IN-DEPTH FEATURES
A Divine Prince in our Midst

A new forthcoming sefer, Rabbon Shel Kol Benei HaGola, will review the life story of Maran Rabbenu Chaim HaLevi of Brisk. Much of the material was previously unpublished. The compilers graciously agreed to allow us to publish a drop of their large sea about the life of Maran HaGrach Soloveitchik zt'l.

Reb Chaim did not grow up in a home in which they trained him to learn Torah. Indeed, we wouldn't say that R' Yoshe Ber taught his son to learn Torah and fear Heaven like we wouldn't say that he taught his son to breathe air. In this house, learning was like breathing, which one cannot exist without.

Even his bar mitzva speech was not a topic of conversation as it is in every other home. On the day of his bar mitzva, Reb Chaim learned maseches Zevochim for the first time in his life. As Reb Chaim later related about his first night as a grownup, "I learned the entire night without a break from the beginning of the masechta until the chapter of Kol Hatodir. I learned in depth and did not leave a single difficulty unexplained. I thought about everything there was to think about." In ten hours, the youth learned eighty-seven pages. This was not ordinary learning; it was that of Reb Chaim!

"But Say What I Want to be Said"

Reb Chaim did not prepare his bar mitzva speech in advance. Actually, he did not prepare it at all. When the guests gathered for the seudas mitzva, R' Yoshe Ber called over his son. Together they went into a quiet corner in one of the rooms of the house. Reb Yoshe was holding a Rambam. He opened the sefer, pointed to a certain halocho and told the boy, "You will speak about this Rambam. But say what I want to be said."

The boy thought a bit, turned it over in his head and went out to give his speech on what he was mechadesh right then. The speech was to his father's approval.

The speech discussed treif, an animal with a blemish like a hole in its lungs, and neveilo, an animal that died and was not shechted [both of which are forbidden to eat]. He said that the fact that a treif, which was shechted, is not tomei does not mean that the shechita made the animal altogether permitted and a new prohibition [of treif] makes the animal forbidden to eat. Rather, the shechita did not make the animal permitted to eat, but it just removed the tumah. And since its din is like a neveilo, it is essentially forbidden and is not like an external prohibition.

His speech proved that the prohibitions of treifo and neveilo are essentially one name. And he brought a number of proofs that astonished his audience. When he finished, R' Yoshe Ber did resist from citing the words of wisest of all men, "A wise son makes his father happy."

To Write Chiddushim like Father

According to his son Maran HaGriz zt'l, Reb Chaim was capable of writing chiddushim like one of the gedolim before he was even ten years old. The story goes as follows:

A certain rov came to R' Yoshe Ber in Slutzk after having been away in America for a number of years. He showed R' Yoshe Ber a pamphlet of comments he had written in America on R' Yoshe Ber's divrei Torah. The rov hoped that R' Yoshe Ber would show interest in his comments on his chiddushim and indeed the Rebbi asked to see the pamphlet. A quick review brought R' Yoshe Ber to a clear conclusion, "These divrei Torah did come from my mouth."

The rov insisted that he heard these words from R' Yoshe Ber. But R' Yoshe Ber reiterated, "I did not say these words."

R' Yoshe Ber's son Reb Chaim, who was almost eighteen, entered the room. A brief glance at the pamphlet brought a mischievous smile to his lips. "Chaim, are the chiddushei Torah mentioned in this pamphlet yours?" R' Yoshe Ber asked, understanding his son's smile.

Reb Chaim verified his father's words. Now the three of them knew on whose chiddushim the comments were written. But what were the chiddushim of Reb Chaim, a young adolescent who had not begun giving shiur in yeshiva, doing in distant America? A short explanation solved the mystery.

R' Yoshe Ber had lived in Volozhin, where he said shiur in the yeshiva. He used to put his "fresh" divrei Torah, the ones that had just been written, next to the oven to allow the wet ink to dry. Reb Chaim, who was a young boy, wanted to copy his father. He took a piece of paper, wrote his chiddushim on it, and put it out to dry next to the hot oven. Just then, in came one of R' Yoshe Ber's followers, who was planning to travel to America. He wanted to secretly take one of R' Yoshe Ber's handwritten chiddushim as a sweet remembrance of his honored rebbi. So, when no one was looking, he went to the oven and took one of the papers. He did not know that the paper in his pocket was written by a young boy.

The story was later told to Maran HaGriz zt'l who estimated how old Reb Chaim was when he wrote the words, "Father was then about nine or ten. Indeed, afterwards [when he was older] it did not enter his mind to copy his father."

