R. Nachman on “A Story About the Besht”

R. Nachman's calling as a repairer of souls climaxes with his decision, when he is ill with tuberculosis, to die and be buried in Uman. Central to this decision is his desire to elevate, through his death, the souls of tens of thousands of Jews who had been murdered in Uman by Ivan Gonta and his Cossacks in 1768.Footnote ¹¹

Soon after arriving in Uman, R. Nachman expounded to his followers on the specialness of the place, and “he praised the cemetery of Uman,”Footnote ¹² because “tens of thousands of holy Jewish souls” were buried there, “and there was a very great sanctification of God's Name there.” It is for this reason that R. Nachman expresses his desire to be buried there, and he shares his intention with his followers:

The story told by R. Nachman is recounted by R. Nathan in the context of R. Nachman's journey from Breslov to Uman, a few months earlier:

In the section that follows, in which R. Nathan writes about R. Nachman's death in Uman, he once again mentions that “the essence of his death was for the sake of the holy ones who had been killed there,” and he notes that R. Nachman had mentioned “the story about the Besht” the day before his death.Footnote ¹⁵

Thus, the story that R. Nachman tells about the Besht is central to the establishment of R. Nachman's self-identity and his calling as a repairer of souls of the dead.Footnote ¹⁶ The story describes the Besht's evading death where his death would have served to repair souls, thereby serving as a contrasting background to R. Nachman, who proceeds consciously and willingly to his death in Uman in order to redeem the souls of those who died there for qidduš haŠem (i.e., in sanctification of God's name).Footnote ¹⁷

The “Story About the Besht” as Retold in In Praise of the Besht

Unlike some stories about the Besht, which are known to us only from R. Nachman's retelling, the incident under discussion has a fascinating parallel that has so far escaped the notice of scholars. Let us first review the story as recounted in In Praise of the Besht:

The skeleton of the plot—the need for repair, the danger, the co-opting of Sabbath “guests” in the repair, and a happy ending—is identical to R. Nachman's account. However, this basic similarity serves to highlight the significant differences between the two narratives. The first thing we notice about the second version is its level of detail, in comparison with R. Nachman's own admission that he does not have a good recollection of the story. Although a great many of the details are omitted from R. Nachman's account, the pared-down plot that he conveys may still be compared with the story as recorded in In Praise. We note some significant discrepancies:Footnote ¹⁹

1. a. The danger: In R. Nachman's version, the Besht is fearful that he will die in the course of repairing the souls. Hence his melancholy: he wishes to repair the souls, but does not want to give up his life. In the In Praise version, he fears the danger of failing to repair them: “When I do not redeem them they are dangerous and kill men.” There is no mention of any sorrow; there is only a refraining from eating, so long as the Besht has not yet discovered how to repair the souls (with the help of the two teachers).

2. b. The partners: In R. Nachman's version, the Besht commands that all the guests present in the city be brought to him, but his messengers find only “two guests on foot.” In In Praise the identity of the two guests is known: they are teachers from villages close to the city, who are in some way connected to the sparks requiring repair.

3. c. The process: R. Nachman, as the all-knowing narrator, states that it was God who arranges guests for the Besht because he sees that he is mired in sadness. When the guests arrive, the Besht is heard “speaking with them,” but it is not clear exactly what transpired between them. In In Praise it is revealed to the Besht in advance that these two teachers have some part in these sparks, and therefore they are personally required for the repair; they are not random “victims” who will bear the brunt of the process and its results. They come to the town because “from heaven the men were caused to believe themselves to be sick,” and they remain unaware of their role right up to the end (i.e., the lack of awareness is attributed to the partners in the repair, not to the Besht). In view of their role, the Besht instructs that the teachers be directed to immerse themselves in a mikveh before the Sabbath, and he provides guidance as to how they should be treated throughout the Sabbath until the repair is complete.

4. d. Results for the partners: In R. Nachman's version, the guests presumably start off healthy, and after the repair it becomes clear that they have suffered some harm. In the In Praise version, the teachers start off believing that they are ill. After taking part in the repair it becomes clear that they are not in need of any healing. Thus, the whole process has actually benefitted them.

