Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda Leib Eliezerov - The Rabbi of Chevron - Rabbi Yaakov Eliezerov shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast of Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 The community in Hebron went back to the time of the... the Mitteler Rebbe. He wanted to establish an Ashkenazi community in Hebron. There were a few Sephardi families there then, but almost no Ashkenazi community. So he asked everyone who had come to Eretz Yisroel—there had already been an influx in the Alter Rebbe’s time—and settled in Tzfas to move to Hebron. The Mitteler Rebbe sent them a letter asking everyone who had gone to Tzfas to move there. He wrote, “Not a single soul should remain,” meaning no one should stay behind. After all, it meant uprooting themselves and moving to those places. He said it was the place of the Patriarchs and that the Jewish community there needed to be strengthened. His daughter Menucha Rochel had already arrived there; she was our grandmother. And my grandfather, Reb Shloime Leib, still knew her. There are also letters she wrote to him after his marriage. So, my father was born in Hebron. My grandfather was born in Hebron. My great-grandfather, Reb Shloime Leib, was the rabbi of Hebron. He had come there as a child of ten, but his grandmother, Menucha Rochel, was already there [unclear]. He was born there and studied there until he was six. By the time he was six, his grandfather—the rabbi, his great-grandfather, Reb Eliezer Shimon—was there. Reb Eliezer Shimon was one of the great chassidim of the Tzemach Tzedek. He had been with the Tzemach Tzedek and was also a sofer. And... when he was six, the First World War broke out, and his parents were Russian subjects. They had to flee because the Turks deported all the Russian subjects, exiling them to Turkey. Many died on the way, and they suffered persecution and torment and all that. So they fled to Egypt, but they

02:37 Speaker 2 had to escape under cover of darkness and left the children with a relative, who later took them to Jaffa. They traveled through the night, starting at four in the morning, by donkey from Hebron—or from Jerusalem; he was brought to a relative in Jerusalem—from Hebron to Jaffa. They arrived at midnight, he and his younger sister. There was an Arab who guided them, and a relative joined him. Later they were also smuggled out by ship, from Jaffa to Egypt. He spent five years in Egypt, throughout the First World War. There were other Jews there too, Russian subjects who had come there. Rabbi Yitzchak Naeh was there as well. He taught him then, because there was no organized schooling there. Rabbi Yitzchak Naeh was a relative: the Naeh family and... Mendel Naeh and Reb Shloime Leib were brothers-in-law. Both were sons-in-law of Reb Dovid Ber of Kalisk. Reb Dovid Ber of Kalisk was a chozer for the Tzemach Tzedek. He knew six hundred maamarim by heart. When the Tzemach Tzedek delivered a maamar, even if the Tzemach Tzedek sighed in the middle, he could repeat it at that very point, reproducing the account of what the Tzemach Tzedek had said. It was engraved in his memory. In other words, he was a Torah scholar, a great genius. And the Tzemach Tzedek had him study with the Rebbe Maharash when he himself was already a somewhat older married man. The Rebbe Maharash was a young man of seventeen or eighteen. They studied nigleh together as study partners. In other words, he was already... the Rebbe Maharash was still young and he was older, but in nigleh and Chassidus the Rebbe Maharash had already risen, risen above him. Yet he was a greater Torah scholar than the Rebbe Maharash. They studied in a room. The Tzemach Tzedek