"Chaim'ke, you were right!"

Meeting the Rogochover in Slutzk

In Slutzk, Reb Chaim first met the young Yosef Rosen, an outstanding genius who came to learn under his father. The boy later became famous as "the Rogochover."

He and Reb Chaim took different paths. This outstanding genius' stormy personality found expression in his stormy approach to learning, which was like a raging sea pulling its listeners through turbulent waters with innumerable quotes from all ends of the Bavli, Yerushalmi, Tosafos and Mechilta. Not much is known about a connection between the two gedolim even from their childhood. Reb Chaim was five years older than the Rogochover, who came to Slutzk when he was eleven. It could be that even then, their differences in learning were apparent. Reb Chaim, who was sixteen, probably already had his derech halimud firmly nailed in place.

Reb Chaim later spoke about his youth in Slutzk, while mentioning his friend the Rogochover. "In my youth," he related, "I was not considered a masmid. It was the Rogochover who was considered a masmid then; he was immersed in learning eighteen hours a day. I had two study sessions, each one six hours long. In each session, I learned eighteen dapim of gemora with Rashi, Tosafos, Riff, Rambam, Rosh, and Tur with Beis Yosef until Shulchon Oruch."

The First Half or the Second?

We have an eyewitness description of the first time the young genius from Rogochov crossed R' Yoshe Ber's threshold in Slutzk. This is his account:

Once, on Friday afternoon, the door opened and there stood a tall man with a long beard and thick payos leading a young, skinny boy with long, thin payos on his right. He brought him to the rov and said, "His honored, famous Slutzker Rov, I come from Rogochov. This is my young son, who has a name among the gedolim in Torah. I brought him to his honor and he should do with him what one must do with children like him."

R' Yoshe Ber shook the father's hand, approached the boy and asked him, "What's your name?"

"Yosef," the boy answered in a very small voice.

"What do you know in gemora? What did you learn?"

"I learned and I know half of Shas," the boy answered daringly.

"Which half?" the Rov asked.

"Whichever half his honor wants. To me they are one, the first half and the second," the boy replied.

The Rov stroked his head and said, "Look, there is a Beis HaLevi on this table. I'll show you a teshuva and you take it to the beis medrash and look into it. On motzei Shabbos come to me and we'll speak about this teshuva."

"What is the Rov eating now?" the boy asked lightly. "I see a piece of fish. By the time he finishes his fish, I'll be prepared to speak to him about the teshuva, so why should the Rov tell me to go and come back?"

The young Rogochover took the Beis HaLevi and looked at the teshuva. He locked his eyes on it, passed his finger over the entire teshuva and instantly asked two difficult questions on it. The Rov, who was extremely astonished at the boy's sharpness, turned to his father and said, "Hashem granted you a great gift. He is destined to become one of the gedolim in Yisroel and you must watch over him and educate him."

"And how old is he?" the Rov asked.

"Eleven, until one hundred and twenty," the father replied.

The Rov said to him, "Next Sunday, buy him tefillin, because he is a complete Yid."

And to me the Rov said, "Take him to shul and tell the shammash in my name that he should open the new box of seforim and let the youth pick any masechta of the new Vilna Shas, but he should not give him the Rambam's seforim."

I brought the boy to shul and as we were walking together, he requested two things. One, that if he wants to go out at night, I should accompany him because he was afraid to go out in the dark. And two, that I show him where the Ramban's seforim are kept. "But didn't the Rov command that you not be given a Rambam to learn; what business do you have with them?" I asked him.

He answered, "From his warning I understood that there are interesting things in them and therefore I want to see them immediately."

I brought him to shul. After about a half an hour, I saw him looking through the Rambam's seforim. This genius developed into the outstanding gaon Rav Yosef Rosen who later became famous as the Rogochover Gaon.

"They Told Me You Would Not Know the Answer"

Reb Yosef Rogochover was very careful to properly honor his rebbeim, R' Yoshe Ber and Reb Yehoshua Leib Diskin. Sometimes, however, due to becoming heated up in learning, he did not fully respect R' Yoshe Ber's honor. Reb Chaim, who was hurt over the embarrassment of his great father, decided to "teach him a lesson" in his own way.

He sent for a certain yungerman and told him to go to the Rogochover and ask the following question: Does the law of "if he lives one day or two" apply to an ox that gores a slave like it does to the master? [Meaning: if the master hits the slave and he survives for "a day or two" indicating that the blow did not kill him, then the master is not liable. The question is if this same limitation applies in a case that the master's ox gored the master's own slave.]

"I am telling you," Reb Chaim concluded his instructions, "that he will not know the answer."

