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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
Chapter Twenty-Two: Master and Father of the Entire
Diaspora
The Father of the Ohr HaChaim Students
Maran HaGaon R' Shach ztvk'l was the acknowledged
father and spiritual patron of the girls studying in Ohr
HaChaim. These were girls who generally did not have anyone
to whom to turn with their problems. Maran was like a
merciful father to them, and they would allow themselves to
approach him with every question.
The administration, however, reached the conclusion that one
could not impose upon Maran to such a great extent. And so,
orders were issued that the girls could not have carte
blanche to go to the Rosh Yeshiva whenever they wished
without first getting permission from the principal.
Maran felt very quickly that the students had stopped coming
and inquired as to the reason behind it. His family told him
that the administration had decided to curtail the visits,
allowing these only with special permission from the
principal.
Maran asked that this new directive be abolished, and that
any girl who felt the need to ask a question should be
allowed to come with her problem, without any limitation
whatsoever.
One Among a Thousand
One particular student, whose parents were dissatisfied with
the seminary and wished to remove her, came crying to Maran
for help. She well knew that once she left Ohr HaChaim, she
would eventually lose all of her gains in Yiddishkeit,
all her yiras Shomayim, all the progress she had
made in spiritual areas.
Maran calmed her and said reassuringly, "Don't worry. You
will not have to leave Ohr HaChaim." He asked the parents to
come to him and he spoke to them. They finally understood how
important was the education she was getting in Ohr HaChaim
and agreed to let her remain. Maran summoned the girl and
informed her personally that he had been successful in
receiving their permission.
This girl was one among thousands, yet Maran the Rosh Yeshiva
devoted his precious time for her cause; he summoned the
parents, coaxed them, influenced and finally, even made sure
to tell the girl personally that he had succeeded. This is
extraordinary devotion, the extent of which is difficult to
fathom. The only explanation for it is that by Maran, every
girl was like his only child.
His Advice: It's Not Worthwhile
Complaining
A young girl came to Maran and said that she had grievances
against her teacher. Apparently, she understood that he was
the address for her gripes, since he was willing to listen to
everyone's troubles. She poured out her heart to him and said
she felt her teacher was persecuting her unjustifiably.
All of us are familiar with this type of complaining and
grumbling; it is commonplace for students to find fault with
their teachers. Maran listened and said quickly, "First of
all, one must hear both sides of the story. I cannot listen
to just one side; I have to hear you together with the
teacher.
"But in addition, I want to tell you something: you are a
young girl and you will have to get married, build a house,
raise children and establish future generations. Your trait
of complaining is a very negative one; it will present
obstacles in the course of your life. One must not complain
and not look for faults in someone else. Rather, try to think
of all the favors and good turns that this teacher does for
you, as well as the whole school, the administration, the
teachers who are at your service, there to help you, as if,
`for me was the world created.' Look at this side and then
you will know later how to look at your husband and how to
look at your children . . . "
To be sure, she never returned with her teacher. She told her
teacher and her friends that Maran had illuminated her entire
life. He had opened up her mind, her heart; he had
transformed her into a happy person, because after his words,
she actually stopped complaining and finding fault with
others. Maran had devoted a great deal of his precious time
to her, because a father does not spare his time when it
comes to educating his daughter.
Maran's Dedication in Checking out
Shidduchim
An orphan studying in Ohr HaChaim came to ask Maran's advice
regarding a certain shidduch that had been suggested
to her. Maran promised to inquire about the young man for
her.
If the reader thinks that all Maran did was call up his rosh
yeshiva to get the needed information — he is sorely
mistaken. Maran traveled all the way to Jerusalem to meet
personally with the rosh yeshiva, HaRav Peretz. The latter
was very surprised that Maran had gone to all this trouble
when he could have gotten the information via the
telephone.
Maran explained, "If it was my daughter, I would surely not
suffice with a mere phone call to get a complete picture. One
has to sit face to face with the person conveying the
information in order to get the full impression and to
clarify the subject through and through. You should know that
I consider an orphan student from Ohr HaChaim like my very
own daughter."
And this is exactly how it was when one of my own sons went
to seek Maran's advice regarding a shidduch. Maran
told him to come back in a few days for an answer. When my
son returned, the answer was very positive. We later found
out that in the interim, Maran had made extensive inquiries
about the girl in question, and truly investigated the matter
very meticulously — in fact, probably more thoroughly
than we had, ourselves! And only after receiving a good and
well- researched report did he give his approval.
