten years praying and studying with an angelic mentor, Achiyah HaShaloni. Achiyah HaShaloni was among those that left Egypt with Moses and was a prophet during the reign of King Dovid. Achiyah HaShaloni initiated Yisrael into the mysteries of the Torah.
 
For a time, Israel was a shochet (ritual slaughterer) and teacher in Koslovitz.
 
Israel and Chana had two children, Edel and Tzvi Hirsch.
 
Rabbi Israel first revealed himself to the world on Lag BaOmer, 5585 (May 22, 1734). Then Rabbi Israel moved to Talust and became famous as a holy man. Next he moved to Medzibusch in Western Ukraine for the remainder of his life.
 
In Medzibusch, his fame spread and students attached themselves to him. Not only were ordinary people attracted to him, but some of the greatest Rabbinical luminaries also joined with him.
 
Although very few documents written by Rabbi Israel still exist, many stories and teachings have been passed down to the present time.
 
He became known as the Baal Shem Tov - the Master of the Good Name.
 
As Rabbi Israel's fame spread, so did an opposition (Misnagdim) begin to grow.
 
Being a living legend, the Baal Shem Tov spent most of his time in worship, serving G-d, teaching his disciples, and giving blessings to the thousands that came to see him.
 
The Baal Shem Tov passed away on Shavuos, 5520 (May 23, 1760) having founded the Chassidic movement that lives on today.
 
 
(Rabbi Tzvi Meir Cohn of Cleveland, Ohio is the executive director of the Baal Shem Tov Foundation. He can be contacted at cohn@baalshemtov.com)