One Night of Self-Sacrifice That Changed Everything: Rabbi Pincus’ Story

Rabbi Shimshon Pincus was known for the fire of love for Hashem that radiated from every word he spoke. His powerful sermons lit a spark in the hearts of thousands, and every mitzvah he did was filled with passion and meaning. Whether between people or between man and Hashem, Rabbi Pincus poured his entire soul into each commandment.

But where did this greatness begin? What was the moment that shifted his path so deeply toward holiness?

In a rare moment of honesty, Rabbi Pincus once shared the answer with his close students. The story appears in the introduction to his Haggadah, “Tiferet Shimshon.”

Years ago, while studying at the Brisk Yeshiva, he lived in an apartment with other students. Being from America, he didn’t go home for Pesach, so he found himself alone the night of Bedikat Chametz (the search for leaven). That made him responsible for checking the entire apartment for chametz.

It was a big, old apartment, and quite messy. The search took hours. Rabbi Pincus cleared furniture, cleaned neglected corners, and inspected every space with care. Exhausted, he finally sat down near midnight, relieved and satisfied.

But then he remembered the attic.

Technically, the attic was shared by all the tenants, and it wasn’t fully his responsibility. Still, he knew the truth: if he didn’t go check it, no one else would. He debated. He was tired and he had already gone above and beyond the requirement. But deep down, he knew his hesitation came not from halachah (Jewish law), but from physical exhaustion.

He stood up and said to himself, “I’m doing this with mesirut nefesh (with self-sacrifice).” He climbed the creaky stairs to the attic. When he opened the dusty door, he was stunned. It looked like no one had touched it in years. Dust was everywhere, and old junk was piled in the corners. He immediately remembered a law in the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law): “Before searching for chametz, the area must be cleaned.”

Even though he was drained, he refused to give up. He grabbed water buckets and began cleaning. Alone, in the middle of the night, covered in dirt, this young American yeshiva student worked with all his might. Only at dawn did he finish the mitzvah.

He skipped sleep and went straight to daven (pray) in the morning. Afterward came the mitzvah of burning chametz. Though his body was crying out for rest, Rabbi Pincus pushed forward.

“I was sure I’d fall asleep during the Seder,” he recalled. “But when I began to daven Maariv that evening, I felt something amazing. A sweetness, a closeness to Hashem I had never felt before washed over me.”

He stayed fully awake during the Seder, energized by spiritual joy. He read the Haggadah with a sense of wonder. Each word felt alive. He felt connected, awake, and uplifted throughout the entire night. Even the mitzvot of eating matzah, maror, and drinking the four cups of wine were filled with new meaning and joy.

What surprised him even more was that the feeling didn’t fade. “The next day, and throughout Chol HaMoed (the intermediate days of the festival), I felt like I was floating. I couldn’t stop learning. I couldn’t stop praying. I didn’t want it to end.”

When the seventh day of Pesach came, which that year was followed immediately by Shabbat, he felt a deep fear. “I was afraid the holiness would leave me once the holiday ended. But I reminded myself: Shabbat is even holier.”

And to his surprise, it was.

“On that Shabbat, I felt for the first time in my life the true sweetness of Shabbat. And from that moment on, everything began to change.”

Rabbi Pincus ended his personal story with this quiet reflection: “If there is anything worthwhile in me today, it all began from that one rabbinic mitzvah, searching for chametz, which I fulfilled with self-sacrifice.”