The Yalkut Shimoni relates that when Moshe Rabbeinu passed away there was a crying in all the worlds. Hashem cried, “Who will rise up against the evildoers? Who will stand up against the doers of inequity?” The Heavens cried, “The devout one has disappeared from the land.” The earth cried, “The upright among men is no more.” Yehoshua, his disciple, likewise did not eulogize him. He cried, “Save me Hashem, for the devout one is no more.”
HaRav Dovid Povarsky, the rosh yeshiva of Ponovezh asks: Why doesn’t it say that Yehoshua cried for the Torah that was lost?
It is explained that Moshe Rabbeinu gave over the entire Torah to Yehoshua, as one pours the contents of one container into another, as it says (Avos 1:1), “Moshe received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it to Yehoshua…” Thus, Yehoshua was not missing the Torah, but he was feeling the loss of his teacher. The teacher was not only Torah; he was an image of a man of G-d. He missed seeing that image before him, and he therefore felt lost. Yehoshua didn’t eulogize Moshe; he only cried to be saved.
The Talmud relates (Mo’ed Katan 25b) that when R’ Yochanan left the world, R’ Yitzchak ben Elazar said: “Today is as difficult for the Jewish people as the day that the sun set at noon.” What does this mean? When the sun rises, the range of its rays is limited. However, at noon, the sun is high in the sky, and the intensity of its rays reaches far and wide. That is a description of the Sar HaTorah Maran HaGaon R’ Chaim Kanievsky. The repercussions of his petirah on Shushan Purim reverberate throughout the entire world.
There was none like him; he was exceptional in many different ways. He prevailed where few have succeeded, uniting all segments of Klal Yisroel. All people related to him, no matter their background. His accessibility to all was most evident when he would daven each day with the community in the Lederman Shul. He did not sit in the front of the shul, in a seat of honor, but chose to sit in the middle of the shul, off to the side. Anyone could have the honor of sitting next to him, something that was the dream of a lifetime for many.
Regardless of his unquenchable thirst to just continue learning, he gave up many hours of his Torah study each day to receive members of the worldwide community. Anyone – from a child who wanted to be tested in his learning by the tzaddik, to an elderly person who wished to get a bracha for good health, from representatives of organizations and yeshivos who sought his guidance and direction, to a preschool class, to people with complex halachic questions – could gain an audience with R’ Chaim. There were no requirements for admission. Whoever visited found a listening ear and an understanding heart. They would sometimes leave with a startling answer, contrary to what they had expected. But they left content knowing that they had heard daas Torah that would provide them with the truest answer available in this world.
A member of the entertainment world who had visited R’ Chaim several times came out immediately after his passing and said, “I feel the world is crying over the death of the tzaddik. The Torah is also crying.”
He was unique in his diligence in Torah. It is well known that he never wasted a second, and completed Shas every year. He was world-renowned for the abbreviated bracha that he gave – “buha” (the first letters of the words bracha v’hatzlacha) – sending another important message to the world regarding the value of time. Someone who had come to speak with R’ Chaim about a certain issue told me that when he came into the room, R’ Chaim was so immersed in his learning that he felt like a thief trying to steal something from him by taking his time. R’ Chaim’s entire happiness and joy in life was Torah.
Once, a distinguished individual came to see R’ Chaim, and the Rebbetzin told him that R’ Chaim would be with him in a minute, but if he liked he could observe R’ Chaim in his room. When he looked in, the man saw R’ Chaim jumping up and down, dancing. The Rebbetzin explained that R’ Chaim had been pondering a complex sugya in the Talmud for quite some time, and he had now elucidated the passage, and developed novellae that clarified the sugya. He was so happy that he was dancing. Every waking moment was spent learning Hashem’s Torah, writing Torah, speaking Torah.
Also extraordinary was the quantity of questions he answered over the years. Numerous volumes of his sheilos u’teshuvos (responsa) have been published, such as Sh’ailas Rav, Dolel Mashke, Derech Sichah, as well as sefarim written by rabbanim and authors who have sat with R’ Chaim for extended periods of time as he answered their myriad questions.
