In the case of Reb Shayale, we don’t have to wonder what to do, because he made it clear
It’s that time of year.
The 3rd of Iyar. The yahrtzeit of the Rebbe, Reb Shayale of Kerestir. Rav Yeshaya ben Rav Moshe.
To different people, this means different things. Some travel to daven at his kever, while others stay local, honoring his legacy by providing food for other Yidden, just as he taught.
For me, it means receiving a stream of incoming messages, pictures, and clips of gastronomic excess, all in the name of this tzaddik, who expressed the hope that Yidden would merit abundance. As Reb Shayale himself said: “While some Rebbes engage in razin d’razin [a kabbalistic term for the mysteries of creation, the secrets of secrets], here, we work on l’soiva v’lo l’rozoin [a play on the tefillah, “For plenty and not for scarcity”].”
The senders of these messages are by and large Litvaks suffering from a condition called Reb Shayale Derangement Syndrome, so I try to be sympathetic. I am the lucky recipient of their ire, ostensibly, because I had the zechus to write the biography of this tzaddik, so it stands to reason that I am complicit in this mass exploitation of his legacy.
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