Had I not known what I have previously stated, I might have
thought that my son received preferential treatment because
of my relationship to Maran. But it turned that it was not
preferential at all; this was Maran's way, his approach, to
relate to every individual as an only son, whether he knew
him well or not at all.
Attention (T.L.C.) — That's What She Was
Missing
A young girl who had recently emigrated from the Soviet Union
together with her family enrolled in Bais Yaakov. In the
course of the lessons, she asked all kinds of heretical
questions until one day, the principal decided that he had
had enough: this girl had to be expelled from school.
My wife, who had taken Russian immigrants under her wing,
told the principal that before taking such a drastic step as
expelling a student from Bais Yaakov, which was virtually
throwing her out into the street, one had to consult with
Maran. Maran agreed to give them an appointment and he and my
wife went to discuss the matter.
The principal presented his side of the problem, and even
went into detail with examples of the questions she had been
asking in class. Maran said, "Naarishkeit! Nonsense!
All this girl wants is some attention. Tell the teacher to
devote some extra attention to her and you'll see that she
will stop asking such questions."
The principal did as he had advised and told the teachers to
give her some positive attention. How right Maran had been in
his assessment! The student soon stopped asking such
questions and became one of the top students in every sense,
even in yiras Shomayim. She went on to marry a
talmid chochom and established an outstanding home.
A Pampered Person is a Poor Shidduch
Candidate
A young student went to Maran to seek advice concerning a
certain shidduch. Everything seemed all right except
for one drawback: one of the children in the girl's family
was afflicted with a disease.
Maran said: "The illness is not hereditary. In this case, I
maintain that it is an advantage, since the girl in question,
as well as her entire family, are devoted to the sick child
and they help out all the time. This assures you that the
girl is not spoiled. In fact, it is a definite benefit in a
shidduch!"
The young man continued to ask, "Might we not think that the
sick child become a burden on the young couple; they might be
called upon to help out, too."
Maran replied, "You must be happy at this opportunity to do
chessed."
In this case, too, it later became clear that before Maran
gave a positive answer to this suggestion, he looked into the
family thoroughly and then said to the candidate, "You should
know to appreciate that in this family, never is there any
shouting heard!"
Excessive Tzidkus and Modesty are not
Disadvantages
Someone in my family once inquired by Maran about a certain
shidduch, since the girl in question was said to be
farfrumt (over-pious). Maran said, "And so what? Is
this a drawback? What is frum? It means she has a
great measure of yiras Shomayim. There is nothing
wrong with that."
The young man continued to press. "Perhaps there is some
disadvantage, after all?"
Maran remained adamant. "The shortcoming of over-piety is
only until the wedding. Afterwards it passes, and all that
remains is the pure yiras Shomayim. That being the
case, you have nothing to fear."
The young man brought up the fact that she did not want to be
seen together in public, seeing this as lacking in modesty.
Maran enthused, "You are a lucky young man to be matched up
with such a girl. She is altogether superlative and you have
nothing to worry about whatsoever!"
How Can One Withstand the Tears of a Jewish
Daughter?
One kallah asked Maran to officiate at her wedding.
She had no connection to him at all, but pleaded with all her
might that he be her mesader kiddushin.
"But that is impossible," Maran explained. "Your wedding is
on the day when I prepare for my weekly shiur in
yeshiva."
Upon hearing his refusal, she burst into tears. When Maran
saw this, he turned to her and said, "Don't cry. I agree to
be your mesader kiddushin. All I ask is that the
chuppah take place at the exact designated hour so
that I will not waste any unnecessary time."
Maran's family was most surprised and asked why he had
capitulated, when he did not even know the kallah. We
have already stated in previous chapters how important was
the day that he prepared for his weekly shiur. But
Maran explained, "How can one hold out against the tears of a
Jewish daughter? Those tears are decisive, and I had to take
them into account, as if she were my very own daughter."
`Abba' is Mesader Kiddushin
Maran participated in the wedding of his talmid who
married the daughter of R' Shalom Schwadron zt'l. When
he spied Maran HaRav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach zt'l, the
kalla's uncle, he approached him and said, "You are
the uncle. You must officiate at the marriage."
R' Shlomo Zalman's pleading was of no avail until R' Shlomo
Zalman said, "I really am the uncle, but you are the
`father.' "
When Maran heard these words, he agreed to be mesader
kiddushin.