5. e. Results for the Besht: R. Nachman describes the Besht as immersed in melancholy. The reader assumes that after the repair, once the danger has passed, his sadness dissipates. In the In Praise version, there is no mention of sadness prior to the repair; afterwards it is noted that “the Besht was filled with joy.”

What is the relationship between the two accounts? Is one an earlier account than the other—and if so, which? We posit that the two versions are too similar for us to view them as parallel traditions that were transmitted independently. It seems reasonable that the version in In Praise is the earlier one, that it was known to R. Nachman, and that the version recorded in his name is his reworking of that story. This hypothesis rests upon the following evidence: firstly, the story in In Praise records an exact line of transmission. Secondly, there is attention to detail, with open admission where information is lacking (“I am not sure whether it happened in the holy community of Nemirov or in the holy community of Shargorod”). In contrast, R. Nachman himself testifies that he does not remember the story in all its detail, and even the significant detail about the harm caused to the guests who helped with the repair is vague (“It seems . . .”). In other words, while the story is very important to R. Nachman, who tells it on his way to Uman, and then reminds his disciple of it the day before he dies there, he acknowledges that what he remembers is an incomplete account. Thirdly, an examination of other stories in In Praise concerning the repairing of souls and the elevation of holy sparks shows that the Besht indeed viewed himself, or is viewed by the narrators, as obliged to engage in this work, but there is no hint of this activity involving any threat to his own life.Footnote ²⁰ Moreover, as we shall see below, he refuses to repair souls through his own death—but not because he fears death.

Other Stories Recorded in In Praise Concerning the Repairing of Souls

A number of accounts in In Praise describe the Besht as having the ability to identify the souls of sinners that have been reincarnated as animals: a frog,Footnote ²¹ a horse,Footnote ²² etc., or as dybbuks (a soul in need of repair) inhabiting human hosts.Footnote ²³ The Besht knows the sin and brings about its repair, thereby liberating the soul from its incarnation and elevating it. In other instances, the Besht effects the rectification of souls that are not clothed in a body. The account of Shabbetai Zvi coming to the Besht to seek repair is well-known.Footnote ²⁴

In other stories about the Besht, the focus is not on some or other particular soul needing repair, but rather on a particular place or time. There is, for example, a time-based repair: the afternoon prayer on the eve of the Sabbath is the proper time for repairing souls, as we find, for example, in the following account:

From here we see that the Besht elevates a great many souls during the afternoon prayer on the eve of the Sabbath.Footnote ²⁶ This story states precisely at which point in the Amidah prayer the Besht directs his thoughts in such a way as to bring the souls to him. From the experience of his brother-in-law, R. Gershon, when he tries to imitate the Besht, we see that the encounter with the souls of the dead can be a frightening and dangerous experience; R. Gershon cannot bear it. The contrast serves to highlight the power of the Besht and his ability to withstand the experience without being adversely impacted by it.

Another example is a place-based repair: a story in In Praise describes the Besht refraining from journeying to Anipoli. “He said: ‘There is nothing for me to do there since Rabbi Samson of that holy community has already corrected whatever was necessary.’”Footnote ²⁷ This story appears right after the previous one, describing the Besht's arrival in the city of R. Yaakov Yosef of Polnnoye and the repair that he had to effect there.

Thus we see that the practice of repairing souls of the dead was familiar to the Besht, and he viewed this as part of his spiritual and mystical obligation as leader. However, it entailed no harm to him, and certainly no threat to his life, whether it was a single soul that was involved or “thousands and tens of thousands.” On the contrary, the danger lies in refraining from repairing the souls. Moreover, in the story of the Besht's death as recorded in In Praise,Footnote ²⁸ we find a most puzzling episode. The account describes the Besht's preparations for his death: he gathers his followers, shows them how to carry out his burial, instructs that they gather a minyan (quorum) for prayer, conveys Torah teachings before all the people of the city who have come to pay their respects on the festival, and so on. What happens next comes as a surprise:

The soul that approaches the Besht at this time is rejected because it did not come to him during his lifetime. In other words, not only does the Besht not fear that he will die as a result of repairing of the souls of the dead (as R. Nachman's version of the story would have us believe), but even just before his death, when his imminent passing is a certain fact and not just a frightening possibility, the Besht makes no mention of any connection between his death and a repair of this soul or any other.

