The Uninvited Guests on Seder Night

A young couple had recently married in a small town in the district of Vilna, and the bride began to notice strange behavior in her husband. He rose at midnight to say Tikkun Chatzos, the midnight lament over the exile. Every morning at daybreak he immersed in the mikveh. And he kept reading a certain book that he hid under his pillow.

The young woman told her father, who took the sefer from beneath the pillow and opened it, and his world went dark. It was Toldos Yaakov Yosef, whose author, Rav Yaakov Yosef of Polnoye, was known as a leader of the “Sect.” His own son-in-law had been caught by the dreaded chassidim.

He raged at his son-in-law and poured oaths and warnings on him. When that had no effect, he tried gentle persuasion, and when that failed too, he demanded that the young man divorce his daughter. The young chosson refused. He was bound to Chassidus with all his soul, and he did not want to divorce his wife.

The father-in-law gave up and turned to his fellow townspeople for help, and the little town fell into turmoil. Some thought that every pressure should be used to force the young man to give a get. Others pointed out that a get given under duress is invalid, and that the poor bride would be caught in a maze of responsa over whether it was kosher. The only way, in their view, was to offer the husband a large sum so that he would agree to divorce of his own free will. The whole town boiled with argument, until the matter reached the poritz, the nobleman who ruled the region, an old colonel.

When the poritz heard that it had all begun with a book, he asked who its author was. He was told that it was a man who had led Jews away from the true path of Torah, Yaakov Yosef the Kohen of Polnoye. The poritz asked to see the book. He looked at the title page himself and saw the name of the sefer and of its author printed there in Russian. He summoned the young man, his wife and her father, with all their friends and relatives, and said, “The time has come to tell you something that happened to me in my youth.”

“Many years ago, when I was a colonel, my unit was camped one winter near Polonoye. We were ordered to move camp, and at daybreak the men lined up for their orders. Three soldiers were missing. I sent others to nearby Polonoye to find them, and they came back with a strange report. They had found all three in one house, lit by candles. At the head of the table sat an old man of impressive appearance, and the three soldiers stood before him, speechless and frozen, unable to move hand or foot. I did not believe it and sent another group, who came back with the same story.

“I went myself, with a few soldiers. When I entered and saw the old man, who looked like an angel, sitting in deep meditation, I felt fear and awe. The missing soldiers stood as if nailed to the floor, deaf and dumb. At last I found the courage to disturb his holy thoughts. ‘I see that you are a holy man,’ I said. ‘My soldiers must leave today with the whole battalion. Could you please do something so that they can move?’ The old man answered, ‘They must have stolen something. Remove the stolen objects from their pockets and they will be able to leave.’

“We searched their pockets and found them full of silver vessels. When the objects were removed, two of the men walked out normally, but the third stayed frozen. His friends said, ‘He must have something in his boot.’ And so it was. We found a small silver cup hidden there. When we took it, he too could move, and he left.”

What had happened? It was the first night of Pesach. After the seder the family had gone to sleep, leaving the head of the house, Rav Yaakov Yosef himself, sitting at the table all night in holy meditation. The door had been left open, because this is leil shimurim, a night guarded against every harm. The three soldiers passed by and saw through the windows that everyone was asleep and the door ajar. They walked in and began stuffing their pockets with leftovers and matzah from the table, and then with the silver utensils set out in honor of the seder. As soon as they had done so, they found that they could not move, until the colonel released them.

The poritz went on: “When I saw this wonder, I asked the holy Rav to bless me twice, first with children, since I was childless then, and second with a long life. He agreed and blessed me. Then I asked when my end would come. ‘The end of a man’s life is a secret that cannot be revealed,’ he said. ‘But know that just before your life ends, a situation will come to you in which you make my name known among Jews who do not know me.’ His blessings came true. Hashem gave me children, and as you see, I have lived to old age.

“Now tell me, is there anyone here who would still speak against such a holy man? Let no one see it as a sin that this young man studies the book of such a man of G-d. I order you to make peace among yourselves at once, and let no one lay a hand on this young man.”

Everyone present was moved by the old poritz’s story, and they promised to obey and to stop quarreling. “Now it is clear that my end is near,” the poritz added, “because the holy man’s last words have been fulfilled. But I am glad that I could bring peace among you in the name of the holy Rav, who is now in Gan Eden.” A few months later the old poritz passed away.