And thus Reb Moshe Pinchas boarded the coach, dressed in his new finery that had that very day left the hands of the tailor, with the two dignitaries, emissaries of their town, sitting one to his right and the other to his left. After he had completed the traveler’s prayer he lit upon two peculiar questions that all the rabbis had wrestled with: why does Maimonides never mention the traveler’s prayer and why would the Maharam of Rothenburg recite the prayer in his house upon departing on a journey? In the heat of the events which transpired later on his observations on that issue were forgotten, and it is a shame that such a fine pearl of wisdom was lost to us.
22.
And so the carriage left town and arrived at a crossroads, where Reb Moshe Pinchas looked down the road leading to the town that had hired him as Rabbi. He recalled the day on which he had gone there on foot and he remembered everything that had befallen him in that town. He mused to himself, “Here I am, traveling by carriage to the very place where the residents rose up to swallow me whole because I sought to undermine their shepherd.” He suppressed the anger in his heart with words of Torah and began to expound on the verse, “Do not come to anger on the road,” the text of which the Gemara interpreted to mean, “When on the road, do not engage in matters of law.” And, therefore, he began discussing other matters. The two emissaries were reminded of Reb Shlomo, their rabbi, who had left their town and encouraged them to take on Reb Moshe Pinchas as their next rabbi. And since they remembered their rabbi, they also remembered his righteousness. One of them said to Reb Moshe Pinchas, “I’m wondering, Rabbi, why you haven’t asked us how it came to be that we selected you as our new rabbi.” Reb Moshe Pinchas said, “I was also wondering, but was preoccupied with matters of Torah law and forgot to ask you.” The dignitary said, “In that case, I will tell you. When our great rabbi the sage Rabbi Shlomo, may he live long, was elevated to the seat of his father the sage, of blessed memory, the town elders asked him, ‘Our rabbi, whom shall we put in your place and who is worthy to sit in your chair?’ He said to them, ‘If you want to bestow joy on our hallowed Torah, select Rabbi Moshe Pinchas as your rabbi, for he is a genuine scholar among the true scions of the Torah.’ And inasmuch as our great rabbi was much beloved by us, we hastened to do his bidding.” Reb Moshe Pinchas’s expression began to undergo a transformation. After a short while, he said to the coachman, “Stop!” They assumed that he had to attend to a call of nature and stopped the carriage. He stepped down and took his bags. They asked him, “What’s this?” He said to them, “Any kindness that comes to me from that man — I don’t want it!” They said to him, “Rabbi, please relent and don’t embarrass a leading Jewish town.” He waved them away and said to them, “Go safely and in peace.”
What more can we add and what more is there to tell? There is nothing more to add and nothing further to tell, except that once he had parted from them he did an about-face and began walking towards his hometown. The dignitaries chased him after him and called out, “Rabbi, Rabbi!” Since they saw that he was not listening to them they said, “Please come back into the carriage and we’ll bring you home.” He shooed them away with his hand and did not return. They stood there unable to decide whether to pursue him or to go on their way. And while they were standing there, he had covered so much distance that they could no longer see him. They lost their resolve and re-boarded the carriage. They returned to their town, and he to his.
Reb Moshe Pinchas returned to his town and entered the study house. His wife and all her father’s household got word and rushed over, and with them his sons and daughters. They asked him, “Why did you come back?” He responded to them in the same words he had used with the two dignitaries. Shaindel wept and cried out, “Oy, what have you done to us?” He sat there in silence. And when his father-in-law reminded him of the expense he had gone to for the clothing, etc., he stood up, removed his top coat, and said to him, “Take it and leave me be.”
And what took place after that? There was no difference between before and after, none at all. Reb Moshe Pinchas would sit and study, his sons and daughters grew up, and his father-in-law fell ill and passed on. When he died, Reb Moshe Pinchas was deprived of his means of support and forced once again to take on students for a fee. And since he was burdened with sons and daughters he was not afforded the ability to be selective and say, “This pupil suits me and this one does not.” And from to time, he even had to take on an unworthy student.
23.
And now we shall lament the fickleness of time. Three or four generations back nothing had been more beloved than Torah, but two to three generations ago Torah began a gradual decline. (God forbid that Torah should decline, rather despisers of Israel should decline!) The study houses remained full, but the students studied for their own gain, in order to be called “Rabbi” and be seated in places of honor. Albeit, the decline was not like that in our own generation, but the beginning of a decline is still a decline. Not many days had passed before Reb Moshe Pinchas had grown to detest his students and his students to detest him, for they sought wit without substance and he had studied for the sake of true Torah. They say that he did not find even one worthy student, and if he did find a worthy student he was one of the poor ones who were unable to pay tuition. The elders of that generation, who would act according to their custom and vie with one another in matters of law, might have mistakenly assumed that all was as it should be. And yet in truth the world was not the same and norms were not normal. And as the number of dedicated hearts dwindled, the number of books proliferated, and anyone who could rub his fingers together would write “innovative works” and bring them to the print house. However, in contrast to those basketfuls of hollow gourds there were found some truly sharp analyses, such as the book of the true scholar Rabbi Shlomo HaLevi Horowitz, which clarified a number of laws in matters that had resurfaced in recent generations and had not been addressed by the books of the earlier scholars. About Reb Moshe Pinchas, we have nothing to relay. Reb Moshe Pinchas was involved with nothing but Torah. And when they would mention him in praise, they would add, “He’s like a mountain palm — perseveres in difficult conditions, but his fruit is so meager.” He had already despaired of the rabbinate and, needless to say, no town in need of a rabbi ever approached him. The story of what he had done to a leading Jewish town had spread throughout the land. And towns that needed an instructor found themselves a scholar more agreeable than he.
24.
When Reb Shlomo had advised the people of his town to appoint Reb Moshe Pinchas to succeed him, tears had streamed from their eyes. After all the ill will that this man had aimed at him, their rabbi was still striving to help him even though several members of the rabbi’s own family were seeking to take over his position. Could there be in this generation a person so righteous that he was able to overcome human nature, relinquish his honor and bestow kindness upon his affronter? As a result, the townspeople had not hesitated and had sent a letter of appointment to Reb Moshe Pinchas, as we have recounted. Now we shall relate a little something concerning what happened to Reb Shlomo after Reb Moshe Pinchas had sent the town away empty-handed.