The Besht as a Model for Emulation and as a Background Contrast

Proceeding from the assumption that R. Nachman was familiar with most, if not all, of the stories recorded in In Praise Footnote ³⁰ that ascribe the repairing of souls of the dead to the Besht in all the different places, times, and circumstances set forth above,Footnote ³¹ we must ask: why did R. Nachman claim that the Besht refrained from the repairing of souls at his death? The stories about the Besht were clearly central to R. Nachman's perception of his role and destiny as a repairer of souls of the dead. What, then, is the relationship between the Besht as a model for emulation and the Besht as contrasting background for R. Nachman's own unique path?Footnote ³² We wish to propose that the way R. Nachman structures his martyrdom in relation to the story of the Besht is patterned on his journey to the land of Israel—a journey that was formative for R. Nachman.

According to hasidic legend, the Besht set off for the land of Israel, experienced a crisis, danger, sadness, and a spiritual descent, and decided to turn back.Footnote ³³ R. Nachman, in contrast, reduces himself to the “smallness of smallness,” overcomes the crisis, and reaches his destination.Footnote ³⁴ R. Nachman recounts his own journey against the background of the journey of the Besht, stating explicitly that that which the Besht was unable to do, he himself did. At the end of life, his perception of his repairing of souls follows the same pattern: the Besht, according to R. Nachman, journeyed to the place where the repair was to take place, found himself in danger and fell into melancholy, and sought out partners to share the responsibility with him in order not to have to give up his life for the repair. R. Nachman, in contrast, proceeded towards his death in Uman fully conscious and willing, and gave up his life for the repair of the souls of the dead. We see how the model of the journey to the land of Israel (which would appear to be based on fact: the Besht did not reach his destination, while R. Nachman did) is replicated by R. Nachman as a mode of comparison to the Besht, even in instances where it is not certain that we could point to any factual basis.

While R. Nachman follows in the footsteps of the Besht, he needs to pave a path for himself. This path is the product of several different factors. In the present context, the main factor is R. Nachman's imminent death. In contrast to the Besht, who—even just a few hours before his death—did not connect his death to the repairing of souls, R. Nachman views death as a lofty and powerful opportunity for repairing souls. In order to clarify the innovative and unique nature of his act, R. Nachman takes pains to differentiate himself from the Besht by telling the story about him. It is reasonable to assume that the story from In Praise remained in vague and partial form in R. Nachman's memory. In the consciousness of R. Nachman, who is marching confidently and in solitude towards his untimely death, perhaps the memory of the joint repair effected by the Besht and the guests suffices to create a new plot, in which partnership in repair helps to avoid death. From here it is only a short step to recalling a story in which the impetus to create a partnership is an unwillingness to die, interweaving the motif of sadness in view of the imminent danger that is borrowed from the story of the Besht's journey to the land of Israel.

Along with the “story about the Besht,” R. Nachman relied on a long and well-established tradition in Judaism concerning the repairing of souls. The Gemara (b. Ḥag. 15b) records R. Yohanan saying, with reference to Elisha b. Avuya, “When shall I die, that I may extinguish the smoke from his grave?” In other words, his assumption was that through his own death he could redeem ’Aḥer—the apostate—from the fire of Gehinnom (hell). Many mystical traditions view the unique moment of mystical death as a time when souls can be repaired. An example is the nefilat ’appayim, a section of the prayer service where the mystic is meant actually to flatten himself on the floor and/or imagine himself dying, to experience a mystical death, and thereby to descend to Gehinnom and elevate the souls of sinners.Footnote ³⁵ As to actual death, the Ari (i.e., Rabbi Isaac Luria, 1534–1572) continuing the words of the Gemara and, inspired by sources discussing such prostration, attributes to the ṣaddiq in death the possibility of redeeming the souls of sinners from Gehinnom.Footnote ³⁶ The imagined or mystical death is perceived in some sources as a form of qidduš haŠem, and is attributed to figures such as R. Akiva and other martyrs.Footnote ³⁷ In other words, in a most significant sense, R. Nachman continues known kabbalistic traditions in attributing to himself a sacrificial death,Footnote ³⁸ a death in qidduš haŠem, one that will redeem souls. At the same time, we propose that R. Nachman's main innovation lies in presenting the act as a direct continuation of his actions in life. In other words, what is involved here is not a descent to Gehinnom that is possible only when the ṣaddiq is no longer alive; rather, he repairs in his death the souls that are marooned somewhere in this world—just as he has done during his lifetime.Footnote ³⁹

