A Story for Shabbat: So the Fire Will Burn: A Shabbat Story of Hidden Holiness

“Travel to the city of Koritz,” said the holy Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Chassidic movement and known by his students as “the light of the seven days”, to one of his devoted disciples. “There you will meet a man named Rabbi Yitzchak. Ask to stay in his home. You will learn how to truly serve Hashem from him.”

The student didn’t question the instructions. He didn’t ask who Rabbi Yitzchak was or what made him special. With full faith in his rebbe, he packed his things and set off for the city of Koritz.

As soon as he arrived, he began asking around, expecting someone to know of this special Rabbi Yitzchak. But the first few people he spoke to looked puzzled. They had never heard of any learned or righteous man by that name.

Thinking he might have better luck at the local beit knesset (synagogue), he asked some of the older men who spent their days learning Torah there. Still, no one could help him. No one had ever heard of a tzaddik (righteous man) named Rabbi Yitzchak in Koritz.

But the student didn’t give up. For two full days, he continued asking everyone he passed: “Do you happen to know a man named Rabbi Yitzchak?”

On the third day, he met a man named Berel, something of a town gossip. When asked about Rabbi Yitzchak, Berel immediately began rattling off names and titles, trying to think of anyone who might fit. Then, his eyes lit up, though with a hint of doubt.

“There’s someone named Itzik’l,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think he’s who you’re looking for. He’s a simple, coarse man. Keeps to himself. He doesn’t even come to shul (synagogue) most days. But he’s the only one I can think of.”

With no other lead, the student made his way to the edge of town, where he found a large, rough-looking man standing outside a small house. Itzik was pulling salted fish from a big barrel in his yard.

“Shalom Aleichem, Rabbi Yitzchak,” the student said respectfully, assuming he had found the hidden tzaddik he had been sent to learn from.

“Rabbi Yitzchak?” the man scoffed. “I’m no rabbi. What do you want?”

The student kindly explained that he was a guest in town and asked to stay for a few days. Itzik agreed without hesitation.

Over the next few days, the student observed his host closely. Surely, he thought, there must be something extraordinary about this man. Maybe he would rise at midnight to say Tikkun Chatzot, or secretly study deep Kabbalistic texts. But no. What he saw was Itzik doing the same three things all day long: eating, preparing food, and taking brief naps.

When three days had passed, the student got ready to return to the Baal Shem Tov. Still puzzled, he asked Itzik one last question before leaving: “Why do you eat so much?”

Itzik looked him in the eye and quietly said, “When I was a small child, the non-Jews in our town tried to force my father to convert. He refused. They tied him to a stake and burned him and he gave up his life al kiddush Hashem, to sanctify Hashem’s name.”

“My father was thin and frail. The fire took him quickly. But as I watched, I made a promise in my heart. I said to myself: I will eat and eat and keep eating, so that if one day I am ever burned for the same holy reason, the fire will burn longer. And the name of Hashem will be honored even more.”

The student was silent.

When he returned to the Baal Shem Tov and shared what he had witnessed, the Baal Shem Tov smiled gently. “I sent you to the home of a simple man so that you would learn that even through something like eating and in great quantity, a person can serve Hashem constantly.”