05:05 Speaker 2 was in the next room, and there was a small window between the two rooms. Sometimes, when they encountered a difficulty in their study of nigleh or Chassidus, they would go over to the little window. The Tzemach Tzedek would see that they wanted to ask him something, come over, and they would put their question to him. He would answer them on the spot, close the window, and they would go on studying. That was how it was then. Reb Dovid Ber of Kalisk later came to Eretz Yisroel. There’s a whole story about a passage in Gittin: he quoted from memory the entire passage he needed. In any event, Reb Dovid Ber of Kalisk passed away in 5668. [unclear], yes. You can see this in the eulogy my grandfather, Reb Shloime Leib, delivered for him in 5668. It appears there, and he also mentions him in the book Shila Shleimi. Then, in the next generation, there was Reb Shloime Leib. Shloime Leib was born there in Hebron and studied under Reb Shimon... No, he wasn’t born there. He came as a child; he was born in Jakobstadt, a town in... wait, in Latvia. Yes, in Latvia. He was born in that same town too. They already knew each other there. But he came here to Eretz Yisroel with his parents as a child, in 5633. In 5633, and then he studied in Hebron. He studied under Reb Shimon Menashe. Reb Shimon Menashe had still been with the Rebbe as a child, from the Alter Rebbe’s time... He studied under Reb Shimon Menashe, and later also under Reb Eliyahu Mani, who was there too. He was a great Kabbalist and a great Torah genius as well. He also wrote something connected to a work by Reb Eliyahu Mani. What was that book

07:24 Speaker 2 called?

07:25 Speaker 3 Zichronos Eliyahu.

07:26 Speaker 2 Zichronos Eliyahu. He received it, and later they completed it. But he was one of his students. He also received semicha from Reb Eliyahu Mani. He was a great Kabbalist and a tzaddik, a tremendous tzaddik. So he studied with him and with... he also studied with Reb Shimon Menashe. They were his teachers. Afterward, as he grew older, he developed mainly in Torah learning. Later, the Rebbe Rashab sent him from there to Bukhara.

08:07 Speaker 3 They hadn’t found a position for him.

08:08 Speaker 2 To raise funds for the kollelim there—the Sephardi kollel in Hebron, and in Jerusalem as well. From there he arrived in Bukhara. At that time, Bukhara was in a poor spiritual state, because there were no yeshivos and hardly any rabbis. There were a few individuals, the Rabin family, which had several generations of rabbis there, but in many areas Jewish life was very weak. He also arranged for proper kosher shechita, because not all the shochtim there were well versed in the laws, and there wasn’t adequate supervision. He trained shochtim so they would know shechita thoroughly, put the mikvaos in order, and arranged for children to be taught. He really did what today we would call shlichus. But he wasn’t there as a... he wasn’t a shliach. Many people quote him as though he was a shliach of the Rebbe Rashab, but in fact the Rebbe Rashab did not send him. He was sent there for this purpose, but the Rebbe Rashab always encouraged him in his activities and his teaching, even though he faced severe persecution there from the

09:40 Speaker 3 veteran shochtim.

09:41 Speaker 2 The veteran shochtim, whose work was not up to standard. He disqualified their shechita, and they persecuted him and informed on him to the emir, the ruler of Bukhara, the head of... the head of its government, or president of the Bukharans. They said a stranger had come and wanted to make changes, and so on, and that it was against the government. So the emir asked that he be brought before him. He wanted to question him and speak with him about what he was doing there. But as soon as he entered, the emir was moved by his bearing, by his appearance. You could see the holiness about him—even that non-Jew could see it. So he rose to greet him, shook his hand, kissed him, and said, “Now that I’ve seen you, I’ll have all those informers brought in and punished.” He said, “No, don’t punish anyone. No, no. Just tell them to listen to the rabbi—to the rulings, the laws, and the guidance he gives them about what to do.” And then things did quiet down somewhat, though there was also an attempt to poison him. He survived that too. He noticed that the soup he’d been served was a slightly different color, so he didn’t want to eat it. He said to bring a dog; they gave it a few spoonfuls, and the dog died on the spot. When people saw that, he became something of a baal shem among the Bukharans, as they called him. They believed in him and gave him their full... And there really was a great change throughout the Bukharan communities. He also dealt extensively there with the laws of Even Ha’ezer concerning women—kiddushin, gittin, and chalitza—which had been badly neglected. All these matters had been handled by people who weren’t qualified, to the point that