"Even During the Times that I am Very Busy, My
Door is Always Open"
Upon some occasion, I asked Maran: "People approach me with
many requests and I am very busy as a result. I have no time.
I am not talking about time to rest but time to learn and
study. In addition, I am sometimes left without any time to
prepare my speeches and to put together the material I must
present to the Knesset. (I was the head of the Knesset
Finance Committee and this position required a great deal of
preparatory background material and knowledge; I had to keep
abreast and informed of many things.)
"People come: one person and then another, and they rob me of
the little time I need so desperately. And in addition, many
of the appeals that come my way have nothing to do with a
public representative. Some of the questions should be
addressed to a lawyer or to regular askonim and not to
a Member of Knesset. My question is if I can tell my family
to put them off, to tell people that I am not available at
the moment so that I can get things done."
After hearing my question, Maran thought for a long time, and
then, in his characteristic humility, replied, "I cannot
really answer for you. But I would like to tell you what I
do. I am also busy. I must prepare shiurim; I have to
learn, and I am very deeply pained when I begin learning,
sink my teeth into a sugya, concentrate upon it, and
then I am interrupted. But I stop, nonetheless. If someone
comes to discuss a question or problem, I stop . . .
"You argue that there are some things that are altogether not
in your realm. Well, I can say the same for myself,"
confessed Maran. "Many things come before me that are very
removed from me. Let me tell you a story by way of
example:
"Last night, a woman came to me and said, `Rebbe, I want you
to teach me in one quick lesson the attribute of simple
faith.' I was very surprised. Whatever does that have to do
with me? That I should teach a woman something about
emunah? Well, I gave her an elementary lesson on what
it entailed, she thanked me and then left.
"After about fifteen minutes, she came back and said, `Rebbe,
I am afraid that I may forget what you taught me so I brought
a notebook and pencil so that you could write it down for me.
This way, if I happen to forget, I can look it up in the
notebook.'
Maran continued, "So I took the notebook and wrote down what
I had taught her about emunah peshutoh. A quarter of
an hour passed and she was back. `I am afraid that I cannot
make out some of the letters you wrote. Please go over them
so that it is very legible and clear.' I did so. But the
woman kept on coming back again and again, each time with a
different request, and each time, I did as she asked.
"Why did I go to all that trouble?" Maran asked rhetorically.
"Because I saw she was a nervous, high-strung person. By
complying with her requests, I was able to soothe and calm
her nerves. Another thing, I thought that by doing so, I was
doing her husband a favor, too.
"And that is what I always do," Maran concluded, "even in
matters that do not apply to me, and even if I am pressed for
time. But I do it. By you, however, the question is much more
serious and difficult . . . You are a public representative,
a shaliach tzibbur. I imagine that the disturbances
you get are much more numerous than mine, and therefore, I am
not in a position to decide and rule for you."
His very words provided me with a clear answer. I was ashamed
of myself, thoroughly so. I made a kal vochomer, an
inference from the greater to the lesser. If Maran, who was
the godol hador, and whose every moment was more vital
and sacred than many hours of any other person, showed such
devotion and selflessness towards others, verily like a
father to an only child, how much more so . . . And so I
have tried to conduct myself accordingly.
What `business' was it of Maran's to teach a woman simple
faith? She could learn it from a seminary teacher. But as we
have already said, this is how a father relates to a
daughter. One does not refuse the request of a child, a
daughter. And by Maran, everyone was like a son or
daughter.
I have visited many a home of great figures, but acts such as
this, inexhaustible commitment to each and every single
person, the fuss and bother over every individual, or as
Maran, himself, put it, "A father doesn't send his son
alone," — I saw only by Maran.
Love of Chessed is a Subject One Must Study
Thoroughly
Maran was immersed body and soul in Torah study. This was his
whole world, while all the petty particulars of everyday
physical life played no role in his hierarchy of priorities.
But when the benefit of a fellow Jew was in question,
everything was different. Here he would descend to the
smallest details and dig and delve as if it were a difficult
sugya in Bovo Kama.
A family moved from Jerusalem to Bnei Brak, settling in
Maran's neighborhood. Maran came knocking on their door in
person to inform them of certain pieces of information which
they might not be aware of, relating to their new location.
Fresh chickens, for example, could not be obtained on Friday,
he told them, so that they should know to buy them on
Wednesday or Thursday (Orchos Habayis).