Moreover, the great innovation from R. Nachman's point of view, of course, is his attachment of these meanings to his own imminent death from tuberculosis. In this sense, he represents a radical example of Daniel Boyarin's claim that martyrdom is, first and foremost, discourse rather than an event or a fact.Footnote ⁴⁰ Through discourse of martyrdom, R. Nachman succeeds in transforming an event that embodies passivity and a cutting off of life into an expression of active vitality that is a continuation of his life. This awarding of existential meaning sits well with R. Nachman's teaching that for the ṣaddiq there is no difference between life and death,Footnote ⁴¹ and it lays the basis for the view of the ṣaddiq as alive and present in Uman even after his death.

At the same time, and as much as R. Nachman viewed himself as a great innovator, it is possible that he also had a need to relate this innovative insight back to the Besht as someone who had been meant to repair souls through his death. However, “R. Nachman's Besht” shied away from this mission. Thus, the Besht functions both as a model for emulation and a source for R. Nachman's new direction but also as background to R. Nachman's uniqueness as an unparalleled repairer of souls.

The “Master of the Field”—R. Nachman on Repairing Souls

The death that is required, in R. Nachman's view, for the purposes of repairing souls, expresses not only the readiness for total self-sacrifice, but also the essence of the repair itself as mystical envelopment or unification, as I shall explain.

For most of his life, R. Nachman maintained two simultaneous vocations: on the one hand, the will to die for qidduš haŠem;Footnote ⁴² on the other hand, his interest in and obligation towards the souls of the dead.Footnote ⁴³ These two ideas apparently coalesce in the moment of the death of his infant son, upon whom R. Nachman had pinned messianic hopes. It was in the wake of this event that R. Nachman uttered his teaching, “And Boaz said to Ruth.”Footnote ⁴⁴ The first part of the teaching speaks of different modes of repair: some people repair souls during their lifetime through their actions, some repair souls through their deaths, while others are unable to repair souls even in death. The greatest and highest ṣaddiq can effect repair during his life, but with great suffering. When this teaching was uttered, R. Nachman was well aware to whom he was referring by these categories. His infant son was required to die in order to effect repair. He himself was the superior individual who could repair during his lifetime, but with suffering. It must be remembered that even though the death of the infant put an end to the hopes that R. Nachman had for him, he was still full of hope for himself; even tuberculosis was not yet a threat. A few years later, on his way to Uman, R. Nachman understood that he, too, would not be able to repair everything during his lifetime and that he had to make his death an event that would bring about repair.Footnote ⁴⁵

The teaching “And Boaz said to Ruth” is the only instance in R. Nachman's writings in which he expounds on the topic of repairing souls. This teaching has been treated in the research in two general contexts: some scholars have addressed it in connection with the time of its utterance—just after the death of R. Nachman's infant son—and its implications for his messianic hopes. In this context, attention has been focused only on the first two sections of the teaching.Footnote ⁴⁶ Mark addresses the teaching in the context of the mystical experience and the return from it, focusing only on the third and fourth sections.Footnote ⁴⁷ We shall propose a reading of the teaching in its entirety, attempting to grasp its essential unity. In so doing, we shall examine how R. Nachman understands the act of repairing souls, and we will explain how his own death becomes a necessary climax on his path to repairing the souls of the dead.