The messenger did as he was told. He went to the young genius and asked the question, "Does an ox also have the law of `one or two days' or not?"

"This can be proven from the words of the Rambam," the Rogochover answered while quoting the Rambam in Hilchos Rotzei'ach: "It seems to me that one who hits his slave with a knife or sword, stone or fist or similar things, and they estimate [that the slave] will die and he dies, the din of `one day or two' does not apply. Even if [the slave] died after a year, [the master] is given the death penalty because of it. Therefore it says (Shemos 21:20) `with a stick' -- the Torah only gave [the master] permission to hit with a stick or strap or similar items, but not with a deathly strike."

"If so," the genius finished, "it is clear that the law of `one day or two' does not apply to an ox, because [it did not strike] with a `stick.' "

The messenger heard the answer and responded, "But they told me you would not know the answer."

The young genius sunk into thought. Perhaps he reviewed all of the laws of damage in his head. Suddenly he jumped and admitted that there was indeed a clear answer to the question and he had forgotten it. He remembered an explicit Mechilta on this topic. "True," he called, "there is an explicit limud of this law in Mechilta Mishpotim." He started to review the Mechilta, `Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai said, why does [the posuk have to] say this law? If it had not been said, I could have reasoned: since his [the master's] ox gets the death penalty for killing his own slave or maidservant and another's ox gets death penalty for killing his slave or maidservant. He [the master] gets death penalty for killing his own slave or maidservant and another [also] gets death penalty for killing his slave or maidservant. If you thus see that there is no difference between his [the master's] ox and someone else's ox in death penalty for [having killed] his slave or maidservant, [one might think] there is no difference between him [the master] and someone else for the death penalty for [having killed] his own slave or maidservant. [Therefore] the posuk says, `he will not be revenged because it is his property.' This teaches us that even though there is no difference between his ox and another's ox in the death penalty for [having killed] his slave or maidservant, nonetheless there is a difference between him and another in death penalty for [having killed] his slave or maidservant. That's why the posuk has to say `he will not be revenged because it is his property'".

[Editor's Note: R' Chaim's lesson to the Rogochover may have been to show him that his brilliance may distract him, by causing him to bring an indirect proof from a deduction even when an explicit answer was available.]

According to the Way of the Rishonim

When Maran HaGrach's children were ready to print their foreword for their father's sefer, they almost changed their minds about one passage. The quote that their great father's way of learning was according to the Rishonim pained them. Because they were not sure if it was true, they hesitated to print it. A remarkable tradition relates Reb Chaim's revelation in a dream to his friend and right-hand man, HaRav Simcha Zelig Riger, who was the dayan and leader in Brisk at Reb Chaim's side during his lifetime. Reb Chaim told Reb Simcha Zelig in that dream that now, when he was in the world of truth, the correctness of his shito was proven and the fact was that his chiddushim were according to the way our Rishonim taught us.

The Sefer was Written for Men on His Level

Rabbenu Chaim HaLevi's sefer of chiddushim on the Rambam was indeed a sefer that opened gates of light, one "whose expression was enlightening and waters pure," in the Grach's sons' words, but it is a difficult sefer. It words are not understandable from only a light reading, even to those who are used to the Brisker way of thinking. The Grach's son, Rav Moshe zt'l, once said that the sefer is difficult because his father wrote it for men on his level, and he cited the Or Somayach zt'l as an example. It is for such men, he said, that the sefer was written.

Maran HaGriz explained the difficulty in learning his father's sefer in another manner. This sefer, he said, is like a third floor without the first and second floor. On another occasion, Maran HaGriz related that a number of times he asked his father to add a few lines of explanation in some places to clarify a topic. The Brisker Rov contended that without a little additional explanation, the words would not be properly understood, but his father absolutely refused to add anything.

To Write the Essence of the Matter Only

HaRav Boruch Ber (who was a talmid of R' Chaim) pointed out a most interesting aspect of the nature of his rebbi's nusach. The question of whether to print R' Boruch Ber's shiurim arose. He, like his rebbi, gave special importance to the style of writing and nusach. Reb Boruch Ber wanted to find a yungerman who could transcribe his shiurim.

He asked his nephew, Reb Sholom Liebowitz, if he could recommend someone. Reb Sholom was surprised at the question. He had recently showed his uncle his notes on a shiur he heard from him. Reb Boruch Ber had praised them and commended the clear understanding apparent from the writing. What flaw did he find in it, then?

