This important essay was originally published before Pesach 1995 — Nisan 5755.
"And this is what has stood [firm] for us" (Haggadah Shel Pesach)
What is it that has stood by us, enabling us to survive all this time?
The answer is, "Because more than one power has arisen to destroy us..." Those who rise up against us preserve us. Our preservation is due to the fact that our enemies' persecution always causes us to return to Hashem, as Rashi explains at the beginning of parshas Nitzovim, that our suffering is what preserves us and enables us to remain standing.
The Initial Approach
The four sons mentioned in the Haggadah can be understood in an agaddic vein as referring to four consecutive generations.
The first is a Torah scholar who misdirects his wisdom and becomes a "man of cultured enlightenment." His son will be an evildoer who deserts Yiddishkeit. His son, the third generation, is ignorant and asks, "What is all this about?" Although he knows nothing about Judaism, he feels his deficiency and knows that there is something there to ask about. His son however, feels that it is of no concern to him at all.
Though to us it may appear that there is no hope whatsoever for such a person, this is incorrect. We are instructed, "You provide him with a beginning!" Go over to him and speak to him gently as the holy tannaim did (see Bava Metzia 85). They went looking for the children of ignoramuses and the offspring of Torah scholars who had left Torah, in order to bring them back to Hashem.
The great amount of Divine assistance which accompanies this work is clearly apparent to us. This assistance is only granted because in Gan Eden, the ancestors of these children are entreating Hashem on their behalf, and their fathers' merit comes to the aid of their descendants.
There also exist actual histories of earlier times. For example, one godol arrived in a certain country where the Jews had completely forgotten about the mitzva of tefillin. He had to swear an oath to them that such a mitzva existed. After a few years however, he had made them all into fine, G-d fearing Jews.
Similarly, I know one rav who arrived in a city where there was not a trace of Torah or yiras Shomayim. That rav was very clever, however. Instead of writing seforim and chidushei Torah or doing other things which `befit' a man of his stature, he put all his energy into drawing the youth close to him. The result was that "the lambs grew up into rams" and within a few years, most members of the community were his disciples, who set aside time for learning and honored Torah. You can understand how he was able to achieve such great things for Torah.
On the other hand, a man once told me how he arrived in a certain large city where an extremely great gaon—whose seforim are widely known and praised—was living. In this gaon's home however, the man only found a few bochurim and some elderly members of the community.
He then went to visit another of that city's rabbonim, a modern rav, who knew the language of the land etc. This rav's house was full of people who were waiting to speak to the rav.
The man told me, "If that gaon would only have spent a little of his time on secular learning and would have dressed in a slightly more modern way, he would have commanded such respect, for the other rav didn't reach his ankles in Torah learning!"
I answered him, "You are gravely mistaken. The reverse is true—as things are, they still respect the gaon because they do not understand him and it is human nature to be afraid of the unknown. They are afraid of incurring his censure in the same way that they would fear the bite of a strange creature.
"Your comment should have been a different one. `If that gaon would have spent some of his time in establishing and supporting yeshivos ketanos in his city and would have written one sefer less, the spirit of Torah would be alive today in the city and people would now be coming to him to hear Hashem's words!'" After some consideration, the man agreed with me.
Moshe Rabbenu prayed that Hashem appoint someone over the congregation, "who will go out in front of them and will come in front of them, who will take them out and will bring them in." A leader has to stand at the front, not to issue rulings while he sits at home. In every endeavor, he must be the first to act. That alone is also not enough. He must be [continually] looking backwards to see if his community is following him. If not, he must go back, take hold of them and bring them with him.
That is true leadership.
We, however, are living in a time of the fulfillment of the explanation given by Rav Yisroel Salanter of the mishna's description of the generation preceding Moshiach: "The face of the generation is like the face of a dog." The dog runs in front of his master and somebody watching could be led to assume that the master is following the dog wherever it decides to go. Upon arriving at a corner, or a crossroads however, the truth becomes apparent. The dog stands still and waits to see which way its master wants to go.
In our many sins, this is how things are today. The generation's `face,' the leaders, have to turn around backwards—just like the dog does—in order to see in which direction their communities would like to be `led.'
A leader in whom Hashem's Torah and fear of Heaven burn brightly is not like this. He goes in front and leads others in whichever way the spirit of Torah dictates. First though, he must win their loyalty so that they will want to listen to him. This can only happen if they understand the value of Torah and that can take place only if he teaches them about the Torah's path [in life.] This is in truth, a task which requires on the rav's part, much wisdom and thought and possibly even some lowering of the honor which is really due to him, in order to be sure of ultimately securing the Torah's honor.
