Rabbi Boruch of Medzhybizh

Rabbi Boruch of Medzhybizh (1753–1811) was the grandson of the Baal Shem Tov. Reb Boruch (known in childhood as Reb Boruchl, a Yiddish diminutive, and later as Reb Boruchl HaKadosh) was the first major "Rebbe" of the Chassidic movement to hold court in Medzhybizh, his grandfather's hometown, in the Beit Midrash he inherited. Yahrzeit - 18 Kislev Resting place - Medzhybizh   As recorded in the early Chassidic work "Mekor Boruch" (first published in 1880), at the time of the Baal Shem Tov's passing, Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz and Rabbi Yaakov Yosef of Polonne, two of the Baal Shem Tov's closest disciples, informed the chassidim that the Baal Shem Tov had appointed Reb Boruch as his successor and had charged Reb Pinchas with carrying this out. Rebbe Boruch was only seven years old when his grandfather passed away, and he grew up in the home of Reb Pinchas, where other close disciples of the Baal Shem Tov and other leaders of the Chassidic movement would regularly come to check on his progress and help prepare him for his mission - to take on his grandfather's mantle. Reb Boruch remained with Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz until the Chevra Kadisha, as the close circle of the Baal Shem Tov's disciples was called, felt that he was ready to become Rebbe and return to Medzhybizh. Rabbi Boruchl was appointed Rebbe around 1782. He led his court according to the principle of malchut (royalty). He led his court in Tulchin from 1788 to 1800, after which he moved to Medzhybizh. There he built a spacious, luxurious residence, where he kept a carriage and horses in the stable. Many of his grandfather's disciples and the great Chassidic leaders of that era regularly visited Rebbe Boruch, as he was called, including the Maggid of Chernobyl, the Maggid of Mezeritch, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (founder of Chabad), the Chozeh of Lublin, and others. Reb Boruch was known for his melancholy, his fiery temper, and his uncompromising force of will. His guiding principle of malchut was a subject of much controversy among the Chassidic leadership of his generation. Reb Boruch was the first Chassidic leader to accumulate great wealth from his followers through the practice of petek and pidyonot. In other words, he received donations and gifts in exchange for personal requests or prayers. He claimed to his followers that he possessed supernatural powers derived directly from his blood connection to the Baal Shem Tov. In 1808, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi visited Reb Boruch in Medzhybizh to settle their disagreements. At that time, Reb Boruch was outraged by the publication of the "Tanya" and by Rabbi Shneur Zalman's insistence that communal funds be allocated free of charge for charitable purposes. Many stories are connected with this visit, most of which end with Reb Boruch's temper getting the better of him. Ultimately, the visit led to the expulsion of Rabbi Shneur Zalman and his followers from Podolia. In his later years, Reb Boruch sank into melancholy. In an attempt to cure his melancholy, his followers brought in Hershel of Ostropol as a kind of court jester. Hershel was one of the first documented Jewish comedians, and his exploits became legendary in both the Jewish and non-Jewish communities. One story says that in a fit of anger, Reb Boruch himself was responsible for Hershel's death. Rabbi Boruch was one of the outstanding Rebbes of the generation of the Maggid of Mezeritch's disciples and had thousands of chassidim. His brother was the renowned tzadik Rabbi Moshe Chaim Efraim of Sidilkov. His discourses on the Torah were recorded in the work Botzina D'Nehora (Hebrew).   On Herbs and Healing... In the name of Rabbi Boruch, an explanation of the verse has come down to us: "...he shall provide for complete healing (v'rapo yerapei)." He said that a (medicinal) herb heals the sick person, and the sick person heals the herb. "When the Almighty decrees that a person must undergo suffering, the suffering must strike him at a certain time and cease at a certain time, through a certain person and in response to a certain treatment." (Talmud, Avodah Zarah 55a) Why must a person's suffering unfold in this manner? It is all for the sake of the herb, which must find its Tikun (healing, rectification) by healing the person. When Adam fell from his lofty spiritual level as a result of tasting from the Tree of Knowledge, many sparks were overturned and fell below. Every act of eating or drinking serves to return these sparks to their proper place, thereby bringing the world closer to perfection. How can a bitter and poisonous herb find its Tikun? When it is the right remedy for a particular sick person, and he takes it with the proper intentions, then the Tikun occurs, and the herb has its effect and restores its sparks. This is what the Sages meant by "through a certain person." This refers to the sick person. As Rav Boruch said, "the sick person heals the herb."   