R' Moshe Leib Sassov's Trip To Hell

At his grandson's circumcision celebration, the great Chasidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev (1740-1810), recounted the following episode:

"This morning I arose very early to prepare myself to perform the brit mila of my dear grandchild. At daybreak I opened the window and saw a penetrating darkness in the heavens. As I wondered about the blackness before my eyes, it was made known to me that this very day a prince of Israel, the holy Tzadik, Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Leib Sassov, had passed away.

"As I mourned for that master of Israel, I heard a voice cry out: 'Make way for Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Leib!'

"When Rabbi Moshe entered the celestial realms, the Tzadikim and Chasidim formed a joyous circle around him. Suddenly, he heard a voice reaching from one end of the world to the other. Intrigued, he began following it until he found himself at the gates of Gehinnom (Purgatory).

"Without waiting for permission, Rabbi Moshe entered Gehinnom. The guards saw him walking back and forth as if looking for somebody. They were certain that he had come there by mistake and they politely asked him to ascend to his proper place in Gan Eden (the Garden of Eden).

"Rabbi Moshe said nothing. The guards repeated their request, but he remained silent and did not move. They didn't know whether to drive him out or permit him to remain. They decided to confer with the Heavenly Court, but even it was puzzled. Never had a Tzadik descended into Gehinnom of his own desire. Rabbi Moshe was summoned before the Throne of Glory where he made his request known.

"Rabbi Moshe began, 'Master of the World, You know how great is the mitzva of redeeming captives. I have occupied myself with this mitzva my entire life, and I have never differentiated between wicked captives and righteous captives. All were equally beloved by me, and I had no peace until I had succeeded in freeing them. Now that I have entered the World of Truth, I find that there are many captives here, too. I wish to fulfill this mitzva here, as well.

"'I will not leave Gehinnom until I have fulfilled this mitzva. So dear are Your commandments to me that I have observed them no matter what the place or time or penalty might be. If I cannot bring these wretched souls to freedom, I would rather remain with them in the fires of Gehinnom than to sit with the righteous and bask in the light of the Divine Presence!'

"Rabbi Moshe's words flew before the Throne of Glory, and the Holy One, Blessed be He, uttered the decision: 'Great are the Tzadikim who are ready to relinquish their share in the Gan Eden for the sake of others. Because this mitzva is so noble, let it be calculated how many people Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Leib redeemed during his lifetime, both they and their children, and their children's children until the end of time. That number he may redeem here, also.'

"The Book of Records was immediately brought, opened and read. The names of all those who had been redeemed by Rabbi Moshe were counted and their children and their children's children. The final figure arrived at was sixty-thousand souls from Gehinnom to Gan Eden.

"Rabbi Moshe began to walk through Gehinnom, looking into countless pits and caves where he found souls who had suffered for hundreds of years and who had long ago lost all hope of redemption. One by one he gathered them and when he was finished, he found their number to be exactly sixty-thousand. Column after column emerged from Gehinnom, marching with them at their head, until they arrived at Gan Eden.

"When all sixty thousand souls had entered, the gates were closed."

After recounting this story, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak named his little grandson Moshe Yehuda Leib and blessed him to grow up to emulate the holy Tzadik, Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Leib of Sassov.