R’ Chaim had an incomprehensible ability to see further than the here and present. Our sages tell us (Bava Basra 12a) that a sage is greater than a prophet. Petitioners from all over the world would present R’ Chaim with questions that required the wisdom of Shlomo HaMelech, and his response revealed an understanding that was beyond the ken of a human being.
I once asked R’ Chaim about a communal situation that was untenable for the rebbeim and moros associated with a certain organization. Rather than answering my question, R’ Chaim instructed me to proceed in a way that, to my eye, would never resolve the matter. Yet, after I requested a special meeting with the members of the organization, they suddenly seemed to have a change of heart and, remarkably, the issue was cleared up.
R’ Chaim was unparalleled in his performance of mitzvos with exactitude, which is reflected as well in his responsa and writings, as our Sages tell us, “When an opportunity for a mitzvah arises do not delay to do it.” R’ Chaim insisted on davening with a minyan at the earliest opportunity three times a day. Once a grandson walked the Rebbetzin to shul ahead of R’ Chaim, but inadvertently removed the key from the lock on his way out, in effect barring R’ Chaim from leaving the house. When R’ Chaim saw that he could not get out the door, he didn’t waste a moment. The gadol brought a chair over to the window, climbed out and jumped to the ground. When he met his grandson, he smiled and asked lovingly, “Why did you lock your grandfather in the house?”
Twenty-five years later, when the grandson was himself a distinguished rav, he noted that his grandfather’s lesson regarding the importance of a mitzvah was forever engraved on his heart. He learned that even if the door is locked, a person who wants something enough will get what he wants.
After Yaakov Avinu, the preferred of the Forefathers, wrestled with the Angel of Eisav all night, the pasuk tells us (Bereishis 32:32), “The sun rose for him … and he was limping …” The Talmud asks (Chulin 91b), “Did the sun only rise for Yaakov? It rose, in fact, for the entire world.” HaGaon R’ Elyashiv explains that indeed, “The sun rose for him,” meaning that the rising sun included a ray of hope for Yaakov personally, to heal him, as it says (Malachi 3:20), “But a sun of righteousness will shine for you who fear My Name, with healing in its rays ….” Even in the darkest times of life there is a ray of hope.
The verse in Bamidbar (20:1) says, “And Miriam died there,” and Rashi comments that the reason the parsha of Miriam is adjacent to the parsha of the Red Heifer (parah adumah) is to teach us that just as the sacrifices serve as an atonement, so too the death of tzaddikim and tzidkoniyos bring atonement.
To Attain Fear of Heaven and Love of Torah
When R’ Chaim was still a young man, he went to see R’ Refoel Baruch Toledano and stood on the side, observing him from a distance. A rosh yeshiva who had come to seek R’ Toledano’s advice on a communal matter, approached R’Chaim and asked why he was studying R’ Toledano.
R’ Chaim explained, “My father, the Steipler, told me that if I would like to attain true yiras Shamayim (fear of Heaven) and strengthen my love of Torah I should go to the house of R’ Refoel Baruch Toledano and gaze upon his holy face.”
I believe that Hashem sent HaGaon R’ Chaim Kanievsky to us so that we should have a representation, an illustration, someone to look up to and to emulate, that would help us to deepen our yiras Shamayim and ahavas haTorah (love of Torah).
On the day when Rabba bar Nachmani passed on from this world, a stormy wind blew, picking up a person who was riding on a camel and throwing him from one side of the river to the other. When the person asked what it was all about, he was told that Rabba bar Nachmani had died.
The man looked up through the heavens and called out, “Ribbono Shel Olam, the whole world is Yours. Rabba bar Nachmani is Yours. You have him. What do You want from those who are left in this world?” The storm quieted.
Hashem, the world is Yours and Rav Shmaryahu Yosef Chaim ben Rav Yaakov Yisroel is Yours. May it be Your will that the storm in this world will quiet. May his memory be a blessing for Klal Yisroel.