HaRav Boruch Ber, who understood his disciple's confusion, explained, "Only two of the geonim of the last generation had the unique ability to write the essence of the matter and not the explanation. They were the Ketzos HaChoshen and Rebbi. You, however, already explained and revealed everything." Reb Boruch Ber continued, "Their intention was clearly not to show off their learning. They wanted others to learn and think and about their seforim and grow through toil in Torah."

Once HaRav Aharon Kotler spoke: There are times that we learn Maran HaGrach's seforim and find things that are not to our taste, that are not comprehensible according to our understanding. It is then hard for us to grasp the words and they seem strange to us. But here we must learn a basic principle in the Grach's approach to learning. R' Chaim's way of learning was not to see things with our human logic, whether it is acceptable to us or not. R' Chaim mainly delved into the sugyos of the gemora to prove from it and in it what is the truth and what must be the truth from the sugya as it is written.

Therefore, if R' Chaim's deep learning and broad mind found that what he said is proven, and its basis clearly stated in the gemora, then that is the halocho and that is emes. From thereon, it is irrelevant if the words are acceptable to our human logic or not.

HaRav Yechezkel Abramsky, however, explained the comments and questions of our generation's chachomim, who sometimes had difficulties with the Grach's sefer on the Rambam. "They question it because they didn't know him," he said emphatically. "But those who merited knowing him knew that when R' Chaim finished speaking about his chiddushim, many disciples surrounded him, including those who were later known as the generation's geonim and leaders. Every one of them used to have questions on what he said, according to his own understanding and taste, but R' Chaim used to answer their questions and resolve the issues betuv ta'am."

Some of the Grach's disciples felt that one must not come to speak to the Grach without advance preparation. A reliable source relates what he heard from two of the generation's giants, HaRav Leizer Yudel Finkel zt'l and HaRav Yechezkel Abramsky zt'l. The two of them used to go into R' Chaim together to question his words, to refute a principle he was mechadesh or dispute a proof he cited.

They did not go into their rebbi as soon as the question arose. Together, they spent a long time preparing before going in to R' Chaim. Sometimes, they used to learn the whole night, perfecting their words, asking if the question or comment applies here or if it is an imaginary question. They equipped themselves with every possible gemora that could hint to their words, building a well fortified "fortress" around R' Chaim's approach, until it seemed to them that they sealed off all avenues of "escape." These two, it is worthwhile to remember, were Reb Leizer Yudel, who knew the paths of the gemora as clearly as the streets of Mir, and Reb Chatzkel, the great amkan who, with his clear way of explanation, faithfully interpreted his great rebbi's way of learning.

Thus, when their words were prepared and organized, they went into R' Chaim. But when R' Chaim opened his mouth, so they related, everything became clear. The questions fell aside as if they never were and the mountains they prepared were leveled. They could not budge the wall of his words. Like a paragraph in Rashbo.

And so, the close disciples of the Grach, for whom every breath and tip of a yud that left the Grach's table became their life's breath and heart's blood, were scared to approach the kodesh.

On another occasion, R' Boruch Ber gave a shiur to his disciples on how to relate to the Grach's sefer. He was discussing a deep paragraph of the Grach and one of his disciples asked permission to say an answer to a difficulty on the rebbi's words. R' Boruch Ber rebuked the disciple and said, "No. If you don't understand them today, you'll understand tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the next day."

You'll say an answer for the rebbi's words? Instead review them over and over again and try to understand them. He added, "Review the words over and over again until you understand them. In another year or in ten years, don't tell me a `pshat' on the rebbi's words."

Gilyonos HaChazon Ish

An entire kuntrus of disagreements on the Grach's chiddushim were inscribed by the pen of last generation's glory, the Chazon Ish zt'l. When Gilyonos HaChazon Ish was published, HaRav Abramsky spoke to one of his disciples in Yeshivas Slobodke, "These are two different ways, separate ways, to learning Torah."

He explained, "The Torah was given from Sinai to learn it in different ways. One approach is not like the other. There are questions that when we learn one way are indeed questions, but when we take the other approach are not questions. And so too the opposite." He did not cite examples.

Prince of Hashem of the Last Generations

HaRav Abramsky as well taught his disciples a lesson in a student's admiration of his rebbi. He taught that even the greatest respect possible must not impede the student's ability to think. In one of his shiurim on maseches Shabbos, he mentioned his great rebbi's words -- one of the few acharonim mentioned in shiur -- but he built a wall of questions around them. They were difficult questions. When he finished speaking, R' Chatzkel added in a wondering tone, "I don't understand what R' Chaim wants."

