cellio | tradition and innovation

(Thoughts inspired by my rabbi, who told the two stories here at the tikkun.)

It is said that when the Ba'al Shem Tov (founder of Chasidism) faced a difficult problem and sought divine help, he went to a particular place in the forest, built a fire in a special way, and said a special prayer, and his prayer was answered. Later his student, the Magid, faced a similar problem, but when he went to the place he said "God, I do not know how to build the fire, but I have come to the place and I know the prayer", and his prayer was answered. His student went to the woods and said "God, I do not know how to build the fire, and I do not know the prayer, but I have come to the place", and his prayer was answered. Finally, his student sat at his desk and said "God, I do not know how to build the fire, and I do not know the prayer, and I do not know the place, but I know the story" -- and his prayer, too, was answered.

It's a quaint story, but I hesitate to take a lesson from it. If I don't know, isn't it my obligation to learn? Was there no one alive who could tell the Magid how to build the fire, or tell the Magid's student the prayer, or tell the student's student the place? We make the best of things when knowledge has been lost, but that doesn't absolve us from trying to recover it if we can.

But on the other hand, we should also not presume that there is one correct way to do things, least of all one correct way to approach God. Maybe a heartfelt prayer is more important than the precise words used by your master. Maybe the student should not try to be the Ba'al Shem Tov but should, instead, be the best Magid he can be. Maybe that is what God wants from us.

Another story: when Reb Zusia grew old, he told his students that he feared his impending death. They asked why he should fear when he had achieved so much. But, Reb Zusia said, God will not ask me "why weren't you as great as Moshe?", or "why weren't you as great as Avraham?"; rather, he will ask "why weren't you as great as Zusia?", and I will not know what to say.

We have conflicting tasks. We must work to keep knowledge alive, but we must not just cling to that and say we're done. We have to study not only the past but ourselves; we have to both preserve and innovate, and we have to figure out how to balance the two, to know when to use the Ba'al Shem Tov's prayer and when to use our own.