| ||||
|
IN-DEPTH FEATURES
This article, written by the celebrated author Rabbi Dovid
Zaritsky, was published twenty-six years ago in the
Yiddishe Tribune overseas, in Yiddish, on Friday 13th
of Shvat 5735 (1975). A rare copy found its way from America
to Yated Ne'eman and was translated. It provides a
unique perspective on many aspects of the unique greatness of
HaRav Shach, zt"l. The article was edited by Rabbi A.
Chafetz.
*
When one writes about a godol beTorah one does not
write to make him greater or to give him honor, because that
would probably result in nothing but disgrace for him and an
offense for the writer. One does not in fact write about the
outstanding qualities of the godol, but really about
our own weaknesses.
A Person
A day before HaRav Isser Zalman Meltzer ztvk"l passed
away (as we know he died suddenly), his niece, the wife of
HaRav Eliezer Menachem Man Shach (ylct"a) zt"l,
visited him and he said to her:
Listen my child, we are the sixth generation from the Ponim
Meiros. And one more thing I would like to say to you: I
repaid your mother the debt I owed her. When I was young I
was very spoiled and I was scared to go to the cheder
[by myself], and your mother took me there and back. Nu, I
remained her in her debt and I repaid my debt every day by
giving you your husband, Eliezer.
When Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer passed away, HaRav Shach said
five words: "He was really [actually] a person." And you,
dear readers, know what the word "really" means.
And HaRav Eliezer Shach is also "really" a person. Meaning --
in his essence. He is a human being with his two-hundred-and-
forty-eight limbs and three-hundred-and-sixty-five sinews
down to the smallest one, with every heartbeat and every
breath. He is a person down to the marrow of every bone in
his body.
Rav Eliezer Menachem Shach or, as he has been called for as
long as I can remember "der Pavluniker" (the
bochur from Pavlunik), is a slim short man. It appears
to anyone looking at him that he is too shy to look you in
the eye, and that he sees greatness in you. He looks at you
with respectful awe as befits a representative of Hashem in
this world. He was always like this: Full of derech
eretz for people, especially if the person was a yirei
Shomayim. Particularly if this yirei Shomayim Jew
deemed it fit come to him, he, Rav Eliezer Menachem Man
Shach, had to bow before him, like Avrohom Ovinu bowed before
the Arabs.
Rav Yisroel Portnoy, my mechuton from Boro Park, once
came to him in order to show his children the image of a
godol. So he dressed for the occasion and told the
children that with the money they wanted to spend on buying
his books from him they could buy Rishonim and
Acharonim . . . When this did not help, he himself
packed the books for them. After that he went to get them
refreshments and of course found nothing in the house, just a
bottle of black beer. He grabbed his hat and ran out of the
door to get refreshments for his important guests (at the
time he did not know my mechuton at all). They begged
him not to go and said to him: "We consider it as if we have
received it." So he made a condition that he would escort
them, that he would . . .
This was because he himself did not exist. There was the
Rashbo or the Ran. There are such wonderful Rans and such
incredible Tosfosim that there is no time to think of
oneself. He himself is also a person, but another person?
Your fellow man is everything.
When he is sick it is not so terrible. But when he can get
off his bed after a difficult operation, and he is just a
small person lying in a big room with other simple Jews. He
does not lie in his bed but gets up each time for another
patient:
He leans over him and speaks to him warmly in the questioning
tone typical of him: Would you like some tea? It is good for
the stomach, especially after surgery . . . And he runs
(literally runs) to the kitchen and brings the patient, a
young bochur, a cup of tea. He has a kind word for
another patient, and helps the third to the bathroom, and
personally brings the bedpan for the fourth or moves it under
the bed.
Professor Sheba stands there, one of the biggest experts in
Israel, not a great lover of chareidi Jews. He watches how
the old man runs around the room and asks who this is. The
Ponevezher Rosh Yeshiva. The patients do not have sufficient
praise, and the nurses . . .
Rav Eliezer does not know what everybody wants from him. He
also does not know that Professor Sheba became an
enthusiastic admirer of his until the day of his death.
He runs to say Tehillim for anyone. He will cry and
daven but when his wife was almost on her death bed
and the bochurim asked whether to run and say
Tehillim in the yeshiva, he said with trepidation:
"No. How can one be mevatel a few hundred
bochurim from the Torah? Ask them to say a few
kapitelach Tehillim after Mincha."
After the declaration of the State, when the Arabs bombed
Yerushalayim and dozens of people were killed and badly
injured, Rav Eliezer would run through whizzing bullets and
falling bombs to Shaarei Tzedek with a little pot to bring
some fresh milk and eggs for his rov, HaRav Isser Zalman
Meltzer and the Brisker Rov. But for himself . . . nothing .
