The Story of a Rabbi and His Only Son: What It Teaches About Obstacles

This is how the story opens: a rabbi who had no children had an only son. He raised him and married him off, and the son sat in the upper room, "and he would study and pray constantly". And yet "he felt no taste in his study and in his prayer" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:2). Two young men advised him to travel to a certain tzaddik, and the story adds a brief detail about the son: he "had performed a mitzvah through which he came to the aspect of the Lesser Light" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:2).

A close reading shows that the story describes neither a sin nor an outward hardship. The son has nothing definite to repair, only a sense that something is missing, and he cannot name it. The second time, the story adds that the son "longed very much to fill his lack" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:3). The whole movement begins with longing, not with a clear answer.

The full story can be read in Sippurei Maasiyot, and on the place of the stories in his teaching see Why Rabbi Nachman told stories.

The father does not object to study or prayer. His argument is one of standing: "Are you not more learned than he, and of finer lineage than he?", and therefore "It is not fitting for you to travel to him" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:2). This repeated several times, until the son pressed him and the father was forced to travel with him, since he did not want to let an only son travel alone. Even then he said to him: "I will show you that there is nothing to him" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:3), and he set a test:

The first time a horse fell on a small bridge, the carriage overturned, "and they nearly drowned". The second time both axles of the carriage broke, and the father asked whether this is "the natural way, that both axles should break" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:3). And both times they turned back home.

The third time the son himself set the test aside. He told his father that they should no longer rely on such a test, "for it is the natural way that a horse sometimes falls", unless there is "something very noticeable" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:3).

At an inn they met a merchant. They did not tell him where they were going, "for the rabbi was ashamed to say that he was traveling to that tzaddik". When the conversation reached this tzaddik, the merchant answered in astonishment that he was a frivolous man, that he had just come from there and had seen him committing a sin. The father said to his son: "Did you see, my son, what this merchant tells in his innocence?", and they returned home (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:4).

There seem to be levels here. The horse and the axles are obstacles of nature, and the son has already learned not to be impressed by them. The third obstacle comes in the form of a person and in the form of speech: testimony about the tzaddik himself from someone who seems to know. In Sichot HaRan Rabbi Nachman said that "the obstacles of people are greater than the obstacles of the evil inclination" (Sichot HaRan 80). This connection is our explanation, not the wording of the story.

The son passed away. He came in a dream to his father, standing "in great anger", and sent him to the tzaddik: "And he will tell you why I am angry." After three dreams the rabbi set out, and on the way he met the same merchant. The merchant reminded him of the horse, the axles and his words at the inn, and said: "And now that I have done away with him, with your son, you may travel." Then he revealed what had been at stake (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:5):

In the midst of his words the merchant vanished. The rabbi reached the tzaddik and cried out: "Alas for those who are lost and are no longer found!" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:5). And at the end of the story the book states explicitly who the merchant was:

The note continues that when he met the rabbi the second time, he himself provoked him "for having listened to his advice, for such is his way" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:6). The book adds no further details, and neither will we. One thing emerges from the note itself: the one who misled them on the road is also the one who comes afterward to provoke whoever listened to him.

In Likutei Moharan I, Torah 66, Rabbi Nachman explains that nothing can be done without desire, and so for every holy thing, "such as to travel to the tzaddik", a person is first given desire. And it is precisely the obstacle that increases the desire, like a child who is shown something precious and has it snatched away, and then chases after it all the more (Likutei Moharan I, 66:4). And further there:

In the same place he writes explicitly about one who "wants to travel to the true tzaddik", that he has "very many great obstacles", and he states: "the desire breaks the obstacle" (Likutei Moharan I, 66:4). On the power of longing see also Will and longing.

A close reading of the story shows that the father read the signs exactly backward. He determined that "if not, it is not from Heaven", whereas according to this teaching the size of the obstacle testifies to the size of the thing. And the story itself reveals what lay in the journey: the Lesser Light and the Greater Light, which, had they met, "the Messiah would have come". This is our reading, connecting the two sources; the story does not mention the teaching.

In Torah 115 of the first part Rabbi Nachman writes that when a person is set aflame and wants to go in the ways of God, the attribute of judgment accuses him and prepares an obstacle for him, but God hides within it. "And one who is not a person of understanding, when he sees the obstacle, immediately turns back" (Likutei Moharan I, 115:1). And further on, in an addition that opens with the words "We further heard on this from his holy mouth", it is explained that God loves justice but loves Israel more, and therefore:

Three times the father and son turned back from the road: after the horse, after the axles and after the merchant's words. One can read the story as a picture of what this teaching describes, but not as a verdict on its characters. The story itself does not say what the son should have done, and this is our interpretation alone.

In Likutei Moharan II, Torah 46, Rabbi Nachman adds that it seems to each person that his obstacles are greater than his fellow's, but "each person has obstacles only according to his strength" (Likutei Moharan II, 46:2). And then:

And there he explains: even one who has broken the obstacles and reached the tzaddik, when he has questions about him and "there is crookedness in his heart", this is the greatest obstacle of all (Likutei Moharan II, 46:2). In the same teaching he also lists obstacles from one's own household, when "his father and mother" hold him back, and states that "they are all null and void for one whose heart is strong and courageous toward God" (Likutei Moharan II, 46:4).

It seems that this is exactly what the merchant in the story did. He did not stop the carriage; he gave the father a question about the tzaddik, and the father, who had already been sure there was nothing to him, accepted it at once. On the place of the tzaddik on the path see The tzaddik in Rabbi Nachman's teaching.

The story and the teachings do not promise that every road will open. What they offer is a way to read an obstacle. When something stops us on the way to something true, we can ask: am I looking for a sign so that I can turn back, like the father? In Torah 66 Rabbi Nachman warns that "a person should not exempt himself and find an excuse for himself through the obstacle" (Likutei Moharan I, 66:5).

And on the other hand, one who truly tried and did not succeed loses nothing. Speaking of the obstacles he had on his journey to the Land of Israel, he said: "no movement and no thought is lost at all" (Sichot HaRan 11). And in the following talk: "a person must always do his part", even when it seems to him that they do not let him at all (Sichot HaRan 12). On that journey see Rabbi Nachman's journey to the Land of Israel, and on strengthening oneself when the road is hard see Strength and encouragement in Rabbi Nachman's teaching.

And perhaps this is what the story leaves at its end: not a tidy answer, but the cry of a father who understood too late, and a prayer that the book adds to it: "May God, blessed be He, bring back our dispersed soon, amen" (Sippurei Maasiyot, Story 8:5).