1.
It may seem strange, but when I heard the horrible announcement live on the radio, what went through my mind was, what are these poor people who are not now in the middle of a car ride like me, and have not been prepared for something like ten minutes – the initial report of the crash, then the prayers, and resuscitation, And the confession – but now snatch the news in the boom. In four words. Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky passed away.
Many of them even in the middle of Jerusalem’s Purim meal, with happy music in the background, and deliveries of dishes and meat and wine. There are some that are perfumed at all now. They get this box in this belly out of drunkenness (on Sunday at the funeral I met two such friends. “It stopped all drunkenness at once,” they both said).
Looking back, it seems to me that all these thoughts about others were just to distract me from the big shock. But that’s the point. That there was not so much to be distracted. Because a short time later the dramatic broadcast on the religious stations stopped. Shabbat descended on the Rashbam Valley.
2.
Think about it: at any other time, we would get an endless wave of radio stations and websites. Not to mention the WhatsApp and News groups. Hours upon hours of reports and commentaries. What exactly did the rabbi get rid of? Which paramedic came first and what did he see? What about the funeral? What are the police assessments? What’s going on at home now? What do they say in the political system?
Endless text from the moment of death until the closing of the scroll.
But apparently Heaven wanted us to experience these moments differently. We received the basic information, which is basically the whole story: R. Chaim Kanievsky passed away. This. This is the end of the news. Now put in the Sabbath and think about it on your own. There is nowhere to run. Sit down at Shabbat meals, talk about it with the kids, man and house, without the help of commentators.
It was challenging, this quiet. I confess. I was afraid to be left alone. A minute before Shabbat began, long after the religious radio stations had disappeared, I opened the B network and I still had time to hear the narrator read the moving message of mourning from the head of the opposition, Benjamin Netanyahu.
It is interesting to know who wrote for him, so quickly and so beautifully, this exact text: “The people of Israel lost an immensely wise student who was a central link in the chain of Torah transmission from generation to generation.
Rabbi Kanievsky’s home in Bnei Brak served as a center of pilgrimage for our people from all walks of life. They drank thirstily at the source of his mouth, sought his blessing and advice, and drew mental strength from his unique Torah authority. The image of the old rabbi who is constantly diligent about his Talmud inspired the hearts of those around him. He took advantage of every spare moment to study, and this was reflected in his immense knowledge of the written Torah and the oral Torah.
Rabbi Kanievsky left us in the middle of Purim, shortly before Shabbat began. In this week’s parsha we read: ‘A fire that is always burning on the altar will not be extinguished’. The constant fire of the love of Israel and the Torah of Israel that burned in the late Rabbi Kanievsky will not go out forever.
3.
For the ultra-Orthodox sector, if it is possible to generalize, it was very important this week to mediate the figure of R. Chaim Kanievsky to the secular. I pretty much gave it up in advance. This is an impossible task. After all, it is hardly possible to mediate his image to the ultra-Orthodox public.
Who exactly was he? What is the secret of its effect? What can be taken into our lives from his character?
I do not have clear answers to all these questions. One thing is clear: all the scholarly panels that discussed in the studios the question of who the heir was, and where ultra-Orthodox politics would go in the era after Rabbi Kanievsky, were ridiculous. Not that they did not say the right things. Not necessarily. But that the very discussion is sinful to reality.
First of all, because R. Chaim Kanievsky, for what he was, really has no heir.
What did Rabbi Gershon Edelstein say in his eulogy? “In the Gemara it is said that there was a great man who died, and when he was eulogized, they said, ‘Woe, Hassara Ara’a Disrael Gavra Rabba.’ Woe to the land of Israel that lacks a great man. It is not written that he was the only great man in the Land of Israel. And yet it is written that if one is missing – there is no influence for the whole land of Israel. But here with us, it is not a great man who has another great man like him, he was the only great man of the Land of Israel. “Now there is no great man in all the land of Israel and in the whole world.”
And on the second issue we discussed throughout the broadcasts, ultra-Orthodox politics after his death: Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky was not a political leader. In fact, he was not a leader at all. So what was he? As mentioned, it is difficult to define.