. .
Because when a man is great, everyone is great, besides one
little man.
The Ponevezher Rosh Yeshiva moves amongst the boys and if he
sees that one of the bochurim's shoes are torn he
gives him a few liras: "Run, buy yourself a pair of new
shoes."
And he himself relates that during the First World War when
he was a young bochur, he slept on the bench in the
beis medrash and he was extremely cold and, as you
know, he was a batlan and could not push himself to be
near the oven. Therefore he would lie by the wall and freeze,
his pants falling apart at the seams and toes protruding from
his torn shoes. He tells this to his students dozens of years
later.
He runs to a levaya. The Rosh Yeshiva of the largest
yeshiva in Eretz Yisroel. They ask him: "Why does the
Rosh Yeshiva tire himself and not go in a car? The Rosh
Yeshiva is ill and weak and it is very hot!"
Rav Eliezer sits down half fainting and breathing heavily,
but he has to walk to the levaya and not drive.
Do you not understand why? Because long ago when he sat in
the beis hamedrash and froze, a Jew came in and gave
him an old coat. Of course today no one would glance at such
an old piece of clothing. Now this Jew has passed away. So
does he not have to run to the levaya? To actually run
and not drive.
As we said, Rav Eliezer is a mentsh with no
blemishes.
He races in and takes a mussar sefer sitting down to
learn with great enthusiasm. What happened? They told him
that someone had spoken against him. So, as he sees it, if
someone spoke loshon hora [against me] it is a sign
that I am also guilty of this trait, so I must purify myself
a little.
A person with no blemishes is a person with no negios
(personal interests). He himself has no problems. He lies ill
in the hospital, before a difficult operation, which even the
doctors give only a fifty percent chance of success. He hears
people in the next room speaking endlessly with the doctors.
Who are they talking about? He asks the bochurim.
They answer him that they are conferring with each other. He
becomes upset, what about stealing from the public? Doctors
are responsible for dozens maybe hundreds of patients, some
of whom are seriously ill, and because of me they are wasting
time and in the meantime other patients are waiting for them.
I do not want gezel . . . He himself is seriously
ill, but after a day or two in a convalescent home he
returned. He said he could not learn there.
He is too weak, but here a distraught women comes in, a young
lady who wants a brochoh for success in her
examination, others come to him for advice about a
shidduch, a brochoh for a sick person . . .
And when anyone comes to him, whoever it may be, he wears his
hat and kapoto and sits down to receive the person
with a warmth which spreads throughout the house, with
menshlichkeit that brings a smile to the poor man's
face which opens the heart, which wipes away the tears . .
.
And when the person, a regular person, sees the honor given
to him by the Rosh Yeshiva of Ponevezh, he becomes
strengthened and begins to appreciate himself, blood flows to
his face and he begins to feel the will to become a better
person. His attitude to people is already famous. It is the
attitude of a ordinary person to the godol hador. He
honors others with every movement, brings refreshments with
anything in the house, asks and inquires, and each person
feels his complete devotion to himself. This is one of the
reasons dozens of people come to him to receive his
blessings, ask his advice, ease their emotional burdens, to
ask which yeshiva to enter, to speak about shidduchim,
to request help, and he helps.
He gives hundred times more tzedokoh than either you
or me can imagine. He gives to anyone who comes. No one knows
from where he has the money, but his charity is out of the
ordinary. Maybe he distributes all his money he receives from
his books, for he himself does not need anything, what he
receives from the yeshiva is more than enough.
He becomes a fortress, maybe because he runs away from
himself, his incredible fear of kovod, his unlimited
love for every person, and because of who he is. As far back
as anyone can recall -- his entire being is Torah.
What are yissurim? Are you thinking: pain, surgery,
poverty? You are mistaken! Yissurim means that when
learning gemora, Rambam or a Rashbo you cannot in any
way understand. You run in the room, you run in the beis
hamedrash, you run and your body perspires, and you still
cannot comprehend. One of the talmidim recalls: Once I
came to the house and the Rebbetzin said to me: "He feels bad
today, you cannot even speak to him, he is ill!"
I was shocked. "What is wrong with him?"
"I do not know," the Rebbetzin replies. He is running to and
fro between the house and the yeshiva and from the yeshiva to
the house, in both places he looks green and yellow, and does
not know what to do with himself, he keeps on running back
and forth and sighing . . . The talmid, one of the
hundreds who are devoted to him, goes in search of his rov.
