Arizal – Stories of Tzadikim

Shabbat Garments

One day, Rabbi Shmuel di Ozeda (author of the commentary "Midrash Shmuel" on the Mishnah tractate Avot) entered the beit midrash of the Arizal (zechuto yagen aleinu). The Arizal rose before him and accorded him great honor. When Rabbi Shmuel left, Rabbi Chaim asked the Arizal why he had acted in this manner. Rabbi Yitzchak replied that Rabbi Shmuel had merited fulfilling an extremely important mitzvah of the Torah, and that he was therefore accompanied by the Tanna Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair—it was Rabbi Pinchas to whom the honor shown by the Arizal was actually directed. Rabbi Chaim immediately ran after Rabbi Shmuel, caught up with him, and asked: Which mitzvah had he fulfilled that day? —“I will tell you the truth,” he replied. “Early this morning, as I was walking to the beit midrash to be among the first ten people to arrive, I passed a house and heard terrible crying coming from inside. I entered to ask why they were crying so bitterly, and I saw naked people there. It turned out that thieves had broken into their home during the night and taken everything they owned. I felt terribly sorry for them, so I removed my clothes and gave them to the family, then hurried home and put on my Shabbat garments.” From Tzfat to Yerushalayim The students of the great Arizal, Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, recalled how one Friday, shortly before the onset of Shabbat, as they stood with their teacher on the outskirts of the city preparing to greet the Shabbat Queen, he suddenly turned to them and said excitedly: "Let us go to Yerushalayim." The students were astonished: Yerushalayim was far from Tzfat, and only a few minutes remained before sunset. What did he have in mind? The Arizal apparently meant that they would travel to the Holy City beyond the constraints of time; perhaps his strange suggestion concealed something even deeper and more significant than an intention to visit Yerushalayim. The group was momentarily confused, and someone remarked that they ought to notify their families. The Arizal then said sadly: "Everyone, it is already too late." The Arizal’s great student, Rabbi Chaim Vital, mentions this episode in his notes. After his teacher’s death, he was in Yerushalayim. One day, the Sultan of Yerushalayim came to him and ordered him to open the waters of Gichon. Gichon was an underground spring that flowed beneath Yerushalayim. It had been sealed by King Chizkiyahu, as stated in the Talmud, against the wishes of the sages of that generation. Clearly, the closing and opening of these waters had a far deeper significance than considerations of practical utility. The Sultan knew that the great kabbalist Rabbi Chaim Vital possessed sufficient transcendental power to “unseal” the spring that had been hidden many centuries earlier. Rabbi Vital was afraid to carry out the order, but he knew that refusal would cost him his life. Therefore, using a special Kabbalistic technique, he instantly transported himself to Damascus. That very night, his Rebbe, the Arizal, appeared to him in a dream. “Why did you refuse to open Gichon today?” he asked his student. —“I was afraid to use the holy Names of G-d to carry out the order,” Rabbi Chaim replied. —“And how did you find yourself in Damascus?” Rabbi Chaim apparently did not know what to answer, and the Arizal continued: “Do you know that your soul is the gilgul of King Chizkiyahu, and that you came into this world in order to reopen this spring, which was sealed many years ago?” Rabbi Chaim replied: “I will return there tomorrow and do everything.” The Arizal said: “No. Now you will be unable to do anything. Today was the appointed day, but the auspicious opportunity has been irretrievably lost.”   The Funeral of the Ramak When the Ramak died, his inconsolable students went out to accompany him on his final journey together with the ordinary residents of Tzfat, who held the sage in the highest esteem. The Arizal saw that the gravediggers intended to bury the body of Rabbi Moshe Cordovero not where indicated by the pillar of Divine light that accompanied the procession and was visible only to his eyes. He was forced to intervene. —Go there, a little higher, to where the pillar of cloud stands,” Rabbi Yitzchak directed the gravediggers. They obeyed, although they could see no pillar. Rabbi Moshe Cordovero’s students heard their colleague’s words and were themselves literally petrified: Could it be that this newcomer, this immigrant from Egypt, this entirely unknown young Jew would now become their leader? Their attempts to see the mysterious pillar suffused with light were unsuccessful. The burial was carried out precisely in accordance with Rabbi Yitzchak’s instructions. In his eulogy at the graveside, the Arizal said: —“It is written in the Book of Devarim: ‘If a man has committed a sin worthy of death, and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree.’ I interpret this verse as follows: If a completely sinless person, sentenced by the Heavenly Court to death without any apparent reason, is nevertheless deprived of life, connect his death with the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, for by eating its fruit, Adam and Chavah brought death upon all humanity. Had Adam not eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, the righteous could have lived forever. As for our beloved teacher, Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, he had no personal sins. He had to die because of that same Original Sin, which brought death into the world…” The Arizal’s interpretation is based on the following: а) the word “chet” (“sin”) also means “absence” in Hebrew; б) the word “vetalita” (“hang”) also means “connect”.   Miriam’s Well By the time he met the Arizal, Rabbi Chaim Vital was already an outstanding Kabbalist. Despite being under thirty, he headed the yeshivah of Kabbalists in Damascus. Yet when he began studying with the holy Ari, he understood nothing, and what little he did understand he quickly forgot. This continued until the Arizal took him to Lake Kinneret. They rented a boat and sailed to a certain place, where the Ari instructed Rabbi Chaim to draw some water, recite a berachah, and drink it. According to Rabbi Chaim Vital, this water illuminated his mind and opened his heart, and he began to understand and remember what the Ari revealed to him. All the books of the Arizal known to us today reached us through his student, Rabbi Chaim Vital. The water he drank from Kinneret was the water of Miriam’s Well, which at that moment was located in that part of the lake. Pirkei Avot states that the world stands on three foundations: Torah (Moshe), divine service (Aharon), and acts of kindness (Miriam). In Miriam’s merit, the Jewish people were always accompanied by a special well of water. When Miriam died, the foundation of kindness upon which the world stands was shaken. As a result, the water disappeared. At the command of the Almighty, Moshe and Aharon strengthened this foundation and restored the water to us. Since then, Miriam’s Well has accompanied us everywhere, passing from one source of water to another. Whoever merits tasting its water receives a special infusion of holiness, as happened with Rabbi Chaim Vital. (Rabbi Yaakov Doktor)   Locusts It is known that the great Arizal attained such a lofty spiritual level that he could foresee events long before they were to occur. One day in Tzfat, while studying Torah with his students, Rabbi Luria suddenly said: —“My friends! A calamity is approaching Tzfat—locusts will destroy all the vegetation in the city and its surroundings. The crops will be ruined, and the city’s inhabitants will face famine. All this is because a Tzfat resident, the righteous man Yaakov Alterin, complained to the Almighty that he had found himself in a difficult situation and no one had come to help him. And the Creator accepted his complaint… Let us collect money for Yaakov Alterin. Perhaps then the Almighty will have mercy on us and rescind His decree.” The students immediately set to work and collected a certain sum. The Arizal entrusted one of them with delivering the money. Rabbi Yitzchak’s student entered Yaakov Alterin’s modest home and saw that he was mourning his unfortunate fate—exactly as the Teacher had described the situation. After handing Yaakov the collected sum and apologizing that he had had to wait so long for assistance, the student asked him not to complain to Heaven about his life anymore. —You complained so bitterly,” the messenger explained to Alterin, “that now all of Tzfat is threatened by calamity.” Upon hearing this, the righteous Yaakov Alterin immediately cried out to the Almighty with all his heart, asking Him to rescind the decree and not punish the inhabitants of Tzfat. Having completed his mission, the student returned to the beit midrash. The Arizal met him at the entrance and announced: “The decree has been rescinded!” However, several hours later, an enormous cloud of locusts approached Tzfat. The students watched in horror as the advancing “black cloud” drew near. But the Arizal reassured them. —Do not be afraid!” he said. “We have rectified the situation, and the Almighty has rescinded the decree. Nothing bad will happen to us now.” The Teacher had not finished his final sentence when a powerful wind suddenly arose, swept up the locusts, and carried the “cloud” toward the sea. From then on, the residents of Tzfat, having seen how greatly concern for one’s fellow affects their fate, watched zealously to ensure that no needy person in the city was left without assistance.   