Once I was standing and speaking to another Jew in the marketplace when a young man whom I knew—an ordinary working boy—passed by on the other side of the street. He called out to me, "Rabbi! Please come over here!" I crossed the street and discussed whatever he had wanted to speak about.
When I returned, my partner was very annoyed. He was seething because I had cheapened the Torah's honor and gone over to that ignorant fellow instead of having him come to me and wait respectfully until I was free to speak to him. I gave a very simple retort. "Today I went to him and tomorrow he'll come to me. If I don't go to him the first time, he'll never approach me."
This was the advice which King Rechavom's wise advisors gave him, "Today, you be a servant to this people" (Melachim I 12:7). If you will be their servant for just one day, then you will be able to rule and afterwards you'll be able to do whatever you want. If though, you insist on your full honor right from the beginning, you'll soon be unable to do a thing.
And that is what happened in fact, after the king preferred taking the advice of the youths—whose constructions lead ultimately to destruction—with the result that he lost the Ten Tribes entirely.
Every leader must know when to forgo his honor. If a rosh yeshiva wants his pupils to come over for Torah discussions, he must first go over to them in order to draw them close and to give them a taste of Torah. Then, when they see what Torah is and see that he can answer their difficulties, they will develop new questions and will come to him. If he doesn't make a start, there will be nothing for him to continue.
Chazal did not advise us, "Take care over the sons of geniuses," but, "Take care over the sons of the poor, for Torah will come forth from them," (Nedarim daf 81). I have seen many extremely gifted students, in whom their rebbes invested great efforts but from whom Klal Yisroel later derived no benefits at all. They were like Eylom, which merited to learn but not to teach.
"Why is the price in the fool's hand to buy wisdom but he lacks a heart?" (Mishlei 17:16) This posuk doesn't say that the fool lacks a head. It says he lacks a heart. He may be very clever—even in Torah—but still lack a heart, so that there are nobody else benefits from his wisdom. The sons of the poor, even if they know nothing and their abilities are not so great, possess contrite and lowly hearts and they can be filled with Torah and yiras shomayim.
In brief, very great efforts must be made to draw the children of ignorant people close to Torah. One can merit unlimited reward for doing this work, as Chazal have said, "Whoever teaches Torah to the son of an ignorant man will have a decree that Hashem has made, annulled for him."
This is an unimaginably high level—it is literally the level of the thirty-six hidden tzadikim. And how does one attain this level? Not simply by learning day and night, or by learning Kabalah and engaging in contemplations of Hashem's unity but by lowering one's dignity to deal with the son of an ignorant man!
And why should the reward for doing this be so very great? Because such a person truly loves HaKodosh Boruch Hu, thus Hashem loves him and fulfills his will, even to the extent of annulling decrees.
And why does such activity display extraordinary love of Hashem? The explanation can be found in the Chofetz Chaim's introduction to Chomas Hados, his work which deals with this subject. The Chofetz Chaim quotes the Sifrei and the Rambam who write that the mitzva of loving Hashem includes an obligation to go and draw others close to Torah. When you love someone, you want others to love him as well. If you truly love HaKodosh Boruch Hu, you will try and see that besides yourself, all His other sons also love him.
Thus we find that Rabbi Chiya travelled from town to town, learning Torah with the children. Consequently, when he and his sons stood up to pray and said the words, "Who makes the wind blow," the wind blew and when they said, "and the rain descend," it rained. Had Eliyahu Hanovi not been despatched to disturb them, the continuation of their prayers would have brought about the rising of the dead before the intended time.
This great level was not theirs simply on account of their greatness in Torah, but because they taught those children. Thus the reply was given to Resh Lakish, "You delved into Torah wisdom as much as he did but you didn't disseminate Torah to the extent that he did." We see that his lofty level—and perhaps all the Heavenly assistance he had with his learning—were his on this account alone (see Bava Metzia daf 85.)
A bochur who wishes to see Heavenly assistance in his learning should therefore make sure that even while he is young, he devotes part of his time to learning with his juniors. He should also occasionally go into the street looking for Jewish children whom he can bring close to Torah. In addition, he should nurture the ambition that when he leaves yeshiva and goes out into the world, whether as a rav, a man of influence or an ordinary householder, he will make every effort to become involved with bringing Jewish children back to Hashem.
He will then see Hashem's help immediately, even before he puts his plans into practice. If before, he would have had to devote hours towards understanding a difficult subject, the wellsprings of wisdom will open up for him and he will now arrive at the correct understanding straight away. This corresponds exactly to the custom of earthly rulers. When a mortal king is in need of a special service for a battle or some other purpose, unlimited resources will be poured into the training of even ordinary people so that they develop the necessary expertise.