12:15 Speaker 2 He qualified them according to halachah so they could deal with these matters, so that— To this day, Rabbi Levi Leviev said on one occasion that his whole family held strong because of Reb Shleime, Reb Shleime Leib. He was the one who instilled in them and rooted in them that warmth for Judaism, for Yiddishkeit. They were all united with him; they followed him. He said that all those who followed him were the ones whose families also remained strong during the Communist period. In 5681, he had to flee because someone had informed on him to the Communists. They were looking for him, and he had to be smuggled out. He hid in cellars there. He and two others whom the Communists were looking for had to flee at midnight, after the Communists entered Samarkand. They traveled by night until they reached Afghanistan. Eventually they reached Bombay, India. During the months they traveled with caravans, there was also an incident at one of the places where a caravan stopped to rest. Meanwhile, he got down from his donkey or horse to daven Minchah. There was a mountain nearby, a high mountain behind him, so he could concentrate on his davening. He spent a little longer davening, and the caravan moved on. When he finished Minchah, he went back to look for it. There was no sign of anyone. He was alone in the desert. It was dangerous to be left alone there, whether because of robbers or wild animals or— It really was a dangerous situation. And it was a kind of [unclear]. Suddenly he saw someone riding toward him on a horse from far away. It was one of the caravan members. They had noticed he was missing, and the caravan leader sent this man to look for him. He found him and took him

14:56 Speaker 2 onto the horse and brought him back to the caravan. From there they reached Bombay, India. They took a ship from India to Egypt, and from Egypt he came back here, to Eretz Yisroel. His family name was Gazronovsky. His father was called Reb Eliezer Shimon Gazronovsky. When he arrived in Bukhara, he changed it to Eliezerov, because Eliezerov means “son of Eliezer.” Since his father was Reb Eliezer Shimon, the name was “son of Eliezer,” so he called himself Eliezerov. Though there he spelled it with a reish, alef, vav, vav, something like that—probably a more Russian form. Before him, Rabbi Dov Leib Efrat served as rabbi for a short time. After Rabbi Dov Leib left, they appointed him—the Tzemach Tzedek, then [unclear]—and the Rebbe Rashab asked that he be appointed rabbi of Hebron. He did serve as rabbi there and issue halachic rulings. In that capacity he sat together with the Rebbe Rashab and the Frierdiker Rebbe. He writes that the three of them sat that night for almost four hours, planning how to proceed. Then the Rebbe Rashab said he would send some students. That was Rabbi Zalman Havlin, with about four other bochurim. That was all who arrived at the time. Still, they gave the community in Hebron some strength, because the settlement there had dwindled somewhat. So Toras Emes was established. He himself said that, in fact, he was the one who founded it; he initiated it, and he brought him in to strengthen the yeshiva somewhat. That is what happened. The Rebbe Rashab also wrote various letters about him, which appear in Hamashpia, saying, on the contrary, that Reb Shleime Leib was a man of trust. He also acquired Beit Romano. He and who else acquired Beit Romano

17:06 Speaker 2 then? Together with Reb Mendel Naeh. Yes. Yes. They acquired Beit Romano for the Rebbe Rashab, because the Rebbe Rashab said that someone who has a parcel of land in Hebron has... a burial plot. A burial plot. He did it, though it involved many difficulties. There were several middlemen who had an interest in dragging things out, because they received money for every action they took. So they created all kinds of obstacles instead of helping. But he nevertheless worked behind the scenes, through all kinds of channels. In the end, he and Reb Mendel arranged for Beit Romano to be sold to... to the Rebbe Rashab. To the Rebbe Rashab, and it truly brought him great joy. I once met Reb Eliezer Nanes—may he live a long life. You’ve heard of him, yes? He was a Jew of mesirus nefesh. He spent twenty years in Siberia. Yes. When he was still a bochur in the Rebbe Rashab’s yeshiva, he was with the Rebbe Rashab on 19 Kislev. He told me he remembered Reb Shleimele coming to the Rebbe Rashab on 19 Kislev. He said, “And that was a 19 Kislev!” The uplift and spiritual elevation there in those days! He said, “I remember your grandfather, Reb Shleimele, sitting near the Rebbe Rashab, and we were all so uplifted. That was the loftiness of 19 Kislev.” That is what I heard from him. Well, that is more or less about... Afterward he lived a long life, almost to the age of ninety. Then he came back here, and... He would daven in Bukhara. He knew Bukharian well, too. He and Rabbi Chaim Naeh—Rabbi Chaim Naeh was also in Bukhara with him for a period of one year.