The shiur ended and the campaign of the mighty was silent. Reb Chatzkel hinted to the yeshiva students to come closer; due to his weakness, he gave shiur sitting on a chair at a table. His disciples surrounded the table and R' Chatzkel began.

He told them about a difficult question mentioned in Chiddushei HaRamo, which was brought to the Ramo, the foremost Ashkenazi poseik. Due to the she'eilo's complexity, he sent it to Tzfas, to the Beis Yosef, who was recognized by everyone as the godol hador and the generation's leader. Maran the Beis Yosef wrote his answer in which he clarified the din and instructed how to act.

The Ramo's teshuva shows us the great honor that the Ramo gave to R' Yosef Karo's psak. Based on it, he called to the litigants, showed them the ruling of the one he considered the godol hador, and told them to act according to the psak he received. Immediately afterwards, however, he sat down and wrote a long answer, refuting the Beis Yosef's psak. At the opening of the letter, he mentioned the "great gaon Morenu Verabbeinu Yosef Karo, whom we drink his waters from his pitcher, . . . " In the text of the letter, he gives him the title "divine prince in our midst."

The Ramo was not satisfied until he wrote ". . . cholila to rebel against the words of his honor's exalted Torah, and anyone who disagrees with it is as if he disagrees with the Shechina." The Ramo related that due to this recognition, we must indeed act like the Beis Yosef, but he immediately added the following words: "But the response words are Torah and I must learn them." The Ramo taught us that indeed it is a "divine prince" on one hand, but "I must learn" on the other.

R' Chatzkel paused. His face showed signs of emotion. "R' Chaim of Brisk," he concluded tremulously, "was the divine prince of the last generations. His Torah was definitely Toras emes, but it is Torah and I have to learn it," he concluded apologetically. This talk left an indelible impression on the disciples.

The basis of the Chazon Ish's decision to publish his disagreements on the Grach seems to stem from the same principle. The fear that an exaggerated admiration of R' Chaim, an admiration that could put his chiddushim and principles above all human logic, had to be addressed by publishing a critique. The Chazon Ish wanted to teach us that even if the admiration of the divine prince of the later generations has its place, this admiration must not turn into a Heavenly mountain, whom all fear to go up or touch its edges. If there was a fifth level of creatures, like R' Chaim Ozer sharply commented, there would be a fear that someone would give R' Chaim supernatural characteristics, cholila. Even his son, Maran HaGriz, once said that one must not say his father was like one of the rishonim, as some said about him. On the other hand this attempt, even if it was not true, can teach us about R' Chaim's greatness.

The Dayan Only Has What His Eyes See

The leader of this generation, Maran HaRav Shach shlita, who was a close disciple of Maran HaGriz zt'l, also implanted this recognition in his students. Even then, Rav Shach was considered a trustworthy member of the Griz's circle and one of the foremost veteran Brisker disciples, who delved a bit more deeply than others with his deep understanding of the various Brisker approaches. He learned much from Maran HaGriz and held many conversations with him. Even then, he was known as one of the great personalities of the Brisker school of thought and he molded his many disciples in this method. But the fact that he was a faithful student of R' Chaim's disciples did not prevent him from carefully scrutinizing his words, which he told his students.

He once related that when he asked Maran HaGriz questions on what was said in Chiddushei Rabbenu Chaim HaLevi al HaRambam, the Griz used to think about the question seriously and then solve it, "I am sure that if Father were alive, he would answer all the questions."

"Indeed," Maran HaRav Shach reacted in front of his students, "these are the words. For what do we know that R' Chaim didn't? However, a dayan only has what his eyes see."

"If Not -- I'll Write the Opposite"

On another occasion, Maran the Rosh Yeshiva shlita spoke about a difficult question he had asked the Griz about R' Chaim's words. The question was straight from a gemora and they could find no way to solve it. "I remember," Reb Velvele responded to the question, "that when Father wrote this chiddush, this gemora was open in front of him," referring to the gemora from which HaRav Shach asked the question.

According to HaRav Shach's students, Maran HaGriz first tried to solve the question. When he was unable, the Griz said, "I don't have an answer, but I can tell you a story pertaining to the matter. I remember that when Father put this chiddush onto paper, I was also in the house. In the middle of writing, Father called me and asked to bring him this gemora. He opened it to this very page, the site of your question, looked at it for a few minutes, closed the gemora and continued writing."

The Griz looked at those sitting in front of him as if he wanted to say, "Father saw the gemora, thought of the question and nevertheless wrote what he did."

But Maran the Rosh Hayeshiva replied, "If you have an answer, good. If not, I'll write the opposite." HaRav Shach did not flinch.

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