Rav Levi Yitzchak’s Secret

A few years ago, after Simchas Torah, as we began a new cycle of Parshas HaShavua, I chose to devote my weekly Parsha learning that year to journeying through the Kedushas Levi. Like most of us, I had heard countless stories about Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev as the ultimate defender and lover of the Jewish people. Naturally, I opened the sefer expecting to find weekly lessons in ahavas Yisrael and the art of seeing the good in others. To my great surprise, I found a lot less than I expected.

Over the course of that year, I began indexing the topics discussed in the sefer on the inside cover of my edition. The lists that grew the fastest were bitul, deveikus, nitzotzos, ta’anug in Avodas Hashem, and avodah l’tzorech gavoha (and the significance of the Tzadik). This isn’t the place to unpack each of these ideas, but the common thread among them is clear: this is a sefer written by a G-d-intoxicated man — a Tzadik whose life revolved around finding Hashem in this world and revealing His presence in everything.

But this left me with a question: why is there such a gap between the Torah she’bichsav of the Kedushas Levi — a Torah filled with G-d — and the Torah she’ba’al peh of the Kedushas Levi — the oral tradition of stories that speak predominantly of his love for Klal Yisrael?

Here’s my theory. The heiligeh Rav Levi Yitzchak, zechuso yagen aleinu, was searching for G-dliness everywhere. He believed in the teaching of the Zohar that there is no place devoid of Hashem. And not only did he believe in Hashem — he was in love with Hashem. He thirsted for Hashem and lived with endless yearning for connection to Him. As he writes, “The chiyus of all creation is only in its connection to the Ein Sof” (Yisro, d”h V’Tachas). So he looked for Him everywhere — in Torah, in mitzvos, in davening, in Shabbos and Yom Tov, and in the physical world of eating, traveling, and living. And of course, he also looked for Him in Yidden.

In some Jews, it was easy to find Hashem. When he saw a Jew giving time or money to help another, he saw a revelation of Divine chessed. When he saw a Jew avert his eyes from something inappropriate, he saw a revelation of Divine gevurah. When he heard a Jew say over a beautiful shtikel Torah, he saw a revelation of Divine wisdom. But for the G-d-thirsty Rav Levi Yitzchak, this was not enough. He wanted to see Hashem everywhere.

So, when he saw the Jew eating on Yom Kippur, he approached him and said, “Reb Yid, it’s Yom Kippur.”

“I know,” said the Jew.

“You can’t eat on Yom Kippur.”

“I know,” said the Jew again.

And Rav Levi Yitzchak turned inward and asked himself, “How can I find Hashem here? Ah — this must be a revelation of the divine quality of emes.”

“Master of the World,” He then said, “Look  how this beautiful Jew is revealing Divine honesty into the world.”

In other words, the Torah she’bichsav of the sefer Kedushas Levi is the secret ingredient behind the Torah she’ba’al peh of the Rav Levi Yitzchak’s life. He refused to accept that there was any situation in which he could not find a revelation of Hashem, and so he found Him in every Jew. Every Jew. Every behavior. Every interaction.

Personally, I struggle greatly to emulate the ways of Rav Levi Yitzchak. I’m far more drawn to notice what’s negative in others. Most of the time, when I hear about “seeing the good,” it doesn’t go far for me — it just creates an inner tug-of-war between the part of me that sees the flaws and the part that says I shouldn’t. I win the battle for a few minutes, but get tired out so quickly that I stand no chance in the long run. But this approach feels different. It’s not about battling the negative voice at all — it’s about changing the path entirely. Instead of focusing on whether or not I see the good in someone, I can focus on searching for the revelation of Hashem that must exist there.

That shift changes everything. Because no matter how disinterested I might feel toward another person, I can still be interested in finding Hashem. I still want to encounter Him. So I can begin to look for Him in that person. Hashem is everywhere — and He must be in this person, this behavior, and this interaction too. And once I find a glimmer of Hashem within him, suddenly, I begin to see the person differently as well.

To be sure, the Kedushas Levi does contain some breathtaking passages that put into writing what all the stories convey about the life of our ultimate defender. In one of my favorite lines, Rav Levi Yitzchak writes:

“No one has permission to say anything bad about the Jewish people — only to be melamed zechus on the Jewish people… The mouth was created only for words of Torah
and to be melamed zechus on Yisrael.” (Bo, d”h Hayom)

But the engine behind this view — the reason that “no one has permission to say anything bad about the Jewish people” — is found in another of his teachings:

“The Creator, blessed is He, chose only Yisrael.”

He chose to reveal Himself through Klal Yisrael. Hashem is everywhere, and we are meant to seek Him everywhere — but perhaps Rav Levi Yitzchak is teaching that, in the end, Hashem placed His deepest revelation within His people. He “put all His chips,” so to speak, on the Jewish people.

So when Rav Levi Yitzchak looked at a Jew, all he could think was: Where, in this Jew, can I find a revelation of Hashem?

In Parshas Yisro (d”h Pen Yehersu), Rav Levi Yitzchak writes about the importance of immediately turning inspiration into action. So, together let’s take this from idea to avodah — from concept to transformation. The takeaway we can carry from the yahrzeit of this remarkable Tzadik is this: The next time I see something that bothers me in another Jew, I’ll try not to enter into a tug-of-war with that voice inside. Instead, I’ll drop the rope entirely, shift gears, and ask myself: Where in this person’s actions can I find a revelation of Hashem? How might this interaction bring me face-to-face with the One I yearn to see? And my tefillah is that, in doing so, my heart will naturally soften — and I’ll find myself relating to that person with far more warmth and love.