19:24 Speaker 2 In his later years, when he reached what you might call the age of eighty, he no longer wanted to issue halachic rulings. He said he felt his mind was no longer clear enough to... So from then on, he stopped. But he was a chossid and a porush, as they say. Yes, [unclear]. My grandfather, Reb Avrom, was a shliach in Tavrik [?] for a time. Afterward he went to Egypt. But throughout his life he was a man who loved tzedakah and kindness. For years he worked in the free-loan fund of Agudas Chassidim without pay. He also worked in the chevra kadisha for fifty years, always involved there, without pay. He was a righteous Jew. Then my father, of blessed memory, was also born in Hebron, as we said earlier. Afterward he grew up and... he fled to Egypt for five years. When he returned from Egypt at the age of ten, he went back to the Eitz Chaim Talmud Torah here. He studied with Reb Shalom Menuch Ravach [?]. They were in the same class, along with a Levin, the son of Berl Levin, and others. There were several in that class who went on to great things; they rose in stature. Afterward he studied at Eitz Chaim. He was a very diligent student as a bochur. They lived then in the Beis Yisroel neighborhood, and at night he would learn in the Be’er Sheva shul—that was what they called it, “Be’er Sheva” [unclear]. There is a story from there involving Reb Shlomke of Zvhil. This was in the early days after Reb Shlomke of Zvhil arrived in Eretz Yisroel. He lived there in the Beis Yisroel neighborhood. My father learned diligently there, sitting and learning every night until one or two in the morning, going over the material again and again. He knew the three tractates, he would not

22:50 Speaker 2 speak, and once again he was learning the Tosafos and found it difficult. This elderly man saw that the young bochur—he was about seventeen then—was struggling with it. He went over and said, “Bochur... bochur, what are you having trouble with? Perhaps I can help you.” But my father thought he was an ordinary layman, and that he would have to explain the whole sugya to him. He wouldn’t know what it was about, so he said, “No, no, no, no. I’ll manage on my own.” “Well, all right.” The man went back, opened a sefer and looked at it. Then he saw my father still struggling, so he came over again and said, “Bochur, tell me what’s troubling you.” Seeing that he was asking again, my father thought perhaps he really could help. “Well, this Tosafos says such and such, but apparently, in the earlier Tosafos, what it says there makes it impossible to give the explanation Tosafos gives here. How can the two fit together?” Without even looking inside, the man explained it to him. That elderly man was Reb Shlomke of Zvhil. My father did not know who he was; he thought he was an ordinary old man. So Reb Shlomke explained the entire sugya to him from memory, showing how this Tosafos did not contradict the other one. My father said he later found it in a Rashash somewhere else: the Rashash asks the same question and gives that same answer. He was truly amazed that, without looking inside, the man had such command of all those sugyos by heart. The next morning he saw him davening in the shtieblach in Beis Yisroel. He went to the gabbaim and said, “That elderly man sitting there at the side”—no one had yet recognized him. He was just some elderly man

24:57 Speaker 2 He arrived among the very first, when no one knew him yet. Someone said, “That elderly man sitting over there by the door is a great Torah scholar. We should bring him up to the front and seat him there.” So two gabbaim went over to him. They didn’t know who he was either; they thought he was just an unfamiliar visitor. They said, “We’ve heard that you’re a Torah scholar. Perhaps you’d come sit at the front?” “No, no, no.” It shows you what the Jews living in Jerusalem were like in those days. There was also a story involving an Arab policeman. My father would come home very late from shul, at one or two in the morning, and a policeman would be patrolling. He was an Arab policeman employed by the British Mandate. So the policeman saw this young fellow walking around at one or two in the morning. He grabbed him and said, “What’s he doing out here? He must be a thief, or planning to steal something.” He wanted to take him to the Kishle to be questioned there. My father told the policeman that he lived nearby and was just studying there. “Then I want to see where you live.” So they went there and knocked on the door, and his father came out. It was one in the morning, and he said, “Yes, he’s my son, and he studies here every night.” The policeman asked for something to drink. They drew water from the cistern—there were no taps there—and gave him a drink. After that, every night, that policeman would wait by the Be’er Sheva shul. When my father came home late at night, the policeman would escort him all the way home, and they would give him a drink there. He protected him along the way. “May Hashem protect you from all harm; may He guard your going out

