This Thursday night (the 19th of Shvat) marks the tenth yahrzeit of HaRav HaGaon Chaim Yisrael ben HaRav Dov Halevi Belsky, zt”l.
At the last official Tu B’Shvat fabrengen that he made in his home, surrounded by talmidim and family on a seemingly ordinary cold and dark winter night, Rav Belsky addressed the eager crowd. He left us with a timeless message that I would like to share.
Rav Belsky spoke to the darkness of the night, the stillness, and the lack of any apparent growth that winter brings. He explained to us that, quite to the contrary, on Tu B’Shvat an entire world of growth is exploding, unseen to the naked eye. The sap in the trees, the very essence that makes the trees blossom and bear fruit, is starting to flow. Rebirth is occurring, and Tu B’Shvat marks the beginning of that process.
He went on to explain that a yeshiva student – still a work in progress – is compared to the tree. While an outsider sees a young man who may seem undeveloped and stagnant, he is in fact growing and blossoming. With each passing day, he is acquiring Torah knowledge and refinement of character, until out of nowhere, he is a full-fledged talmid chacham. Man and tree grow under the shadows of the night. The message was that opportunities for growth exist even in the darkest of days. As the pasuk says, “Ki ha’adam eitz hasadeh.”
Ten years is too long. Even one day is too long. For anyone who lost a rebbe, this is not hard to understand. The loss is simply irreplaceable. But personal feelings aside, the Gemara in Rosh Hashanah (daf 18) speaks about the loss of a tzaddik (Gedaliah Ben Achikam) and compares it to the destruction of the Temple. Is the Gemara merely being fantastical in this comparison? The Achronim (see the Maharsha on the Gemara) discuss whether this statement should be taken literally. The last 5786 years have produced yahrzeits for every calendar day in the year of great individuals who have left this world. We do not respond to these losses as we do to the destruction of the Temple, so what then is the Gemara talking about?
To understand this better, we must look to another Gemara, in Nedarim (daf 12), where we learn about the personalization of a loss. There is the klal (the general – the masses) and the prat (the specific – the individual). The Gemara in Rosh Hashana seems to deal with the immediate impact and obligation that the loss of a tzaddik has on the masses. In other words, even if you had no connection to this tzaddik on a personal level, you are to mourn his loss like the loss of a relative, together with the entire Klal Yisrael, just as we all mourn the destruction of the Temple. But it is not something we do on every yahrzeit. That would just make life impossible to live – we would be steeped in mourning 24/7. For the individual, the Gemara in Nedarim speaks of the loss of a rebbe, a parent, and the Beis HaMikdash, specific losses associated with yearly commemoration. The Gemara compares those losses to the loss of Gedaliah Ben Achikam, which is commemorated yearly on Tzom Gedaliah.
Rav Belsky, zt”l, falls into a category all his own. There is an incumbent loss that American Jewry has to recognize, even those who never heard of Rav Belsky. Even if you did not know him, he was involved in your life. He worked selflessly for the Jewish nation. His love for Eretz Yisrael was palpable, and he would get emotional simply talking about it casually. He was the longtime rosh yeshiva of Torah Vodaas, and as posek for the OU for decades, he championed the cause of kashrus worldwide. He was involved in all aspects of p’sak halacha on medical questions, hilchos Shabbos, mikvah, eruv, and bris milah. He took a personal interest in the Russian, Iranian, and other immigrant Jewish communities. He fought for the rights of agunos, dealt with the sheitel controversy, and was frequently consulted on girls’ education. He formed and headed a beis din that dealt with business issues which still operates today. He was a daily rebbe, teaching Torah and halacha to young adult students and married kollel yungerliet. He was busy with all ages in Camp Agudah every summer. He was instrumental in every area relevant to his time.
Thus, his loss is a personal loss for everyone. As we speak, the home you live in, the products you have in your kitchen, and the difficult halachic shailos of our times are ones that Rav Belsky likely weighed in on, and you benefited from his efforts.
Can you imagine how much clearer things would have been had Rav Belsky been with us through the Covid-19 epidemic? How badly we needed his guidance after the October 7 tragedy? How we miss the ability to access his advice on all of our current personal matters.
So what can we say, and what can we do?
The Temple and the tzaddik are interchangeable. They are one concept. One of the things listed in various sources as hastening the rebuilding of the Beis HaMikdash is simply to yearn for it. To really want it to be rebuilt will help bring about its rebuilding. Yearning for the Beis HaMikdash shows Hashem what is really important to us. Simply observing the loss is not enough – we must want to reverse the loss.
Based on the Talmudic comparison between the Temple and the tzaddik, it would seem the same would apply to the tzaddik. We need to recognize the loss, to appreciate what the tzaddik did for us, and to thank Hashem for giving us access to him. We also must long for the day to meet and interact with him again.
This is something we all could do on the yahrzeit of Rav Belsky this week. In the z’chus of remembering and missing his guidance and leadership, and that of all of our lost tzaddikim, may we merit to sit together with HaRav Chaim Yisrael Belsky, zt”l, at the inauguration of the Third (and final) Temple promptly in our days.
Yehi zichro baruch.