A Shabbat Story: A Brit Milah in London and the Blessing That Changed Everything

I heard this story firsthand from someone directly involved, one of the beloved students of the great Torah sage, Rabbi Michal Yehuda Lipkowitz, whose yahrzeit (anniversary of passing) is on the 26th of Sivan. The story was shared with names and details, though I’ll respectfully keep those private.

Rabbi Shmuel (his real name), a devoted student of Rabbi Lipkowitz, was a passionate Torah educator deeply involved in kiruv, bringing fellow Jews closer to Hashem. He founded a large and impactful organization for Torah learning and Jewish outreach in a major city. I was personally connected to these efforts and saw how deeply he cared.

Like most Torah and chesed (kindness) initiatives, the organization didn’t receive government funding, and even the limited support it did receive didn’t begin to cover the true costs of helping so many people. Who sustained the work? Generous Jews in Israel and around the world who wanted to support the growth of Torah.

At one point, Rabbi Shmuel helped create a “Friends Committee” in London, Jews who cared deeply about Jewish education and agreed to help fundraise regularly. But they had one condition: “We’re involved in many community responsibilities. You need to appoint someone reliable and capable to coordinate with us and keep everything organized.”

They recommended Mr. A for the job. Rabbi Shmuel met with him, explained the importance of the role, and tried to persuade him. But Mr. A hesitated. He was overwhelmed with other responsibilities and didn’t feel he could take it on.

Just before Rabbi Shmuel left, a voice called from inside the home, Mr. A’s wife. He asked his guest to wait and stepped into the other room. After ten minutes, he returned with a surprising proposal. “My wife and I have been married for six years without children. If you can get a promise from your rabbi, Rabbi Lipkowitz, that we’ll have a baby boy, I’ll gladly take the position.”

Rabbi Shmuel was taken aback. How could he make such a promise? And would Rabbi Lipkowitz even agree to give a blessing like that? He suggested that Mr. A come with him to Eretz Yisrael so they could meet the great Rav together and ask for a blessing in person.

Some months later, they stood together in the small home of Rabbi Lipkowitz in Bnei Brak. Mr. A shared his heartfelt request: a bracha (blessing) for a baby boy.

Rabbi Lipkowitz didn’t promise, but he gave a powerful blessing: “May it be Hashem’s will that in the merit of your help in bringing Jews closer to the Creator, you be blessed with holy children.” Mr. A didn’t hesitate, he accepted the blessing with full faith, as if the promise had already been fulfilled.

Sure enough, nine months later, an excited phone call came from London. With Hashem’s help, twins had been born to the couple, a boy and a girl.

But the story doesn’t end there.

Some time earlier, another man, a wealthy Jew from London had entered Rabbi Lipkowitz’s room with tears in his eyes. He was under serious investigation for alleged financial crimes, and the authorities were threatening him with prison. He was broken and desperate.

The elderly rabbi listened with compassion and told him: “Return to London. Find a brit milah (circumcision ceremony) near your home. Pray there with all your heart, and Hashem will help.” The rabbi was clear it had to be a brit in London, not in Israel.

The man returned home, but strangely, for several months he couldn’t find a single brit to attend. When he finally heard of one, he rushed to be there and poured out his heart in prayer.

That brit? It was for the son of Mr. A, the baby born from Rabbi Lipkowitz’s blessing.

Two days later, the wealthy man received a letter in the mail. The case against him had been closed. All charges dropped.

One brit. Two miracles. One simple, profound message: never underestimate the power of a mitzvah, the strength of a blessing, or the quiet ways Hashem watches over us.