27:06 Speaker 2 and your coming in.” That was in those days. He was very diligent in his studies there, and went on learning afterward as well. Even after his wedding, he continued, in fact. He also studied in [unclear]. He studied under the Tepliker Rav. He received semichah from Rabbi Kook and from the Tepliker Rav, the rabbi of Teplik, who was a renowned genius and a great halachic authority. He also received semichah in shechitah and the laws of treifos from Rabbi Larom [?], who was the head of the shochtim in Jerusalem and also sat on the beis din of Rabbi Tzvi Pesach Frank. Rabbi Tzvi Pesach Frank thought very highly of my father. Every Friday, my father would go to Rabbi Frank’s home. He would bring the various questions people had asked him, and he and Rabbi Pesach Frank would examine and clarify them. That was where matters were resolved. Sometimes he would also visit another great Torah scholar in Jerusalem who lived in Katamon, Rabbi Zev Mintzberg. My father would sometimes ask him questions too, and he would ask Rabbi Pesach Frank the same question. So at times he would carry Torah discussions or halachic rulings from one to the other—from Rabbi Zev Mintzberg to Rabbi Pesach Frank, and from Rabbi Pesach Frank to Rabbi Zev Mintzberg. He was the messenger. They trusted him to convey their words exactly as they needed to be conveyed. All this was before the founding of the state. He was already giving classes at Toras Emes. My father gave classes there. Rabbi [unclear] Shapiro was the rosh yeshivah there at the time. My father was a maggid shiur there, and he taught there for many years. Toras Emes was then at a very high

29:31 Speaker 2 academic level, so much so that students from Litvish homes came to study there. There was one named Charlap, and several others from Litvish homes who went to Toras Emes, because at the time it was a yeshivah... So he taught there for many years. He taught at Toras Emes from 5701 to 5714.

29:51 Speaker 4 It’s written there.

29:55 Speaker 2 Yes. My father later left because some things there weren’t working out. Afterward he moved to Radzin. This was before the founding of the state, when all the underground groups—the Irgun, Lehi, and the Haganah—were fighting the British here. Members were arrested and held in...

30:26 Speaker 4 Latrun, Latrun.

30:27 Speaker 2 In Latrun.

30:29 Speaker 4 There was a prison there in Latrun.

30:30 Speaker 2 There was a prison there, and many of the inmates were observant Jews who needed a rabbi to guide them. They needed someone to read the Torah for them on Shabbos and teach them Torah classes. There was a Perlman—I think he was the one who initiated it. In short, there was Dovid Perlman, who was [unclear]; he had a son detained there in Latrun. He spoke to my father about those poor detainees. He said, “If you could go there every Shabbos to strengthen them and lift their spirits—they have families, children, wives who are crying. It’s simply heartbreaking.” My father didn’t know whether he could take that on. He would have to deal with the British police and the British intelligence service, who would constantly watch him to see whether he was passing messages or anything else. He was afraid to take the risk; he had a family with small children too. Perlman said, “Try it. Do a mitzvah—try.” So my father agreed to go for one Shabbos. He went there, and all the events and what happened there are recorded in the book he published, Sha’ali Tziyon. It contains many questions that arose in the detention camp, many halachic questions. At first there were many nonobservant Jews there too. On Shabbos, the prisoners themselves would cook the meals. Those Jews who didn’t observe Shabbos cooked there on Shabbos, and of course the observant prisoners—there were yeshivah students, chareidim, and all sorts of others who had been arrested—wouldn’t eat that food. They ate only a little bread and water. They simply couldn’t eat any cooked food there on Shabbos. One possibility was to arrange for non-Jews—there were also a few non-Jewish prisoners there—to do the cooking on Shabbos instead. Even though asking a non-Jew to do work on Shabbos is also prohibited by rabbinic law, some of the prisoners were ill. They weren’t necessarily in danger, but they might have been, and they needed warm food. So having non-Jews cook instead would, on the one hand, spare those Jews from cooking on Shabbos. On the other hand, perhaps food a non-Jew cooked on Shabbos for someone who was ill could be eaten, even if the illness wasn’t life-threatening. But asking a non-Jew to do it is prohibited by rabbinic law. So there was a question. It was quite a complicated halachic question. My father ruled that, given their circumstances, it was permissible. The question was brought before Rabbi Herzog, who also struggled greatly over whether to permit it. But Shapiro [?] was actually among those who were lenient in such matters. Yes, there was another question there about mezuzos in the camp. The prisoners lived in barracks, and there were many barracks there. Did they need mezuzos or not? There were all kinds of arguments. And when there were people in the camp who desecrated Shabbos, should you speak to them and tell them, even though they were unlikely to listen? All sorts of questions like that arose in the camp. Kashrus there was... they had to appoint someone. The supplies were provided by a non-Jew, and there needed to be [unclear] for the shochet. The shochet there was an elderly Jew who didn’t know exactly how to slaughter the poultry or the calves he slaughtered.

