The Greatness of Rabbi Aharon of Karlin: Legendary Stories and Teachings from the Chassidic Masters

Rabbi Yitzchok of Boyan, author of Pachad Yitzchak, said that in the tradition of the Ruzhin dynasty, the holy Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk and Rabbi Aharon the Great of Karlin, were considered the greatest of all students of the Maggid of Mezritch.

In their inner circle were also the towering saints:

• Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk and his brother Rabbi Zusha,

• the Me’or Einayim,

• the Kedushas Levi,

• the Or HaMe’ir, and many more.

(R’ Eliezer Dovid Friedman, “Mipi Sefarim u’Sofrim,” vol. II, p. 178)

What Is the Difference Between Me and My Rebbe?

A disciple once came to Rabbi Aharon the Great of Karlin. He saw the Rebbe recite the blessing Borei Pri Ha’etz and eat an apple. A thought flickered in his mind:

“I also eat apples and say the blessing. What is the difference between me and the Rebbe?”

Rabbi Aharon immediately sensed the thought. He turned to the chassid and said: “Tell me, my dear Arel — what truly is the difference? I say Borei Pri Ha’etz and eat an apple, and you also say Borei Pri Ha’etz and eat an apple. What’s the difference?”

Rabbi Aharon explained: “In the morning, on my way to daven Shacharis, I see an apple tree. My entire being fills with holy wonder — How beautiful are the works of Hashem! I feel deeply moved: How great are Your works, Hashem; You made them all with wisdom!

From that joy in Hashem, a longing arises in me to bless Him for creating such trees and fruits in which His Divinity is seen. The blessing nearly bursts from my lips.

But I restrain myself, because without actually eating the fruit I may not bless. So I take an apple — not because I crave the apple, but because I crave the opportunity to bless Hashem. I say the blessing and taste the apple only so the blessing will not be in vain.

And you,” the Rebbe continued, “also say the blessing — but with a small difference:

You pass the apple tree in the morning and from afar already see the juicy apples. You desire them. You examine the tree from every angle, admiring the red one, the yellow one, imagining the taste — this one sweet, this one tart… You crave apples.

But you know you cannot buy apples without money. So you finish Shacharis and go do some business. With some earnings, you hurry to the market, buy beautiful apples, arrange them at home — the red, the yellow, the big, the small, the sweet, the tart. You peel them and are ready to enjoy them.

At the last moment, you remember: Oh no! I am a Jew. If I eat without a blessing, Hashem may punish me, and I could lose my teeth! How will I eat apples tomorrow? So you recite Borei Pri Ha’etz and then you eat.

So,” concluded Rabbi Aharon, “We both eat apples, and we both bless Borei Pri Ha’etz — but the difference is this: I eat an apple so that I may bless Hashem. You bless Hashem so that you may eat an apple.”

(R’ Shalom Mordechai HaCohen Shvadron, “Lev Shalom,” p. 72)

“Aharon the Madman”: Three Stories from the Rebbe’s Youth

Rabbi Meir of Premishlan related that in the youth of Rabbi Aharon of Karlin, the masses mockingly called him “Aharon the Madman.” Three strange incidents were the cause:

1. Blessing the Trees (Birkat Ha’Ilanot)

One spring, he wished to recite Birkat Ha’Ilanot but found flowering trees only in the priest’s garden, which was fenced. He leapt over the fence. The priest saw him and became furious. Rabbi Aharon panicked, jumped back over the fence, and in his leap, his head covering fell off. Not wanting to walk four cubits without a head covering, he pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his head as he ran through town. People laughed at him.

2. Immersing in the Mikveh

Once he longed to immerse in a mikveh but none was available. There was a deep communal well with a bucket attached by rope. He climbed into the bucket to lower himself for immersion — but afterward he could not climb out. He cried for help until someone hoisted him up together with the bucket. Again people mocked him.

3. Suspected Shatnez

On another occasion he learned that his clothing might contain shatnez. He immediately removed his garments in the middle of the street, remaining only in his undershirt. People again mocked him.

Later, the holy Rabbi Dovid Perkos, a great disciple of the Baal Shem Tov, visited the city. When people asked why he was speaking so long with “the madman,” he answered: “He is no madman at all. He only needs to be shown the path — and he will become a great towering tree in Israel.”

(R’ Yisrael Shimon Kastelnitz, “MiZekenim Esbonen,” vol. II, p. 324)

How the Maggid of Mezritch Brought Rabbi Aharon of Karlin Close

The Maggid longed to draw Rabbi Aharon near. He sent Rabbi Zusha of Anipoli to bring him. They met at an inn and spoke about divine service. Rabbi Zusha asked:

“When you recite Shema and meditate on the words ‘b’chol me’odecha’ (with all your might), and at that moment someone tells you that you lost all your money — or that you suddenly gained a great fortune, would you feel anything?”

Rabbi Aharon replied: “Give me an hour and I will answer.”

After contemplating, he responded: “I would indeed feel it, and it interrupts my concentration.”

Rabbi Zusha said: “Then you have not yet reached true service of the Creator. You must be stripped of all worldly sensation.”

Rabbi Aharon asked: “How does one achieve this?”

Rabbi Zusha answered: “You must travel to Mezritch.”

He listened — and never left.

(Letters of R’ Menachem Mendel Novokov, “Heichal HaBaal Shem Tov,” Tishrei 5766)

Why a Person Loses His Spiritual Inspiration

A chassid once approached Rabbi Aharon of Karlin:

“When I was young, I learned and prayed with fire and enthusiasm. I felt alive in all holy matters and expected to rise ever higher. Now it has all been taken from me — I feel no vitality in Torah or prayer. Why has this happened?”

Rabbi Aharon replied with a parable: A wealthy man had pity on his impoverished neighbor. He lent him a large sum so he could start a business. If the poor man is wise, he treats the money carefully, lives simply, and saves the profits so that even if he must repay the loan, he will have something left.

Sometimes, seeing the poor man succeed, the benefactor is pleased and says, “Keep the money as a gift.”

But if the recipient is foolish and wastes the money, by living lavishly on what he never earned, the benefactor becomes angry, demands repayment, and takes everything back. The man returns to poverty.

The same is true in service of God. Sometimes a tzaddik takes pity on a follower and shines upon him a great holy light. The follower begins to learn and pray with beautiful inspiration.

If he mistakenly believes the inspiration is his own achievement, pride enters his heart, and the tzaddik withdraws the gift, leaving him empty.

If however he recognizes that the light is not his, and he remains humble and broken-hearted, he becomes a vessel for the Shechina, then the tzaddik grants him even more, as a permanent gift.

This is the meaning of the verse: “Do not say: The earlier days were better than these” (Kohelet 7:10). The earlier inspiration was not yours — it was on loan. Now you must begin again with true humility, and then you will find fear of God.

(R’ Yitzchak Mordechai Padwa, “Ilana D’Chayei,” p. 219)