There's a story about a rabbi, Rabbi Hayim ben Attar, known as the Or ha-Hayim (אור החיים), "the light of life," after his famous biblical commentary. He lived in Jerusalem and had a peculiar habit. Every week, as Shabbat ended, he would leave his home and spend the entire week in the mountains around the city.
He wasn't exactly roughing it. He took seven challahs – those beautiful, braided loaves of Sabbath bread – and a pitcher of milk with him. Then, just before the next Shabbat arrived, he would return home, ready to greet the holy day. And when Shabbat came, he would begin chanting the Song of Songs, Shir ha-Shirim, with such intensity, such fervor.
But here's where it gets truly interesting. As he chanted, people around him would hear the sound of wings. Imagine that! A chorus of unseen wings accompanying the ancient words of love and longing. When asked about it, the Or ha-Hayim explained that those were the souls he had repaired during the week, while he was alone in the mountains. He was gathering souls.
It was said that even his wife throwing out the challah crumbs after the meal would cause a flurry of wings, as these souls came to partake in the leftovers of a tzaddik (צדיק), a righteous man. Incredible, right?
But the story doesn't end there. During the Yamim Noraim (ימים נוראים), the Days of Awe – that period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur when our tradition invites deep introspection and repentance – the Or ha-Hayim would leave Jerusalem again. This time, he would go to the shore of Lake Kinneret, the Sea of Galilee, and spend the eve of Rosh Hashanah alone in a small hut. People would see him entering the water from time to time.
Someone eventually asked him why he did this. His reply? "I am assisting the souls that are here to immerse themselves in the Kinneret, to sanctify themselves before the onset of Rosh Hashanah." It became clear to those close to him that during the Days of Awe, the Or ha-Hayim was deeply engaged in restoring lost souls.
What does it all mean? We find a key, perhaps, in the teachings of the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria, who emphasized tikkun olam (תיקון עולם), repairing the world, as the most important action we can take. For rabbis like the Or ha-Hayim and Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, this repair extended to raising up the souls of the dead who had become trapped in this world. As Schwartz tells us in Tree of Souls, this idea of "Gathering Souls" shows the Or ha-Hayim doing this holy work throughout the week, only to be followed by the flocks of souls he freed upon his return for Shabbat.
Think about it. The Or ha-Hayim, the most famous Jewish sage in the Holy Land at the time, considered by some Hasidim to be on par with the Ba'al Shem Tov himself! There's even a tradition that heaven prevented the Ba'al Shem Tov from going to the Holy Land because the combined merits of these two great figures, alongside the holiness of the land, would have forced the coming of the Messiah!
So, what are we to make of this image of a rabbi wandering in the mountains, chanting by the lake, surrounded by the unseen wings of gathered souls? Perhaps it’s a reminder that even in our own lives, we have the opportunity to engage in tikkun olam, to repair the world, one soul, one act of kindness at a time. Maybe the mountains and lakes aren't so far away after all.