33:04 Speaker 2 to eat there on Shabbos. On the one hand, it could have been arranged for a non-Jew—there were several non-Jewish prisoners there too—to cook it on Shabbos, so that... Even though asking a non-Jew to do it is also a rabbinic restriction, and so is benefiting from it, there were also some sick people among the prisoners. Not that they were in immediate danger, but they might have been. They were sick and needed to eat hot food. So the non-Jews could cook instead of the Jews. On the one hand, that would spare the Jews from having to cook on Shabbos, and on the other hand, perhaps food cooked by a non-Jew on Shabbos for someone who was sick—even if the illness was not life-threatening—could be eaten. But asking a non-Jew to do it is a rabbinic restriction, so there is a prohibition. That was the question. It was a fairly complicated halachic question that my father dealt with. Based on his assessment of the situation, he ruled that it was permissible. The question was brought before Rabbi Herzog. Rabbi Herzog also struggled greatly over whether to permit it, but Shapira, though[?], was among those who took a more lenient approach in these matters. Yes, there was another question there, about mezuzos in the camp. They lived in barracks. There were many barracks housing prisoners. Did they need mezuzos or not? There were all kinds of arguments. And in the camp, when someone desecrated Shabbos, was it possible to speak to him and tell him, even though he probably would not listen? All kinds of questions like that arose in the camp. And the kashrus there... they needed to appoint someone, because the person supplying the goods was a non-Jew, and there had to be Bloomberg[?] for that shochet. The shochet there was an elderly Jew who did not know exactly how to slaughter the chickens or the animals—he slaughtered calves.

35:36 Speaker 2 And sheep and all that. There were many halachic questions there, and this book is built around those questions. There were questions about utensils for Pesach and all sorts of other issues that arose there among the hundreds of prisoners. He spent five years in that prison, shut in without his family. On Friday afternoons he would arrive and be locked into a tin shack. In the summer it was unbearably hot, and in the winter it was bitterly cold. He had to bring a challah and a little fish from home because he had no other food. He couldn’t eat the food there. He had a thermos that gave him a little hot water, and that was how he lived for five years. He did it with mesirus nefesh. He said not to put any titles on his gravestone, only to write that he had served as a rabbi in the Latrun detention camp for about five years. Perhaps, he said, that merit would stand by him Above. And this was despite his mastery of the entire Shas, [unclear]. I remember once asking him a question about the laws of Pesach, and he immediately showed me where Shaarei Teshuvah discusses it. I said to him, “How did you remember that? It’s tucked away there in Shaarei Teshuvah.” He said, “I’ve learned it thirty-six times. I reviewed all those laws.” That was when I was still young, perhaps a child. That was his ability to review. He would always send me letters at the yeshiva when I was a student, writing, “Review, review, review.” That review is one of the greatest keys to success in learning. I remember once going with my father to see the—