The visionary Ish, his uncle-rabbi, called him in the letter “Mira Dakula Talmud” (the master of the entire Talmud). And that was in 1951, in his early twenties before he got married. Since then, another seventy years of endless study and perseverance have passed. Day after day, eight pages and another eight pages. How would the vision man define it today? “Minister of Torah”? Sounds minimalist to me.
4.
What I am trying to say here is that we have no tools at all to understand what exactly we have lost. R. Chaim did not really belong to our generation or to our world of concepts. This was very noticeable in the videos that have come out of his house in recent years.
Someone talked to him – usually bothered him – tried to get an answer or statement out of him, or introduce him to an important critic. And Rabbi Chaim did answer with a word, or less than a word (BH), but it was easy to see that he was now in other worlds. In a different atmosphere. There was not some shaky and fresh one here, some dialogue between a rabbi and a student.
Many people this week posted pictures of themselves with R. Chaim in his humble room. I have no picture with him. And not that I did not have the opportunity to enter the sanctuary inside. But I was scared.
From what? Exactly that. From this thing that the phrase “Holy inward” expresses. This is not just a cliché here. It is a description of a place and a description of a situation. Today, of course, I’m sorry I did not overcome this awe, but that’s what I’ve felt all these years.
And speaking of awe: beyond the initial shock, and beyond the grief of the great loss, my feeling is also one of fear. Until last Friday, Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky lived in our generation. This fact has a specific effect on everything that happens here. Spiritual Iron Dome for the entire generation. And this effect ceased. We lost her. The Land of Israel is greatly missed.
By the way, it may sound a bit childish, but I personally expected the funeral to have a pillar of fire over the bed, as in the stories about the “Amuda Danura” in “So did our sages”. In fact, it is very possible that he did. We just did not get to see, in our eyes, anything beyond a long black vehicle surrounded by dozens of YSM police officers.
5.
So I, as mentioned, gave up trying to make this miraculous character accessible to the general public, and I’m still trying to explain it to myself.
But finally, here’s someone who did it not bad at all. His name is Major Rabbi Ofir Briner, and he is the military rabbi of the 25th Wing Air Force Base near Mitzpe Ramon.
This is what he wrote on Sunday morning in a special letter to the soldiers at the base:
“We have all heard in the news about the death of the great man of the generation, Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky. Hundreds of thousands of people are attending a funeral that is still taking place at the moment. But what does this have to do with me, the soldier, the officer or the counter in Wing 25? Seemingly, a cultural abyss divides us from Bnei Brak. Even the traffic jams of the huge funeral do not get this far…
But it really does concern each and every one of us. Because there really is a very strong spiritual ‘law of interlocking tools’ between the souls of us all, for better and for better, even if we do not feel it.
If there is a man who even though everyone recognized him as the greatest of the generation, treated each of the hundreds of people who came to meet him with respect every day with respect – then thanks to such a person we all have a little more respect for others, especially those who seem to us.
And if there is such a genius who from childhood learned the whole Torah and remembered every word of it better than a search engine, and went on to learn every year an amount of text that most academics do not study all their lives (and this is not an exaggeration) – then thanks to such a person we are all a little smarter and a little More connected to the great heritage of the Torah of Israel that has held us for some 3,330 years.
And if there is a very old man there in Bnei Brak who, although he could easily have been very rich, was very far from money and lived a simple life in a small two-room apartment and meager furniture – then thanks to such a person each of us is a little less wealthy.
And if there is a person who ran away from publicity and disliked descriptions and etiquette – then thanks to such a person we are all a little more humble and do things because it is the right thing and not because it will bring us respect. “
6.
And this provocative obituary, which was not given at the Bnei Brak seminary, but sent to the 25th Wing Base of the Air Force, was signed as follows: “So despite the cultural abyss, we are connected, whether we like it or not, to the great man buried today. And we should be glad that tens of thousands of his disciples are continuing his legacy and that in our nation there are such spirit giants.
And we, too, here at Wing 25, consciously and unconsciously, will acquire from his huge spirit and continue to live many common values in our lives as well, in our role in defending the State of Israel. And we also have the right to protect our brothers, the people of Bnei Brak (the late Rabbi Kanievsky loved and appreciated the military and security forces and strengthened their hand). We are all united in our soul, because truly ‘we are all one living human tissue’. May his great soul be bundled in the bundle of life, and from it we will all receive the addition of life. “
• The column is published in Besheva