Chanukah and the Vanishing Flame It was the first night of Chanukah. Outside, a snowstorm raged, but inside it was calm and warm. Rebbe Boruch of Medzhybizh stood before the menorah, surrounded by a crowd of his chassidim. He recited the blessings with great devotion, lit the single candle, placed the shamash in its designated spot, and began singing Ha Nairot Halalu. His face radiated holiness and joy, and the awestruck chassidim gazed at him intently. The candle's flame burned brightly. The Rebbe and the chassidim sat together and sang Maoz Tzur and other Chanukah songs. Suddenly the candle began to flicker and jump wildly, even though there wasn't the slightest breeze in the house. It looked as if it were dancing. Or struggling. And then it vanished! It didn't go out — there was no smoke, it simply was no longer there. As if it had flown off somewhere else. The Rebbe himself seemed to sink into his thoughts. His attendant came forward to relight the wick, but the Rebbe waved him off. He gestured for the chassidim to continue singing. Several times, between melodies, the Rebbe spoke words of Torah. The evening passed delightfully, and the chassidim present almost forgot about the disappearance of the Chanukah candle. It was around midnight when the sharp sound of wagon wheels grinding over snow and ice shattered the calm. The door burst open, and in came a chassid from a distant village. His appearance was shocking. His clothes were torn and filthy, his face swollen and bleeding. And yet, in stark contrast to his physical condition, his eyes sparkled and his features shone with joy. He sat down at the table and, with all eyes fixed on him, began speaking excitedly. "This isn't the first time I've come to Medzhybizh by the forest route, and I know the road well. But this week there was a terrible snowstorm that greatly slowed my progress. I began to worry that I wouldn't make it in time to be with the Rebbe on the first night of Chanukah. This thought troubled me so much that I decided not to wait out the storm, but to push forward and travel day and night, hoping I could reach my destination in time. It was a foolish idea, I must admit, but I didn't realize it until it was too late. Last night I ran into a band of bandits who were quite pleased to encounter me. They decided that if I was traveling in such weather, at night, alone, then I must be a wealthy merchant whose business could not wait. They demanded that I hand over all my money. I tried to explain, I begged them, but they flatly refused to believe that I had no money. They seized my horses by the reins and jumped onto my wagon. They sat on either side of me to keep a close watch on me, and then drove me and my wagon to meet with their leader to decide my fate. While they waited for their leader to arrive, they interrogated and cross-examined me down to the smallest detail, searched me and the wagon, and beat me, trying to extract from me the secret of where I had hidden my money. I had nothing to tell them but the truth, which they were not willing to accept. After several hours of this torment, they tied me up and threw me, wounded and exhausted, into a dark cellar. I was bleeding from the wounds they had inflicted, and my whole body ached with pain. I lay there until evening, when the gang leader came to speak with me. I did my best to describe to him how important it was for me to reach the Rebbe by the start of the holiday, that it was worth risking my safety by setting out at night. It seems my words made an impression on him, or perhaps he was convinced by my resolve even under torture. But whatever the reason, thank G-d, he freed me from my restraints, saying: "I sense that your faith in G-d is strong, and your desire to be with your Rebbe is genuine and powerful. Now we shall see if this is true. I will let you go, but you should know that this road is extremely dangerous. Even the toughest men never venture into the heart of the forest alone, only in groups, and especially not in a storm or at night. You may go and try your luck. And I tell you, if you pass safely through the forest and the other terrible conditions, unharmed by fierce wild beasts or anything else, then I will disband my gang and mend my ways. If you truly reach the outskirts of the town, throw your handkerchief into the ditch beside the road, behind the signpost there. One of my men will be waiting, and that is how I will know you made it." At first I was frightened. The hardships I had endured were imprinted on my soul, and now even more terrifying nightmares awaited me. But when I thought about how wonderful it would be to be with the Rebbe at the lighting of the menorah, I cast aside all my fears and resolved not to delay for even a minute. My horse and carriage were returned to me, and I set off. All around was pitch darkness. I heard the cries of forest beasts, and they sounded very close. I feared I was surrounded by a pack of ferocious wolves. I climbed onto the horse and spurred it on. It refused to move in the pitch darkness. I whipped it. It didn't budge. I had no idea what to do. At that moment, a small light flickered in front of the carriage. The horse eagerly stepped toward it. The light drew closer. The horse followed it. Along the way, wild animals fled from us, as if the tiny dancing flame were driving them off. We followed this flame all the way here. I fulfilled my part of the bargain and threw my handkerchief in the designated spot. Who knows? Perhaps these cruel bandits will change their ways, all because of this little light." Only then did the chassidim notice that the Rebbe's Chanukah light had returned. There it was, burning in the ornate menorah, its flame strong and pure, as if it had just been lit.   When No One Is Searching There is a well-known story about Rabbi Boruch's grandson, who once came running to him in tears, demanding comfort. It turned out that while playing hide-and-seek with a friend, the grandson had hidden for a very long time — and then, peeking out, saw that his friend, having become absorbed in another game, had given no thought to looking for him. Upon hearing the child's account, Rabbi Boruch burst into tears together with him, lamenting: "The same thing has happened with G-d — He has hidden Himself, but no one wants to seek Him out." (Gedolei HaDorot).   The Rebbe of Skole – a descendant of Rabbi Boruch of Medzhybizh – passed down to his students a segula received from Rebbe Boruch, which he bequeathed: whoever recites the chapters of Tehillim in the following order will be guaranteed success in all things. The order of the Tehillim chapters is: 4, 17, 63, 65, 116, 137, 138, 150. (Zchut Avot) May the merit of the tzadik protect Am Yisrael! https://dailyzohar.com/tzadikim/481-Rabbi-Boruch-of-Medzhybizh