Neighbors
A story of the Baal Shem Tov
In a certain city, in a certain building, lived two men. One was a brilliant Torah scholar, whose life was dedicated to learning, and who never left the study-hall. The other was a simple worker, who lived “by the sweat of his brow.”
The Torah scholar would rise before dawn, study several hours, meditate an hour before prayer, then pray with tremendous concentration. He would continue his studies the entire day, breaking only to eat. Finally, he would return home late at night, happy with all the Torah he had learnt and the prayers he had recited.
The simple worker would also rise early, but he would run to shul and speed through the prayers with almost no concentration. Then he would rush off to his difficult job, only to return home in the evening, broken and exhausted. He would grab a quick bite, then run off to the study hall. Being too tired to open a book or listen to a lecture, he made do with a quick evening prayer, then returned home to collapse on his bed. His soul was troubled over his difficult life.
Every morning these two men would meet, since the doors of their homes were adjacent. Whenever the poor man would see his neighbor, the scholar, and realize how his life was filled with Torah, he would let out a deep sigh. And when the scholar would see the poor worker, whose life was empty of Torah and prayer, he would give him a disparaging look, as if to say, “See how different you and I are. . .”
The two men eventually passed away and appeared before the Heavenly Court. The scholar came with all of his learning at hand; the worker came with nothing.
“Do you see all of this Torah study, and the magnificent prayers of this rabbi?” the scholar’s defending angel said, as he piled up mounds and mounds of chidushei Torah and shining prayers.
“But he was arrogant in his learning, and belittled his poor neighbor,” the accusing angel said.
The poor man was brought forth next. He stood trembling before the Heavenly Tribunal.
“What do you have to show for yourself?” they asked.
“Nothing,” he sighed. “All my life I slaved for a living, and I had no time for Torah study.”
The court brought the scales. On one side, they piled up all the scholar’s study and prayers, and on the other side, his disdain for his poor neighbor. The disdain outweighed them all.
Next, onto the scale they put the poor man’s entire life—devoid of Torah and prayer, and on the other side, his heartbreaking sigh at seeing his scholarly neighbor.
The sigh pushed the scales all the way down.
The Torah scholar would rise before dawn, study several hours, meditate an hour before prayer, then pray with tremendous concentration. He would continue his studies the entire day, breaking only to eat. Finally, he would return home late at night, happy with all the Torah he had learnt and the prayers he had recited.
The simple worker would also rise early, but he would run to shul and speed through the prayers with almost no concentration. Then he would rush off to his difficult job, only to return home in the evening, broken and exhausted. He would grab a quick bite, then run off to the study hall. Being too tired to open a book or listen to a lecture, he made do with a quick evening prayer, then returned home to collapse on his bed. His soul was troubled over his difficult life.
Every morning these two men would meet, since the doors of their homes were adjacent. Whenever the poor man would see his neighbor, the scholar, and realize how his life was filled with Torah, he would let out a deep sigh. And when the scholar would see the poor worker, whose life was empty of Torah and prayer, he would give him a disparaging look, as if to say, “See how different you and I are. . .”
The two men eventually passed away and appeared before the Heavenly Court. The scholar came with all of his learning at hand; the worker came with nothing.
“Do you see all of this Torah study, and the magnificent prayers of this rabbi?” the scholar’s defending angel said, as he piled up mounds and mounds of chidushei Torah and shining prayers.
“But he was arrogant in his learning, and belittled his poor neighbor,” the accusing angel said.
The poor man was brought forth next. He stood trembling before the Heavenly Tribunal.
“What do you have to show for yourself?” they asked.
“Nothing,” he sighed. “All my life I slaved for a living, and I had no time for Torah study.”
The court brought the scales. On one side, they piled up all the scholar’s study and prayers, and on the other side, his disdain for his poor neighbor. The disdain outweighed them all.
Next, onto the scale they put the poor man’s entire life—devoid of Torah and prayer, and on the other side, his heartbreaking sigh at seeing his scholarly neighbor.
The sigh pushed the scales all the way down.