I’ll tell you a maaseh. One of the great Chassidishe Rebbes was Rav Mordechai of Lechovitch. The story goes about a certain chassid of Rav Mordechai who was very fiery and strongly attached to his Rebbe. But this chassid’s father-in-law was not a follower of Rav Mordechai. In fact, he wasn’t a follower of any Chassidishe Rebbe. He was a big misnaged and was not shy about it. His son-in-law, on the other hand, was not shy about how much of a chassid he was either, and so there was often tension between them.
The day came when there was a great simcha, the chassid and his wife had a baby boy. Rav Mordechai of Lechovitch was not only a great tzaddik but also a mohel, and he took the mitzvah of bris milah very seriously. It was said about him that whenever someone asked him to be the mohel, he always said yes, no matter how hard it was to do or how far away it was.
[There’s a story told about a time that on a short Erev Shabbos in the winter, two Yidden from different shtetlach asked him to be the mohel at their brissim. His chassidim told him it was impossible to reach both places and return in time for Shabbos. Rav Mordechai replied that we are taught that when Avraham Avinu ran to do the mitzvah of bris milah, he was setting an example for us to learn about the importance of zerizus. When a person does a mitzvah with zerizus, Hashem arranges that the pathway gets shortened. And that’s exactly what happened — the Rebbe managed to perform both brissim and return home in time for Shabbos. Such was his deep connection to the mitzvah of bris milah.]
So when the chassid’s son was born, he was thrilled to have his Rebbe serve as the mohel, and as expected, the Rebbe was more than happy to do so.
But the father-in-law saw this as an opportunity to make a point against both his son-in-law and his son-in-law’s Rebbe in one shot. The bris was scheduled for the morning; let’s say Shacharis was going to be at 7 am and the bris at 8 am. Somehow, before anyone else even arrived for Shacharis, the father-in-law gathered a minyan together, took the baby, and performed the bris milah early!
When the chassid and Rav Mordechai arrived, they saw the father-in-law and his friends walking out of the shul, all smiles. “Mazel tov,” they said. “The bris has been done!”
The chassid was crushed. Not only had he missed his own son’s bris, but his beloved Rebbe, who so cherished the mitzvah of bris milah, had been denied the chance to perform it.
They went home, and sat down for the seudah of the bris milah that they hadn’t even taken part in. But something surprised the chassid. He saw that his Rebbe, Rav Mordechai, was unusually joyful. He was usually very joyful after he performed a bris — but now he seemed even happier than usual, and this time he had been denied the opportunity to do the bris! The chassid, who was still broken, couldn’t understand it. He finally asked his Rebbe, “Rebbe, how can you be so b’simcha? I’m devastated over what happened, and you seem happier than ever!”
Rav Mordechai smiled and explained, “The Gemara teaches us that whenever a person does a mitzvah, even with the best intentions, there’s always a small trace of self-interest, or some other motivation. No mitzvah is ever one hundred percent pure. But the Gemara also says that if someone wants to do a mitzvah and is prevented from doing it for reasons beyond their control, Hashem considers it as if they did it.
The Rebbe continued, “When Hashem considers it as if you did the mitzvah, what kind of mitzvah does He consider it that you’ve done? 50%? 80%? 99.9%? No, of course not! If Hashem considers it as if you did the mitzvah, that means it is as if you did it one hundred percent!
Therefore, this is the only bris milah in my entire life that I can say I did perfectly! The entire thing, from beginning to end, with every intention throughout, was one hundred percent perfect, because it was a milah that I wanted to do, and tried to do, but was taken away from me by no fault of my own!
But Hashem considers it as if I did this mitzvah one hundred percent, and so if that’s not a reason to be b’simcha, what is?”
Take It To Go!
At the end of the day, Rachmana liba ba’i. Hashem wants our hearts. Of course, when we can do a mitzvah, we must do it. But when a person truly wants to do what’s right and is prevented from it, Hashem counts it not by human standards — the imperfect way we would have likely done it — but by His own standards, of a complete and perfect mitzvah. And such mitzvos are the most beautiful mitzvos of all.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 60.