A terrifying dybbuk encounter.
A haunting question from Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz.
And one chilling answer about why people cling to destructive habits—even when faced with the truth.
The teachings of the Chofetz Chaim reveal how the more we attach ourselves to emes and kedusha, the easier it becomes to break free and hold on to what truly lasts forever.
Listen on: 
Dedicated by Reuven & Pnina Roberts (Far Rockaway, NY) as a zechus for a shidduch for Shoshana bas Fereshta Flora
Parshas Naso 5786
This Wednesday, י״ח סיון, marks the yahrtzeit of the legendary Mirrer Mashgiach, Rav Yerucham Levovitz זי״ע, one of the great builders of Torah and masters of mussar. Through his penetrating clarity, deep understanding of the human condition, and unwavering demand for אמת, Rav Yerucham shaped generations of talmidim and helped define the talmidim of the Mir Yeshiva and our greatest leaders until today.
The following remarkable story, adapted from Rav Yerucham: The Light of the Torah World (Judaica Press), pp. 86–87, offers not only a glimpse into an extraordinary episode involving himself, the Chafetz Chaim, and Rav Elchanan Wasserman, but more importantly, an even greater insight into human nature itself. It’s a story from 100 years ago, but the message is something we can all identify with.
THE DYBBUK
During the years that Rav Yerucham studied in the Kollel Kodshim in Radin, an unusual episode took place that became widely discussed throughout Lithuanian Jewish communities.
A villager from near Eishishok came to Radin with his fourteen-year-old daughter, claiming that she had become possessed by a dybbuk. He told Rav Elchanan Wasserman that after drinking a cup of water, she began collapsing, and an unfamiliar voice would speak from within her.
According to those present, the voice claimed to be the soul of a Jewish girl who had left Yiddishkeit and had caused the deaths of two Jewish children. After her death, the Heavenly Court had sentenced her to wander through a gilgul neshamos.
The Chafetz Chaim instructed several members of the kollel, including Rav Elchanan Wasserman, Rav Eliyahu Dushnitzer, and Rav Yerucham, to investigate the matter. They questioned the spirit, and it said that if the Chafetz Chaim himself would command it to leave, it would obey. It also requested that two members of the kollel recite Kaddish for it for seven days.
Rav Yerucham later recalled one exchange. He asked how Chazal could say that even wicked people standing at the entrance to Gehinnom refuse to repent. He expected a deep mystical answer, but the response was simple: people become so attached to their wrongdoing that they cannot separate from it, even when faced with the truth.
Eventually, Rav Elchanan continued dealing with the matter until the spirit left the girl. Afterwards, the Chafetz Chaim gathered a minyan in the kollel, joined them for davening, and arranged for mishnayos and Kaddish to be said as requested.
Years later, Rav Yerucham reflected on the entire episode. What astonished him most was not the supernatural experience itself, but the reaction afterward. He had assumed that witnessing something so extraordinary, a revelation connected to the Olam Ha’emes, would ignite tremendous spiritual growth within the yeshiva. He expected greater passion in tefillah and stronger dedication in learning. Yet, in the end, life in the yeshiva largely continued unchanged.
A MESSAGE FOR US
What does that have to do with us?
It reminds us that yes, we can see the emes. But the more attached we are to our aveiros, the more steeped we become in our habits and routines, the harder it is to break away.
We want to. We see the truth. We recognize what needs to change. Yet there is something so powerful, a magnetic force that locks us in place like a massive boulder. We simply cannot push it off.
That is the frightening message of the dybbuk.
But what is the point of the story? What is the message for us?
After all, we are looking for chizuk. We do not want to walk away feeling that there is no way out. So what do we do?
The truth is, there is no simple answer.
Back in Radin, back in Kelm, back when this entire episode unfolded, they struggled with the very same question. They wanted to grow. They wanted to change. The yeshivah witnessed the entire event, yet life continued. Learning continued. There was no overnight revolution.
So what can we do a hundred years later?
I do not have an answer. But I think we do have a perspective, from the Chafetz Chaim himself.
THEY ARE "TO HIM"
The pasuk in this weeks parshah in the middle of hilchos gezeila, right before the parsha of sotah relates (Bamidbar 5:10):
“איש את קדשיו לו יהיו ואשר יתן לכהן לו יהיה”
On a simple level, the pasuk means that a man’s holy gifts shall be his, and what a man gives to a Kohen belongs to the Kohen. You keep yours, and whatever you give to the Kohen belongs to him. That is the straightforward reading of the pasuk.
The Chafetz Chaim, however, reveals something astounding. He writes that every person, from all of his efforts, all of his work, all of his investments and accomplishments, ultimately takes nothing with him. A person may earn money, support a family, and build a livelihood, but none of that is what ultimately accompanies him into the World of Truth.
What does remain? The Chafetz Chaim answers: Only those matters of holiness that a person personally fulfilled while alive. Only the Torah, mitzvos, and maasim tovim that he performed. “המה יהיו לו לנצח.” Those remain his forever. Those endure for eternity.
This, says the Chafetz Chaim, is the deeper meaning of איש את קדשיו לו יהיו. Not merely that his sacred gifts belong to him, but that those acts of kedushah become his eternal possessions. They remain his forever. They accompany him eternally. They are his true friends and companions.
The pasuk then continues, “ואשר יתן לכהן לו יהיה.” What does that mean?
The simple pshat is that what you give to the Kohen belongs to the Kohen. But the Chafetz Chaim says something deeper. It belongs to you as well. When I give to the Kohen, to tzedakah, or for a holy purpose, I am not losing. I am investing. I am securing the only possession that can never be taken away.
And perhaps that is the connection to the dybbuk story.
Yes, it can be frightening. We wonder how, in our generation, with all the distractions, tumah, confusion, and noise, a person can remain focused. There are a million reasons to become distracted, discouraged, and meya’esh.
But never forget:
“איש את קדשיו לו יהיו.”
Never forget what really belongs to you. Never forget what you are taking with you. Never forget what will remain in your backpack forever and accompany you into the next world.
It is not the fun, the entertainment, the extra taanug, or the indulgences. All of that disappears. What remains are the mitzvos, the Torah, and the maasim tovim.
And perhaps that is what Rav Yerucham was teaching us.
Those standing at the entrance of Gehinnom struggle to repent not because they cannot see the truth. They see it. The problem is that they have become so steeped and attached to sheker.
The answer is not merely seeing the truth. The answer is living with the truth.
The more we ingrain these values into ourselves and truly live them, the less attached we become to shtusim, fleeting pleasures, and temporary pursuits. And the more attached we become to emes, to Torah, to mitzvos, and to maasim tovim.
The more we live with “איש את קדשיו לו יהיו,” the easier it becomes to remain on the side of truth.
The more plugged into emes we become, the less powerful the pull of sheker becomes. Perhaps that is exactly what the dybbuk was teaching Rav Yerucham. The tragedy is not that people fail to see the truth. The tragedy is becoming so accustomed to falsehood that even when the truth stands before them, they struggle to embrace it.
Our task is the opposite. To become so attached to Torah, so accustomed to mitzvos, so invested in kedushah, that emes becomes our default setting and our natural home.
May the teachings of Rav Yerucham and the timeless words of the Chafetz Chaim continue to illuminate our path, reminding us what truly matters, what truly lasts, and what truly belongs to us. And may that clarity inspire us to live lives of purpose, greatness, and eternal significance, until the coming of Mashiach Tzidkeinu במהרה בימינו אמן. •