37:55 Speaker 2 Rebbe of Sochatchov in Bayit Vegan. He was the son of the Shem MiShmuel, who was the son of the Avnei Nezer. The Avnei Nezer was a genius among geniuses and one of the leading halachic authorities of his time. The Sochatchover Rebbe told my father a story while I was there. I was about thirteen years old. When I saw him, he was already very elderly. He told my father that when he was a child, about twelve and a half, he went into the room where the Avnei Nezer was. The Avnei Nezer took him in his arms—he was his grandson, his son’s son—and said, “Listen, all my success in learning came only from reviewing again and again and again and again. That brought me all my success in learning.” In other words, I heard this from someone who heard it from the Avnei Nezer himself. That’s a fairly close connection. He said that the Avnei Nezer passed away just a few months after that incident. And my father always placed great importance on reviewing. Whenever he wanted to encourage someone, he would say, “Review it again.” He used to say, “When you study Yoreh Deah ten times, the first ten times are called learning. The eleventh time is when you begin reviewing.” That was his approach. He truly merited to become thoroughly versed in Torah and to teach it widely. He taught Torah for sixty years—in yeshivos and kollelim. He taught for several years in the kollel in Kfar Chabad, and in the kollel at Kerem B’Yavneh. He taught in other places too, and went through Shas with the members of his shul in Katamon. He learned the entire Shas with them several times.

40:08 Speaker 2 He himself finished Shas almost every year. He learned nearly ten pages a day; he knew it all. I remember that a month before his passing, I saw for myself that he learned all of Kesubos and all of Yevamos. He asked me several questions: “Why does Rashi say such-and-such here?” I could see what he was learning every day. Once, after he broke his leg, he was at Maon HaSimcha. He sat in the shul there all day, learning from morning until night. The young men stood behind him to see which page he was on in the morning and which page he had reached later on. He managed to learn more than twelve pages that day, because he was familiar with all the material. I think I once heard that the Rebbe Rashab would get through close to sixty pages of Gemara every day. That’s what I heard. Well, those were the figures of earlier times. My father also had a friend from his years as a young married man, Reb Shimon Kalpus, with whom he studied. They were people of what you might call the “Jerusalem Above.” Reb Shimon Kalpus had no children, but he was a righteous Jew and a great Torah scholar. Every night he would come to learn with my father from the beginning of the night until after midnight. Reb Shimon Kalpus was also tremendously diligent in his learning. Sometimes he would stay overnight at my father’s home. My father lived in Meah Shearim then. He would sleep there and get up before dawn. Reb Shimon Kalpus’s wife would meet my father and shout at him, “What do you mean by taking my husband? He doesn’t come home to sleep all night. I’m left

42:23 Speaker 2 alone in the house. We have no children; we have no one.” My father would say, “I always tell him to go home and sleep.” But Reb Shimon would say, “As long as I can walk, I can still learn. When I’m too weak to learn, I’m too weak to walk home, so I have to sleep here.” That was how these Jews learned Torah, with mesirus nefesh. My father observed the yahrtzeits of both Reb Shimon Kalpus and his wife, since they had no children. His wife was—Reb Shimon Kalpus passed away relatively young, in his fifties, but he was truly one of the great figures of Jerusalem. Those were people on a higher plane. And we learn from this. When we look at ourselves, we say, “Oh no, how shameful! How disgraceful, the way we are!” But it is brought in the name of the holy Shelah that having distinguished ancestors can be a good thing, but there is another side to it. In the middle of Parshas Bechukosai, it says, “And I will remember My covenant with Yaakov, and also My covenant with Yitzchak, and also My covenant with Avraham will I remember,” and so on. Then it continues, “The land shall be forsaken by them and shall make up for its Sabbatical years throughout the time it lies desolate.” Why does that verse appear in the middle of the rebuke? Because Hakadosh Boruch Hu is saying, “You have Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov—such great forefathers.

44:15 Speaker 2 How could you have fallen so far?” That is part of the rebuke. It isn’t simply a reminder of your lineage. Because you come from such a lineage, more is expected of you: how could you have come to this? So when we know about these people, there is something expected of us too. Where do we stand? We ought to be different.