The ṣaddiq who repairs souls is referred to in this teaching as the “master of the field.”Footnote ⁴⁸ The souls are grasses or trees growing in the field—or outside of it, awaiting repair, i.e., waiting to find their place in the field. The master of the field, according to R. Nachman, is the great and powerful ṣaddiq who undergoes great suffering, “yet by virtue of his greatness and exalted level he is able to transcend it all, and performs the required work of the field. When he succeeds in rectifying the souls and bringing them in, then it is very good and fitting to pray, for then the prayer is perfected.”Footnote ⁴⁹ In other words, the repairing of souls, which is the repairing of the field, is bound up with the repairing of prayer.

The greater the degree to which the field functions properly and produces fruit, in the wake of the activity of the master of the field, the greater his power grows, and he can be even more precise in his repairing of the trees/souls. At this point in the teaching, R. Nachman moves from the world of agricultural imagery to the world of literal, ritual imagery: the repairing of speech and the repairing of prayer. The ability of the master of the field to repair is now described as follows: “But when his eyes are shining and looking out . . . he is able to look into each person and bring him to his ultimate purpose. He is able to examine each one's speech, to see whether it is lacking perfection since it is still far from the ultimate goal. He then brings him to the ultimate purpose, and as a result speech is wholly as it should be. For every utterance is an entire world.”Footnote ⁵⁰

In other words, the repairing of souls is transformed into the repairing of speech, and now R. Nachman specifies the essence of this repair. He describes prayer as a walk in the field, thereby going back to the previous image, but with a change of form. Every individual who stands in prayer is like one who walks in the field “picking lovely blossoms and flowers one at a time, until he makes a bouquet. After that he picks more, one by one, making another bouquet, and joins them together.”Footnote ⁵¹ Now R. Nachman explains his allegory: the ideal prayer is one in which each letter joins with the letter that follows it, to create a word (bouquet). Each word joins the word next to it to create a great bouquet that includes all the smaller bunches. Prayer that is whole and complete is not a matter of uttering words or blessings one after another, each replacing its predecessor in the consciousness of the worshiper, but rather an accumulation and intensification of the religious experience. In this manner, “When he reaches the final word of the prayer, he will still be holding at its first word. This way one can pray the entire prayer and nonetheless not separate himself from even its first letter.”Footnote ⁵² Later on in this picturesque description of prayer, R. Nachman offers an anthropomorphic depiction of each letter and each word: the letter turns to the worshiper and asks him not to part with it and not to forget it while he goes on gathering additional letters and words.

Now R. Nachman asserts that this unity of the prayer is “an ‘aspect’ of ultimate purpose”; it is the embodiment of the verse, “On that day the Lord will be One and His Name—One” (Zech 14:9). Following a detailed description of this purpose, which we will discuss below, R. Nachman once again comes back to the master of the field and states that his role is to examine each and every individual/soul and see whether he is close to his purpose; if not, he must repair him and help him to achieve it. In other words, the repairing of all the souls, which is mentioned at the beginning of the teaching, is identified with the repairing of the prayer of each and every individual. The repaired prayer, whole from beginning to end, is complete speech; it is also the repaired soul that is situated inside the field and that produces fruit.

Let us go back to the description of the “aspect of ultimate purpose.”Footnote ⁵³ R. Nachman describes the ultimate purpose as a situation in which a person recognizes that good and evil are from a single source.Footnote ⁵⁴ According to this unitary view, even the suffering that befalls him takes on meaning, as an erasing of sins or as a catalyst for repentance; hence, it loses its meaning as suffering. If we connect the discussion about suffering here to the mention of suffering in the first section of the teaching,Footnote ⁵⁵ it turns out that the master of the field himself needs repair. In other words, while he is repairing souls by bringing them to their ultimate purpose, he may undergo much suffering, and he needs to remind himself, first and foremost, what the purpose of his suffering is. In this context, R. Nachman describes the closing of the eyes as an instinctive response to suffering, which he explains is an unconscious expression of the desire to block out the difficult present reality and to look beyond it towards the more distant purpose. At the next stage, R. Nachman moves to the mystical experience:

Previously, the suffering has been nullified in thought through the intellect. Its meaning as inexplicable suffering is canceled. Now we are speaking of “real” nullification. In other words, the mystical experience in which a person is immersed in and adheres to the “One,” the ultimate purpose, and the suffering is removed from him in a most tangible way, in view of the pleasure of that experience of unity and cleaving. However, the nature of the mystical experience is such that a person cannot maintain it continuously. It is experienced in “running and returning.” And when he “returns” from his experience, the suffering returns with even greater intensity. Nevertheless, the return from his self-nullification is not a return to his previous state, for there remains an “impression” (rešimu) of that nullification,Footnote ⁵⁷ from which there emerges new Torah. In other words, one who returns from a mystical experience merits the impression that remains within him, and new insight. The impression of the experience dulls the suffering and awards it further justification, for it is that very suffering that led to the self-nullification, which left its impression—which in turn produced new Torah insights. In summing up this process, R. Nachman states that the new Torah insight represents evidence that the person acted on his suffering in the appropriate way—meaning, he used his suffering as a catalyst leading him to the ultimate purpose.

Contemplating especially himself and the suffering that he underwent with the death of his infant son and the hopes that he had embodied, R. Nachman here proposes a path that is available to all. The proper acceptance of the suffering means imbuing that suffering with meaning so as to lead R. Nachman to a mystical experience, the rešimu, and new insight into Torah. This very teaching, “And Boaz said to Ruth,” is itself proof that R. Nachman channeled his suffering as a catalyst for positive action.Footnote ⁵⁸

At the end of the teaching R. Nachman returns to the verses from Ruth with which he began. In R. Nachman's interpretation, Ruth symbolizes the praying soul; the reaping symbolizes the gaze fixed on the purpose, and so on. The importance of this allegorical interpretation for an understanding of the teaching as a whole lies in the fact that it interweaves all its parts, such that the description of the prayer of every soul/tree that the master of the field repairs is bound up with the description of the mystical experience, which appears, at first glance, to belong only to the mystic, the ṣaddiq.

A review of the teaching as a whole raises a number of important points relating to R. Nachman's view of repairing souls, which have not yet received attention in the literature. Firstly, the soul is identified with prayer.Footnote ⁵⁹ Secondly, repairing souls means bringing them to their ultimate purpose, which is the unification of all aspects of a person's life within their connection to their common Source. In this matter, R. Nachman follows in the footsteps of the Sepher Qaṭan, the commentary on Psalm 107 attributed to the Besht that was printed about a year before the teaching “And Boaz said to Ruth.” Sepher Qaṭan describes the ascent of the souls/sparks in the process of repair “from assiya to yetzira etc, until the Ein-Sof.”Footnote ⁶⁰ In other words, it is no coincidence that this teaching binds together the detailed discussion of the repairing of souls by the master of the field with the detailed discussion of the mystical experience, self-nullification, the “running and returning,” and the rešimu that the experiences leaves on the person. Thirdly, the system of repair in this teaching is built on the interconnectedness of souls-letters-prayers. The master of the field repairs the souls that are the trees and grass in the field, and likewise each individual soul is a “master of the field” in its own right, picking, as it were, words of prayer. The soul is prayer—or the sum total of prayers offered by a person—and, in the same way, the prayer itself is a collection of souls, since each and every letter is anthropomorphized in its own right as a separate entity that pleads with the worshiper not to abandon it. The worshiper must gather all the letters of the prayer into his “field,” and the master of the field must gather all the souls into the field. This system of mutual reflections between the ṣaddiq and his followers, between the soul and its prayers, between the prayer and the letters and words comprising it, opens the teaching about the “master of the field” to broader horizons than those discussed thus far. The repairing of souls is shown to be a practice that involves R. Nachman's central interest in prayer, in cleaving, and in the mystical experience. The fourth point concerns repair specifically at the time of death, and this will be discussed further on.