He is nowhere to be found.
He returns to his home and the Rebbetzin happily informs him
that the Rosh Yeshiva is boruch Hashem feeling well
again. "What did he take?" the talmid asks.
"Nothing. I saw him stand on a chair take out a sefer,
looking at it once or twice, and his color returned to normal
immediately. He even smiled and had something to eat. He has
not eaten -- and he has recuperated, Rav Eliezer is healthy
and well, his face shines."
Why my friend? To understand the Torah is his life, and not
to understand -- these are unbearable yissurim. What
is the meaning of not understanding? Not understanding? How
can one survive, how can one eat? How can one sleep when the
Tosafos blocks your vision like a huge cloud above
your head? This is all of life. For him there is no life [but
this], one becomes ill. One cannot live without understanding
the Tosafos or the Rashbo.
Not only the Ran is worth a million, but also the Rashbo, who
just now gave the shiur is worth a million and
sometimes two million. And the Rashbo or the Ritvo or the
Rambam flow in his veins, and have penetrated into the marrow
of his bones. It is said about him:
If they would cut pieces of his flesh, no blood would flow,
only passages of Rashbo!
It is worthwhile standing by him when he learns. His body
disappears, only a hunch remains, his head stuck between his
shoulders, bowed, bent over the gemora, or the
rishon or the acharon. One eye in the
gemora and one in Rashi or the Tosafos. Nothing else
exists in the world but the gemora or Rashi --
nothing.
Ten bochurim stand around him and he does not notice
them! A talmid who is discussing the shiur with
him stands by him! He summoned him to come to him at that
time! But he does not see or hear! The holy letters envelop
him! From head to toe! Until a talmid moves the
shtender he is leaning on . . . the talmid
knows he is permitted to do this. He arouses himself and
gives his familiar smile, an innocent child's smile.
What do Jews like us, for example, do when we hear a
kashe? We say that from a kashe one does not
die. But Rav Eliezer becomes ill when he has a kashe,
really becomes ill. Because the meaning of a kashe is
not understanding and the meaning of not understanding is --
but this we have discussed already.
So he grabs the gemora or the Rashbo and runs to the
beis hamedrash, catches a bochur he knows
because he comes to discuss limud with him, calls him,
puts the gemora or the Rambam or the Ran on the
shtender and says to the bochur, his
talmid -- I do not know, I do not understand, let's
discuss it, let's talk about it.
As Rabbeinu Yonah says on Pirkei Ovos: This may be
compared to someone who loses a precious object. Will he be
embarrassed to run to everyone, even a child and ask him: Did
you happen to see my precious treasure?
And so Chazal tell us, Rabbeinu Yonah explains, "And most of
all from his pupils," I have learned from all those whom I
taught, for when we do not understand, we are missing a
treasure, therefore there is nothing to be ashamed of, one
has to run from one person to the other, maybe he, the small
talmid, has found my treasure . . .
And Rav Eliezer Menachem Man Shach runs to every
talmid, even to a regular Jew in Bnei Brak, and stops
him with his typical innocence:
The gemora or the Tosafos or the Rambam is
difficult for me, could we discuss this matter . . . Because
if I don't understand . . . If the day has passed without
his comprehending, he genuinely complains to his
talmid: Today I had a very difficult day, mamesh
sakonas nefoshos. Only his closest talmidim know
how difficult the Rosh Yeshiva's day was.
If so, there is nothing standing in the way of comprehension,
not surgery and even not an anesthetic.
I ask you, can one live without comprehending a pshat
in the gemora and Rambam on the sugya of
"Pirchei Kehuna took him out . . . and smashed his
head . . . There is a Rambam there. But it is difficult and
he cannot live, without exaggeration, one cannot survive
under such circumstances. So what if it is half an hour
before an operation and you are under anesthesia! When the
Rambam does not let you alone and the sugya is crying
"Gevald Reb Eliezer, understand me!"
His students stand around him while he is under anesthesia
and he suddenly begins to make motions with his hands. The
weak hands of the Rosh Yeshiva, without an ounce of strength,
and he murmurs: "`Smashed his head' -- what is the meaning of
this here?" The arms are waving and with them the whole
broken body. Anesthesia is able to silence the pain. Even
surgery pains are not felt under anesthesia. But when his
life is dependent on a teirutz, anesthesia does not
help Reb Eliezer.
The doctors cannot believe what they are seeing, but their
eyes are wide open. There is no choice but to tie him down,
because his hand movements open his wound and interfere with
the operation.
Because of this sugya he had a terrible Pesach, but
this was only by the way.