From The Crown of Creation, by Chana Weisberg, published by Mosaic Press

A Bris In Communist Russia

It was Stalinist Russia. The sudden banging on the door made the occupants' blood run cold. The knocking was getting louder. They were about to sneak out the back exit when the older of the two suggested that the younger one stay behind. It was better to wait a few minutes before opening the door.
The banging continued even more vigorously. "Who's there?" the youngster called out, but the stranger refused to identify himself. The youth flung open the door. Standing there was a high-ranking officer of the KGB. "Is this where the shochet lives?" the officer demanded.
"Shochet?" he replied. "There's no one here by the name of Shochet."
The officer gave him a penetrating look and said, "Then perhaps there's someone here who cuts children?"
"No," he said in the most confident tone he could muster.
For a moment the stranger said nothing. Then he whispered in the boy's ear: "Don't deny it. I know that the man who cuts children lives here!" The youth was shocked, for the man had uttered these words in Yiddish!"
"I am a Jew. Seven days ago my wife gave birth to a baby boy, and I want very much for him to be entered into the covenant of Abraham. My wife is very much opposed to the idea. Tomorrow at exactly nine in the morning she will be leaving the house. I am begging you to come to my house tomorrow and bring the mohel. The baby will be in one of the front rooms."
The officer told the astounded youngster his address and hurried away. "Remember," he said pleadingly, "Tomorrow is the eighth day of my son's life. I implore you to do me this favor."
Reb Eizik was the only shochet and mohel in the entire city, and Yaakov, a boy with no living relatives in the world, had been taken in to live with the shochet and accompanied him on his holy and very dangerous rounds.
The officer left. Was it a trap? Yaakov was convinced that it was a clever ruse cooked up to catch Reb Eizik red-handed. When Reb Eizik came home, Yaakov filled him in on everything. The Chasid thought for several minutes, the deep wrinkles that lined his forehead testifying to his inner conflict and turmoil. He had reached a decision:
"Tomorrow morning we will go to the officer's house to enter his son into the covenant of Abraham."
The following day, Reb Eizik and his ward arose at dawn and recited their prayers. Then they set out in the direction of the river. On the way, the Chasid explained that he was almost certain that this was, indeed, a trap. He therefore wished to immerse himself in a mikva before they continued. "If this is to be our last day on earth, at least we will die in a state of ritual purity," he declared.
The officer's house was located on one of the finest streets in the city, which only served to confirm their suspicions. The neighborhood was inhabited by the highest ranking members of the KGB and their families. But the two Jews stuck to their decision. Reb Eizik and Yaakov secreted themselves in a hiding place across from the officer's house. Seconds later they saw a woman dressed in the latest fashion exit the building and proceed down the block. Together they strode across the street.
Reb Eizik knocked on the massive door. An older woman opened the door and motioned for them to enter. In the corner of the room was a beautiful crib, inside which a tiny baby was sleeping peacefully. They ran over and picked up the child, whereupon a small white envelope fell out.
Inside the envelope was a letter from the baby's father, apologizing for his not being able to be present at his son's bris and asking that they give the baby a Jewish name. The rest of the letter was an emotional statement of his thanks and appreciation for the great mitzva they were doing, without their even knowing who he was.
Reb Eizik quickly and deftly performed the bris, while Yaakov acted as sandek. They were about to leave when the woman who had opened the door suddenly appeared and motioned for them to stay put.
Yaakov was terrified. Seconds later, however, the woman brought out a brand new frying pan, and handed them a dozen eggs! A veritable fortune! She invited them to make themselves omelets. The young boy was so malnourished, so starved, that the eggs went down with no effort at all.
After they finished eating and were about to leave, the woman presented them with a huge sack of bread, another gift from the Russian officer. Such a quantity of bread was something the average citizen could only dream of, but how could they walk down the street carrying the bag. Surely they would attract the attention of the ever watchful police.
The woman suddenly understood why the two Jews hesitated to accept the priceless gift. She opened a drawer, ripped off a wad of coupons from a booklet and handed them over.
Many months later Yaakov was walking down the street when the same Russian officer stopped him. "I must thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. I have one more request to make of you. Whenever you make a bris, you should tell my story. Let everyone know that even in Soviet Russia, there are still Jews who have a warm spot in their hearts for Yiddishkeit."
This request led to a tradition in Yaakov's family. He is honored with being the sandek, in commemoration of the role he played in that bris so very long ago, and he relates the story of the Russian officer, from beginning to end, with great enthusiasm and fervor.

Reprinted from Beis Moshiach Magazine