When the great Rabbi Israel Ba’al Shem-Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light the fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted.
Years later when a disciple of the Ba’al Shem-Tov, the celebrated Magid of Mezritch, had occasion for the same reason, to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: “Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayer,” and again the miracle would be accomplished.
Still later, another rabbi, Rabbi Moshe-leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say, “I do not know how to light the fire. I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient.” It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished.
The years passed. And it fell to Rabbi Israel of Ryzhyn to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: “I am unable to light the fire, and I do not know the prayer, and I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is tell the story, and this must be sufficient.” And it was sufficient.
(by Elie Wiesel, from The Gates of the Forest.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about stories lately, which is also the Soul Matters Theme for January. As I watched the funeral procession and initial rites of former President Jimmy Carter at the nation’s capital yesterday as he lay in state, I was drawn back to that time in my life when he was elected President. I was in middle school. Gas was $0.35 a gallon. I did not know what an energy crisis was but I heard my parents and others talking about rising prices.
We learned about how a Georgia peanut farmer had become Governor of Georgia and was now President. As a child, the vision that anyone could become Governor or President in this country was very exciting. Many of my peers and I dreamt during that time of what such a life would be.
Years later, I learned more about the Camp David Accords and the Iranian Hostage Crisis, which were critical moments in Carter’s presidency. I would learn how the next President maneuvered to ensure the hostages weren’t released until after the election. I became more aware of the complicated and often disappointing nature of politics. Most of us abandoned dreams of the presidency.
Still, years later I would witness Carter’s singular focus on the welfare of others. His work for Habitat for Humanity, his efforts to win the freedom of others held captive, and other foreign diplomacy efforts. I learned about his faith, which was very different from mine, but I respected the way he lived and what he understood to be the Christian ethic.
I was less inspired to be a politician and more inspired to actualize my faith in real ways in the world. The image of one who could craft a legacy out of humble attempts to make the world better right were it touched us, with those closest to us, has become a lifetime effort. And it turns out, this has been more than sufficient for a life of meaning, hope, and love.
I wish the same for all of you.
Blessings,
Aaron
