The microphone squeaked half-heartedly as Nathan S., the best man of the chosson, lifted it out of the stand. He had been tasked with delivering a few words over dinner – heimish and heartfelt but not too insider-y, the groom had requested. With a good-natured wink towards his friend, he cleared his throat and began.

 

“On the occasion of your wedding, I want to share a story from Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, a story that speaks to the arc of the journey on which you are about to embark. ​​Towards the end of his too-short life, he relied heavily on telling stories, which he believed could awaken his listeners from their deep spiritual slumber. This particular story comes from a volume called ‘Fables and Parables,’ a collection of one hundred sixty-two tales of Rebbe Nahman published in the thirties.”

 

Nathan paused for dramatic effect and continued.

 

“Once an astrologer-king saw in the stars that anyone who would eat of the coming harvest would go mad. He called in his viceroy and friend to ask for his advice. 

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“Sire,” replied the counselor, “you and I shall eat only last year’s harvest, which is untainted. And so we shall remain sane.”

​

But the king replied, “I do not accept your proposal. How can we separate ourselves from our people? To remain the only sane people among a nation of madmen -- they will think we are the ones who are mad. Instead, you and I shall eat of the tainted grain, and shall enter into madness with our people.”

​

The king thought for a moment, then said, “We must, however, at least recognize our malady. Therefore, you and I shall mark each other’s foreheads with a sign. And every time we look at one another, we shall remember that we are mad.”

 

Nathan exhaled to let the story simmer. “For a newly married couple, blissfully in love, there is certainly an impulse to discard the rest of the world – and who could blame you for it? Let the rest of the world go mad while you live out your days with your best friend on a permanent honeymoon. And even when they call you mad, misdiagnosing as lunacy the chemistry and private life of a couple in sync, it wouldn’t quite matter. You alone would know how special the love you share is, and you wouldn’t need to bother to share it with the outside world. 

​

“But from what I know about you two, it seems clear to me that you will decide like the king. The two of you will choose to grace the larger kingdom with your hearts and minds, joining in their madness and sharing of your light to illuminate the farthest corners of the realm.  Yours will be a life together that makes those around you better, and is in turn made better for it. 

​

“And yet, as the years go by, the memory of this choice might recede. In those moments, my beracha for you both is that you can pause and, like the king and his advisor, remind each other that you are mad. Remind each other that even as much as you are totally immersed in the crazy, untethered world around you, there is one other person who is your partner within it, who will keep you anchored to the awareness that you are mad and this is mad and everything about this is mad – and you’re doing it anyway, and doing it together. 

​

As you prepare to mark those signs on each other’s foreheads – or, more to the point, your fingers – I hope that you will always be able to find the signs again when you need them, and even sometimes when you don’t. Mazl tov.” 

 

Nathan stayed long after the sounds of the band had receded and all the guests had departed, soaking up every last moment of the simcha.

​

He looked up to see the wedding couple walking towards him, holding hands as they stepped lightly across the deflated remains of the balloons and confetti strewn across the dance floor. Nathan smiled as they drew closer, feeling the vibrations of their own happiness. 

​

The kallah addressed him first. “What happens next in the story?” she asked. “What happens to the king and his counselor, now that they’ve made this decision?" 

​

Nathan shrugged. “I think they would take a week or two to process the decision together in private and prepare themselves for the road ahead. But the next step after that, of course, is to eat the grain itself.”

​

“Does the king even know where the grain grows? Where will he find it?” the groom wondered.

​

“Of course he does,” Nathan said. 

​

“He’ll be in the field.”

 

ר"ש הורביץ, "מעשיות ומשלים", סיפורים נפלאים, תרצ"ה, 1935' ״המשל מהתבואה״.

״המשל מהתבואה, שפ"א [=שפעם אחת) אמר המלך לאהובו השני למלך: "באשר אני חוזה בכוכבים, רואה אני שכל התבואה שיגדל בשנה זאת, מי שיאכל ממנה יהי'ה נעשה משוגע. א"כ [=אם כן] יטכס עצה". וענה לו, שע"כ [=שעל כן] יכינו בעדם תבואה שלא יצטרכו לאכול מהתבואה הנ"ל. וענה לו המלך: "א"כ כשאנחנו לבד לא נהי'ה משוגעים, וכל העולם יהי'[ה] משוגע, אז יהי'ה) להפך (ולהכין בשביל כולם א"א [=אי אפשר) שאנחנו יהיו המשוגעים. ע"כ בוודאי נצטרך ג"כ [=גם כן] לאכול מהתבואה, אבל רק זה שנסמן סימן על מצחינו שנדע עכ"פ [=על כל פנים] שאנחנו משוגע. שאם אהיה מסתכל על מצחך וכן כשתסתכל על מצחי נדע מהסימן שאנחנו משוגע.״

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Glossary of Non-English Words in Order of Appearance:

Chosson: Groom.

Heimish: Familiar, homey, cozy, or unpretentious.

Beracha: Blessing.

Simcha: Lit. “joy,” here denotes a joyous occasion. 

Kallah: Bride.