My father would often tell this story in the Sukkah. I haven’t seen it printed anywhere, so I am telling it how I heard it and loved it:
Once upon a time there was a Chassid traveling to his Rebbe (this story is told about Rabbi Naftali of Ropshitz, the Ropshitzer Rebbe) for the Sukkot holiday. He had been eager to spend this time in the special atmosphere and aura of the Chassidic community, and to drink deeply of his Rebbe’s spiritual teachings. But travel was difficult, the rains came down heavy and the roads turned to mud, and his wagon just couldn’t travel any further. As it turned out, he was stuck in a tiny farming village for the holiday.
Having little choice, the Chassid found the small synagogue, mostly farmers and other craftsman Jews. The service was simple, and after the prayers one of the farmers invited him home to spend the holiday. The farmer was a nice enough guy, the food was good. But there was little inspiration, the talk around the table was mostly farm chatter. Then another older farmer stopped by to visit, and his host and the guest talked about the season’s crops.
He was happy to have a place to be, but he was quite disappointed. After all, he made this special trip to spend the holidays in an uplifting spiritual atmosphere, and to his frustration and chagrin he was stuck with these simple farmers. Oy! It bugged him to no end.
The same thing happened at each holiday meal. The food was good, they ate in the Sukkah, talked about meaningless things, and at some point during the meal another older farmer would pop in and they’d talk shop.
As soon has the holiday was over, this man rushed out. The rains had stopped, he got his wagon going and he was off. As soon as he entered his Rebbe’s doorway, the Rebbe looked at him beaming: “How was your holiday?”
“My holiday!?” the Chassid was exasperated. “What holiday? Yes, we ate in the Sukkah and ate festive meals, but my, what a loss. All they talked about was crops and farm matters. I was yearning to be here, to hear the spiritual insights and I missed it for that?”
The Rebbe sighed. He explained to the Chassid, that his farmer host was no ordinary farmer, but one of the generation’s hidden Tzadikim, righteous men. And the farmers who popped in to visit each night, were not friends from the neighborhood, but they were our forefathers, Abraham and Isaac, who visit each Sukkah. The conversation may have sounded to you as if it was about crops and yields and harvest, but it was all metaphor for the Jewish people who are called “the first of G-d’s crops…” You were sitting right there, but sadly you missed it.
His Rebbe made the point from this verse: When G-d calls Moshe to come up on the Mountain he said: “Come up to me on the mountain, and be there!” Why and “Be There” won’t he be on the mountain if he comes up? Why does the verse add – and be there!
This shows us that sometimes we can be at the mountaintop, at a great spiritual peak, and yet not be there. Let’s be there! Let’s realize the spiritual heights attainable even when we least expect it. We are on the mountain right now!