When One’s Wife Is a Tikkun One day, a Jewish man came to the Arizal and complained about his wife. —My wife,” he said, “does everything contrary to my wishes. Living with her is simply unbearable. Perhaps I should divorce her?” The Arizal, a great mystic who could see what was hidden, answered him: —This is your tikkun (your rectification). Through her, you can rectify the flaws in your soul. In your previous incarnation, the situation was reversed: you were the negative party. The husband accepted his words and completely changed his perspective on what was happening. He understood that there was no reason to become upset, because each time his wife tried to distress him, some defect in his soul was being rectified. She continued to cause all kinds of trouble. But the worse she behaved, the happier he became. She tried with all her might to upset him, while he merely smiled, thanked her, gave her gifts, and loved her even more. At last, she could bear it no longer and asked what had happened. He repeated the Arizal’s words to her. —I am going to be your rectification?! she protested. —Forget it! From that moment on, she became the most loving wife, doing everything her husband needed and trying to please him in every way. Several days later, the husband fell into a panic. He went to the Arizal again and complained: —My wife is so bad that she does not want to perform the tikkun I need so badly. The Arizal reassured him: —You have already received your tikkun. She changed her attitude toward you not of her own whim, but because Heaven saw that you treated your difficult wife with genuine love and gratitude. That was the rectification your soul required.   The Shoulder and Birkat Hamazon One day, Rabbi Chaim Vital, of blessed memory, suffered severe pain in his shoulder. The Holy Ari asked him: “Do you always recite Birkat Hamazon immediately after washing your fingers following the meal (mayim acharonim)?” Rabbi Chaim Vital admitted that he did not always pay attention to this. The Arizal replied: —“That is precisely why your shoulder hurts: the letters of the word ‘shoulder’—(KaTeF) are the same as those of the word ‘immediately’—(TeHeF) (as the Sages teach in Berachot 42a). Since you violated the rule that the blessing must follow the washing immediately, you were given this hint through pain in your shoulder.” (Sha’ar HaMitzvot, Eikev, p. 106)   The Best Trial One day, the Arizal asked his students: —“How would you like to atone for your sins: —Would you like to endure poverty?” —The students answered: “No.” —“Illness?”—the students answered: “No.” —“Quarrels with your neighbors?”—the students answered: “No.” —“Exile?”—the students answered: “No.” Then he said to them: —“If so, accept humiliation and insults with love—and that will atone for your sins!”   Reading Sins on the Forehead The students of the Ari HaKadosh related that every day the Ari would gaze at their foreheads and read the verse from the Torah shining there; he would then explain to each student the significance of that verse, which was somehow connected that day with the student’s soul. He was also able to see what merits and what transgressions the person had. One day, the Ari read two verses from the Torah on the forehead of Rabbi Avraham Galanti: “Do not oppress your fellow” and “Do not rob!” Rabbi Avraham hurried to the tailor’s workshop he owned and asked the workers whether he owed any of them money. They all answered in the negative, so Rabbi Avraham placed money before them and invited each person to take as much as he believed was owed to him. In the end, it emerged that one woman who took work home had received slightly less money the previous day than she had expected. After reimbursing her for the loss, Rabbi Avraham returned to the Arizal, who announced this time that the verses accusing Rabbi Avraham had disappeared from his forehead, adding: “In this world, we attach no importance to such minor matters; yet there, in the higher worlds, they are treated with the utmost severity.” (Based on the book "Arizal – The Great Kabbalist") On another occasion, the Arizal rebuked one of his students and said that he had violated the mitzvah of honoring his parents. When the astonished student indicated that he could not recall committing such a transgression, the Arizal pointed to his forehead and said that three consecutive letters were written there: א ב ג—and that the first two letters, א ב, form the word “father,” while the letter ג was imprinted on his forehead facing away from the first letters that form the word “father.” Since the letter ג represents “Gemilut Chasadim” (acts of kindness), the Ari HaKadosh understood this as a violation of the commandment to honor one’s parents.