When the Rebbetzin was terminally ill, he sat by her day and
night. The talmidim who escorted their rov saw him run
back and forth in the room, his head bent on his chest and he
was pacing back and forth, thinking as usual, a little bent,
only listening to what the doctors had to say, running every
few minutes to the bed, and then resuming his pacing around
the room.
Towards evening he returned to his home wet, perspiring,
weak. He could barely utter a word, but he ran to the
cupboard, took out a large piece of paper and began writing
furiously. A talmid who saw this was so surprised that
his recollection of the subject the Rov was writing about
stayed in his memory -- perek 25 of hilchos
Eidus of the Rambam. And he stood there, Rav Eliezer
Menachem Man and wrote rapidly and still more rapidly. The
sheet filled up then another one and again one . . . All
this he was mechadesh during his wife's
yissurim. He cannot die with her and without
Torah one dies . . .
He was mechadesh even then.
When he finished writing, he sat down, fell and told the
talmid: "Oy, I feel faint in my heart, my heart has
weakened." Then he ate something. Until he had completed
writing his chidushim his heart did not realize it
could become weak.
"To understand" means understanding thoroughly, no doubt
should remain, to imbue the truth into one's limbs. For this,
one has to toil until the end of one's strength. And after a
whole night of toil he gives a shiur and he has to
change his clothes from head to foot because they are all wet
with perspiration.
"For by the sweat of your brow . . ." -- This is, after all
his bread: the Torah.
Rav Chaim zt"l said about Rav Isser Zalman zt"l
that he was capable of saying brilliant chidushim but
because he had such yiras Shomayim he would often
hesitate to say them for fear they did not contain the true
essence of Torah.
And Rav Eliezer Menachem Man, his talmid, was the
same: the truth in limud. He gives a difficult
shiur on the Rashbo. Everyone thinks it is wonderful.
Suddenly a boy of sixteen, a genius, has another pshat
on the Rashbo. Rav Eliezer stands a moment and then smiles
and says to the group of elite bochurim: "My
pshat on the Rashbo is good, but the true pshat
is what this young bochur said."
This is the meaning of "I have learned from all those who
have taught me," the young bochur found the
treasure.
He says to some of his close students: You ask questions on
the shiur. I have answers, one can find an answer, but
to answer is not a kuntz when one feels the questioner
is right.
Rav Isser Zalman did not say this about him for nothing: His
limud is my amulet. Even the Communists were amazed by
this young bochur and imitated the way he learned.
When they succeeded in the Revolution they would investigate
Yeshiva bochurim. One day they saw a bochur
running and running. They followed him to see where he was
headed until they saw him entering the beis medrash,
grabbing a gemora and beginning to sway at the same
moment, like one gulps down a drink when one is very
thirsty.
The thirst for Torah never left him, not until this day, not
at Reb Isser Zalman, not in Kletsk, not in Mir, not in
Loninets next to Pinsk, where he was the rosh yeshiva of
Karlin, to eat or not to eat, a tiny room, a straw mattress,
not to travel home an entire zman, only to learn, day
and night on Yom Kippur and during the breaks on Simchas
Torah between one dance and the next, on the night of Pesach
before the seder, always.
Do you know what chibut hakever is?
When you lie on leil Shabbos in the hospital. There is
no light, there is no gemora, but you have a
kashe on Tosafos in Eruvin. The
gemora is not within reach and you cannot peruse it,
and you cannot sleep, because there is no way you will fall
asleep with this difficult Tosafos in Eruvin.
So you thrash about from side to side in your bed and you
have no peace all that long night. This is chivut
hakever.
Once they asked him to fly to America for shlichus for
one of the large educational institutions in Eretz
Yisroel. They promised him that he would not chas
vesholom have to go to all sorts of people. He would just
be a guest in a hotel and people would come to him. They were
sure that if people would come a large sum of money would be
collected.
He blushed with shame and complained, Why am I deserving of
such humiliation? How will I be able to endure so many people
staring at me . . . If you wish, take my hat and
kapote and send them, but I would not be able to
endure the humiliation . . .
Once they wanted him to receive an award for one of his
seforim. It pained him greatly, why should they give
me money for the Torah? For Torah?
I have already said: If we had written these lines about Rav
Eliezer Menachem Man, he would most probably be makpid
about the mention of his name, but these lines were written
for us to slap ourselves in the face.
We have not written who Rav Eliezer Menachem Man Shach
(shlita-zt"l) is; we have only written what we are
not.
Editor's comment: the end of this article is not complete due
to the fading of the last few lines.
All material
on this site is copyrighted and its use is restricted. |