The followers of the Ba'al Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidic Judaism, knew a thing or two about joy. Every year, they celebrated Simhat Torah – the culmination of Sukkot and a day of unbridled rejoicing – with wild dancing and singing. Simhat Torah, meaning "Rejoicing with the Torah," marks the completion of the annual cycle of Torah readings, and the immediate beginning of a new one. It's a day when Jews dance with the Torah scrolls in their arms, expressing their love for God's teachings.
But one year, something was different. The Ba'al Shem Tov, usually the heart of the celebration, stood apart, strangely somber amidst the jubilant throng. Then, in a moment that seemed to defy reality, a shoe flew off the foot of Rabbi Dov Baer as he whirled in dance. And at that very instant, the Ba'al Shem Tov smiled.
What was going on?
A little later, the Hasidim saw their Rebbe, the Ba'al Shem Tov, pull a handful of leaves from his pocket. He crushed them, scattering their powder in the air, filling the room with an otherworldly scent – a fragrance reminiscent of Paradise itself. Then, the Ba'al Shem Tov joined the dancing with a fervor they'd never witnessed before. He was possessed by joy, and his joy was contagious.
Afterward, breathless and curious, one of the Hasidim dared to ask: "Rebbe, why were you so solemn, and then so suddenly joyful?"
The Ba'al Shem Tov explained. "While you were dancing," he said, "I entered a trance. My soul soared from this room, all the way to the Garden of Eden." Imagine that – the Garden of Eden! "I went there to bring back leaves, to imbue this Simhat Torah with the very essence of Paradise. I gathered those fallen leaves with such pleasure, tucking them into my pocket."
But that wasn't all. As he gathered the leaves, he noticed something extraordinary. "Scattered throughout the Garden were fringes from prayer shawls, pieces of worn tefillin straps" – those are the leather straps Jews bind around their arm and head during prayer – "and even… shoes. Heels, soles, shoelaces, sometimes even whole shoes!" And each of these objects, he said, glowed like a spark, even the shoes. "As soon as they entered the Garden of Eden, they began to glow."
The Ba'al Shem Tov was not surprised by the fringes and straps, those remnants of sacred objects. But the shoes? What were shoes doing in Paradise?
"Just then," the Ba'al Shem Tov continued, turning to face Rabbi Dov Baer, "a shoe flew into the Garden of Eden. And I recognized it at once as yours, Dov! I realized then that your love of God was so great, so powerful, that your shoe had flown all the way there. That is when I understood why there were shoes in the Garden of Eden. And that is why I smiled."
What a moment! According to this story from Tree of Souls by Howard Schwartz, the sheer fervor of Rabbi Dov Baer's devotion literally propelled his shoe into Paradise!
The story continues. The Ba'al Shem Tov would have returned immediately to join the celebration, but then he saw two angels appear. They were there to sweep and clean the Garden, gathering those precious, glowing objects.
"I asked the angels what they were going to do with the shoes," the Ba'al Shem Tov recounted. "And one of them said, 'These shoes have flown here from the feet of Jews dancing with the Torah. They are very precious to God, and soon the angel Gabriel will make a crown out of them for God to wear on His Throne of Glory.'"
Think about that for a moment. Shoes – ordinary, everyday objects – transformed into something sacred, elevated to adorn the Divine. It reminds me of the Zohar's teachings on the sparks of holiness hidden within the mundane.
The Ba'al Shem Tov finished his story, and the room fell silent, filled with awe. And Rabbi Dov Baer's shoe? It was never seen again, having truly taken flight to the Garden of Eden.
This beautiful story from Simhat Torah, retold in many forms including Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, reminds us that even the most ordinary things can be infused with extraordinary holiness through devotion and joy. That our love, our dedication, our very being, can elevate the mundane to the Divine. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What ordinary act of ours might be, unbeknownst to us, flying straight to Paradise?