The repairing of souls, for R. Nachman, the Besht, and other hasidic figures, is to be found in the close—but not always entirely clear—connection to such issues as the elevation of holy sparks and the elevation of foreign thoughts. R. Nachman's connection to the souls of those who died in sanctification of God's name when they were murdered in Uman, and who await their elevation at his death, emphasizes the personal and concrete aspects of this religious aim, and appears to be distinct from other instances of elements requiring repair, which he describes in more abstract or less personal terms. However, as we have seen above, a close and precise reading of R. Nachman's quintessential teaching about the repair of souls shows that on the one hand, these souls are identical with prayer, while on the other hand, even the letters of the prayer are anthropomorphized as souls.Footnote ⁶¹ The roots of this connection are found as early as the Besht, and they appear in the works of many of his successors.Footnote ⁶²

The Besht as “Master of the Field”

In the teaching under discussion, it turns out that the elevation of souls overlaps with the elevation of prayer. Another story from In Praise may have exerted a significant influence on R. Nachman's formative image of the “master of the field.” This figure, as noted, is to be found early on in the Zohar,Footnote ⁶³ but in a different context that does not relate specifically to the repairing of souls or of prayer. In the following story we see how the field functions as the place for elevation of prayer-souls:

This story is built around the motif of “mishap”: the traveler is delayed for one reason after another: the horse is tired, then he himself is tired. Eventually he is forced to spend Yom Kippur in the field, which pains him greatly. After the fact, it turns out that the delay was not coincidental, and that his prayer from the depths of his heart—arising from his sorrow over the circumstances—has had a much greater effect than he could have hoped to achieve had he reached the Besht in time. His prayer was needed “to elevate the prayers of the people in the fields.”Footnote ⁶⁵

The source of the expression “the people in the fields” is in the Gemara. The farmers who work in the fields and therefore do not attend the synagogue are considered as having fulfilled their duty through the repetition by the prayer leader (šeliaḥ ṣibbur).Footnote ⁶⁶ In this story, the Besht views the situation as one in which the prayer leader himself comes to the field, as it were. Why? This expression is borrowed and applied to a “congregation” of a different sort. In light of the above traditions, the “people in the field” turn out to be the “thousands and tens of thousands” of souls that are awaiting repair and elevation. The “prayer of the people in the fields” is the prayer of these souls—which is identified with the souls themselves. In other words, the traveler on the way to the Besht was delayed in order to be able to elevate, through his prayer, the souls that were waiting at the place where he was. There are other stories about the Besht that suggest that the Besht himself used to pray in the fields: sometimes he would go out to a particular place in the middle of nature to pray;Footnote ⁶⁷ and sometimes he would pray in the field while on a journey, even when he was already near a place of habitation and could have reached a synagogue.Footnote ⁶⁸ It is quite possible that this prayer in the field is connected to the idea of repairing the souls waiting at a particular place,Footnote ⁶⁹ as discussed above. As opposed to the zoharic tradition, which identifies the “master of the field” with the ṣaddiq (the ninth sephira, yesod), while the field itself is identified with the sephira of malḵut, in the Besht's stories concerning “the field,” the emphasis is on the earthly ṣaddiq and his commitment to the earthly field, meaning human beings. The ṣaddiq is committed to the souls requiring repair that are floating around in the world. This emphasis could have been central to building the image of the “master of the field” in R. Nachman's teaching. However, this is precisely the point of difficulty in R. Nachman's self-perception towards the end of his life: if the main purpose of the master of the field is to take care of the field with all its plants and trees and the weeds sprouting in it and outside of it, in what way will the death of the master of the field help to nurture them?

The Repair Through the Death of the “Master of the Field”

Here R. Nachman forges a new path, and an examination of the essence of the repair described at length in the teaching “And Boaz said to Ruth” explains the reason for his doing so. As stated, R. Nachman discusses the attainment of the “ultimate purpose,” which is the understanding and experience of “The Lord is One and His Name—One.” This unity and all-encompassing Oneness is the essence of the mystical experience in which a person—with all the details, joys and suffering of his life—is nullified. Lower aspects of this “purpose” find expression in the intellectual understanding of this unity and the awarding of meaning to suffering as a means for good. The ritual-experiential aspect of this “purpose” is prayer in which the words and letters join onto one another, such that by the end of the prayer, the worshiper is still connected to the prayer's very first letter. The role of the master of the field is to bring every soul-prayer to this purpose. The climax of the purpose is, of course, the mystical experience, but as R. Nachman himself acknowledges, “One cannot remain constantly in a fixed state of self-nullification unless one leaves the human state; therefore, the self-nullification must necessarily take the form of running and returning.”Footnote ⁷⁰

