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December 24, 2010

Visiting with tzadikim

We can learn faith from the customs of ancestors.
RABBI ILAN ACOCA

One of my most enduring memories from childhood is of my grandmother, Rachel Abecassis, the mother of my mother. My grandmother was truly a holy woman. She had no formal education – she didn’t know how to read and spoke only Arabic – but she walked with G-d.

A vivid image of my grandmother waking up every morning, approaching the mezuzah and praying remains with me to this day. I even remember her words as she conversed with G-d, her beloved.

Mémé prayed for her children and grandchildren; indeed, for her whole family.  She prayed for the soldiers protecting Israel. Her prayer was powerful in its simplicity. A treasure I grew up with and continue to cherish, her memory continues to inspire me and reinforce my faith, leaving no room for despair.

I have asked myself time and again what the secret of this simple, heartfelt faith in G-d is. The only answer I come up with is that it has something to do with the upbringing of her generation.

My grandmother’s generation grew up with this faith, literally from birth. It seems it was something palpably innate in them, while, today, I strive to acquire it. Part of our ancestors’ faith was emunat tzadikim, faith in the righteous and saintly. I would often hear my grandmother pray in the merit of certain tzadikim (righteous people); she believed the tzadikim were so close to G-d that they could pray on her behalf.

The concept of emunat tzadikim originates in our Torah. After the Jewish nation crossed the Red Sea, the Torah proclaims, the Israelites believed in G-d and His faithful servant, Moshe, without reservation.

The Ibn Ezra (1093-1167) explains that, at this point in their journey, the Jews saw Moshe as the vessel for the voice of G-d. The spiritual level of His servant was such that, after Moshe’s sister, the saintly Miriam, was afflicted with leprosy, Moshe prayed on her behalf – and she was cured.

A tzadik has the merit of being so close to G-d that, if he asks for something of G-d, it’s difficult for Him to refuse. We recall what King David wrote in Psalm 145: “He will fulfil the will of those who fear him and hear their cries and save them.”

In Sephardi communities, there exists a custom called, in Arabic, zeyara (visiting). Zeyara is a widely held custom where individuals, even whole communities, visit the gravesites of tzadikim on the anniversaries of their deaths and beseech G-d in the merit of these saintly people. This is not a pagan tradition where we transform the tzadikim into G-d; rather, we pray to G-d in the merit of these tzadikim.

My mother, born in the city of Mogador in Morocco, tells of witnessing miracles with her own eyes, wonders realized through prayer at the grave and in the merit of the revered Rabbi Chaim Pinto, of blessed memory, who is buried there. These miracles were an accepted fact for my mother and her generation.

I endeavor to uphold this tradition whenever I have the chance to be at the gravesite of a tzadik or where a tzadik lives, be he Ashkenazi, Chasid or Sephardi. I inevitably feel so refreshed, so moved, as if my soul becomes further infused with faith and purpose.

Whether graveside or in the company of a living tzadik, or from afar through prayer and mitzvot, all of us can strive in our own lives for the very real help of our tzadikim.

This article was originally published in Canadian Jewish News.

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