Master and Father of Diaspora Jewry
Maran HaRav Isser Zalman Meltzer ztvk'l commented on
the teaching, "One who established students in his youth,
should also establish students in his old age," as follows:
Chazal wish to say that we should not presume that old men
cannot teach, even though we find that an old man is not
appointed to the Sanhedrin because he lacks mercy [perhaps,
patience]. A master who teaches Torah needs to have the
attribute of mercy as well. What Chazal wished to teach here
was that a teacher who instructs his students is also
merciful, even in his old age.
We saw and felt this in the full by Maran. Whoever talked to
him got the feeling that he was not speaking to the master of
the entire diaspora (rosh kol hagoloh), but also to
the father of the entire diaspora. Furthermore, he conveyed
the feeling to whomever he spoke that he was his only son.
One could speak to the leader of all Jewry and still feel
that he was talking to his father.
This is usually self-exclusive, a contradiction, but by Maran
it was not an inconsistency at all. One who is great in Torah
and truly perfect in all of his ways and traits can, indeed,
serve as both a master-teacher-rabbi and as a father
simultaneously.
In my opinion, in addition to the title of Rashkebahag
— Rabbon Shel Kol Bnei Hagolah, he could equally
have been called Ashkebehag — Avihem Shel Kol Bnei
Hagolah.
Advice Coupled with Cheshbon Hanefesh
Thousands and ten thousands benefited from Maran's advice and
wise counsel. Many times however, his beneficiaries did not
fully assess and appreciate the tremendous effort which Maran
invested in every piece of guidance that he dispensed. The
following tale, in which he withheld his advice, highlights
this immense input.
One time, people came to ask Maran's advice in a certain
matter but Maran refrained from expressing an opinion. When
they pleaded with him, he said, "What can I do? I cannot give
any advice in this matter."
His family was very surprised since this was very unusual for
Maran but he explained, "With every piece of advice, I first
make a personal reckoning if I will be able to justify myself
in the World to Come. When the time comes for me to stand up
and be accountable for what I said, will I be able to do so?
In this particular instance, I wasn't sure that I would be
able to justify my advice in the next world, so I felt it
were better if I remained silent."
We will conclude with the words of Rabbenu Yonah in
Shaarei Teshuvah (Shaar Shlishi, os 13) which Maran
was wont to repeat often, "For a person must toil . . . and
be diligent in working on himself with regards to his
relation to his fellow man. And this is one of the most
stringent, and the most basic things demanded of a person, as
it is written, `He has told you, man, what is good and what
Hashem requires of you, but to do justly and to love kindness
and to walk humbly with your G-d.' " (Michah 6:8)
I once noticed that Maran had overexerted himself beyond his
strength and as a result, had become weakened. I asked how he
felt and he admitted that he had taxed himself too much. I
knew that Maran would never go to a hotel or vacation spot,
and so, I suggested instead that he come to me to rest up for
a few days until he felt better. This way, he would be
removed from the public and all of its demands upon him.
At that time, Bnei Brak was not as built up as it is now, and
our house on Rechov Hashomer was isolated from the rest of
the city. I told him that my wife heartily extended the
invitation as well and would be honored if he came.
Maran replied, "I must not sever myself from the public. I
cannot allow that someone in need will not find me
accessible. You want to seclude me so that no one know where
I am, but I must remain in my house in order to help anyone
in need, despite my own frailty."
It is known that all Torah leaders were accustomed to
traveling to a resort spot for vacation, but Maran felt that
it was his duty to answer to the needs of the public at all
times. "Who knows?" he said once. "Perhaps behind the door
there may stand someone with a broken heart. How can I
disappoint him?"
This is exceptional conduct. Truly, common folk such as we
cannot begin to reach such a level. But I was, at least, able
to learn — to a degree which I never dreamed of —
from his words and deeds, and to recognize for what to
strive: to desire to help everyone and to be dedicated and
attuned to people's needs.
HaRav Yechezkel Eschayek served Maran for many years with a
devotion that defies description. Maran's affection and
esteem for him was, accordingly, exceptional, just like a
father-son relationship. And yet, Maran did not dance at the
wedding of R' Yechezkel's son.
Why not? Maran was asked, when he did dance by the weddings
of his students, especially when it was known how he favored
R' Yechezkel.
Maran replied that one of his students had told him that day
the bitter news that the doctors diagnosed that he would
never be able to sire any children. Maran was so distressed
by this information that he found it impossible to rejoice
fully, and could not bring himself to dance.
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