However, there may be a form of nullification from which there is no return. In the year 1806 when R. Nachman uttered his teaching, it was clear to him that his son had died for the purposes of repair, while he himself would continue to repair while alive through mystical cleaving. But when he travelled to Uman in the year 1810, a few months prior to his own death, he understood that this repair would not be completed during his lifetime. He therefore chose to imbue his anticipated death with meaning through the intention that the souls of the holy Jews who had been murdered would thereby be elevated. R. Nachman's death as a means of repairing souls is just one more step towards the “purpose” to which the master of the field aspires in the mystical experience and in his efforts to bring all souls-prayers to their ultimate purpose. This step accords with the inner logic of the teaching as a whole. In other words, a cohesive look at this teaching awards mystical significance to R. Nachman's untimely death, as a sacrifice that is offered up in its entirety, encompassing within his death all his prayers and the totality of the prayers of the tens of thousands of souls that he redeems—meaning, bringing these souls themselves to their ultimate purpose. Thus, R. Nachman connects himself to the kabbalistic and hasidic traditions that, on the one hand, identify the mystical act with death (such as in the act of falling in prostration), while on the other hand, identify death for qidduš haŠem with mystical cleaving. However, in his characteristic way, R. Nachman goes a step further by emphasizing the process of cleaving and envelopment, or unification, that is experienced by the repaired souls and not just by the mystic engaged in their repair.

The awarding of meaning to R. Nachman's death as a personal mystical unification that will lead to the unification of the souls of the dead together with him in the infinite is related to two psychological challenges. The first concerns R. Nachman's ability to cope with his own death, while the second concerns his ability to cope with the shadow of the Besht. Concerning the first, as Weiss, Travis, and Mark have already pointed out, R. Nachman had carried with him a fear of death since early childhood, while, at the same time, having an aspiration to die in sanctification of God's name.Footnote ⁷¹ His impending death might have been a “banal” death resulting from tuberculosis. It may have been the fear of his impending death that led him to frame his death as qidduš haŠem. Since R. Nachman is not truly able to choose a death for qidduš haŠem, like the martyrs of Gonta, he chooses to die in the place where they were murdered and to be buried among them, thereby giving meaning to his death as an act of martyrdom for the sake of repair.Footnote ⁷² Moreover, in R. Nachman's choice to give this meaning to his death, he once again evades the long shadow of his great-grandfather. R. Nachman explains the death of the Besht as a result of his inability to deal with “difficult/harsh words.”Footnote ⁷³ The Besht died from such words; after the fact it turns out that his death led to a “mitigating of the decrees”—i.e., to repair. In contrast to the Besht, who experienced events against his will, R. Nachman is aware of all the processes taking place, and he controls them. He anticipates his impending death and even plans for it in advance as a ritual of repair.

Indeed, it is specifically in the matter of repairing the souls of the dead that R. Nachman emphasizes the exercising of his free choice. He says of himself that “faced with the will of the blessed God there exists no heaviness or toil in him concerning any Divine service . . . but the essence of his toil and suffering was in . . . the matter that remained up to him to choose to act in accordance with his own will, without being commanded to do so at all.”Footnote ⁷⁴ The prime example that he cites for such deliberation as to the proper manner of service in a realm given to his own discretion is the following question: should he direct his energies mainly to repairing tens of thousands of souls of the dead, or should he continue to exert himself to repair his living disciples and followers?Footnote ⁷⁵ He perceives these deliberations as the essence of free choice. R. Nachman's death is a decision—freely and deliberately made—to die in order to repair the tens of thousands of souls of the dead who are awaiting him in Uman. In this way, too, R. Nachman differentiates himself from the Besht by asserting his own free choice even with regard to his own death and its significance.