The Lithuanian city of Brisk is celebrated as a home of Talmudic scholars, notably the famous Soloveitchik family - Reb Yoseif Dov ("Reb Yosha Ber," 5580/1820- 5652/1892), Reb Chaim (5613/1853-5678/1918), and Reb Yitzchok Zev ("Reb Velvel," 5647/1887-5720/1959), Zichronom L'Vracha, who in succession served as rabbis of Brisk. In addition to their lomdus (analytical approach to Talmud study) and their kano'us (zeal), there is yet another tradition, equally ingrained, but not as widely known: the exceptional Brisker generosity.

On these pages, Rabbi Chaim Leib Balgley Shlita shares his reminiscences, relating several incidents regarding outstanding rabbinical leaders of Brisk through the ages - incidents that exemplify the Brisker legacy.

When the Bach, Rabbi Yoel Surkis (16th Century scholar whose redactional notes appear in the margin of Talmud and Shulchan Aruch) was Rav in Brisk, he directed a Yeshiva that attracted students from all over Eastern Europe. His graduates became outstanding rabbinic leaders in a number of prominent communities.

One morning, when the Bach was on his way to the yeshiva, a woman came running toward him crying: "Rebbe, help me. My one child who attended your yeshiva is sick and was hospitalized for a full month. Now the physicians have given up on him and sent him home. Rebbe, help me!"

The Bach explained that his medical knowledge was in no way superior to that of the physicians, adding, "In what way can I possibly be of help? Even our forefather Yaakov told Rachel (when she pleaded with him 'Give me children'): Can I substitute for G-d?"

She begged: "Rebbe, I have not come for your personal aid in my son's behalf, but rather for the merit of your Torah study at the yeshiva."

"This is an altogether different matter," said the Rabbi. "What is your son's name, and what is your name?" He recorded these names and sent her home with his blessings.

At the shiur, the Rabbi related the incident to his students and asked them to concentrate on the Torah discourse he was about to deliver, in which merit G-d should send a complete and speedy recovery to that sick boy. Upon the conclusion of the Torah lecture, the Rabbi recited the customary Mi Shebeirach prayer for the sick.

The following day, the mother entered the yeshiva, and with tears of joy, related what had transpired several hours after her street-side plea with the Rabbi - how her son had opened his eyes, then asked for water, and later for some food; and shortly afterward got out of bed and played about on the floor. The mother then publicly - before the assembly of students and teachers - expressed deep gratitude to G-d and took leave. Later in the day, after she had returned home, the family physician stopped by to check on the child. When he saw the boy walking about and playing, he exclaimed: "This is beyond all wonders! We had expected his life to end in a matter of days. What in the world happened since he came home from the hospital?"

Upon learning the sequence of events, the physician exclaimed: "This is truly t'chias hameisim - a revival of the dead! I am now a convinced man of faith."

(This incident is recorded in the Book of Records in Brisk.)

Protector of the Schools

Rabbi Yehoshua Leib Diskin (5577/1816-5658/1896) was a young man when he became Rav of Brisk. At that time, the maskillim were attempting to reform the Jewish educational system, assuming that once they have taken over the schools all other aspects of Jewish life would fall into place, gradually eliminating the older folks with their "old-fashioned ways."

At that time, the mayor of Brisk was a well-known antiSemite. He especially could not countenance the Orthodox Jews and their way of life. Hence, when young, inexperienced Reb Yehoshua Leib became spiritual leader of Brisk, the maskillim seized the opportunity to meet with the mayor and attack the religious Jews and their schools. They faulted the instructors as being totally inconsistent with the spirit of the times, the classrooms as unhygienic - plus several other "undesirable features."

Without much difficulty, they convinced the mayor that he should force the new young Rav to toe the line.

The mayor sent for the president of the kehilluh and insisted that he update the Jewish School, but the president protested that all religious, spiritual, and educational matters were in the Rav's domain, and under his sole jurisdiction. The mayor then invited the Rav for a discussion, congratulating him upon assuming the exalted rabbinical leadership of Brisk. He then informed him that a new educational system was being instituted for the benefit of the entire Jewish community, which the Rav, as supreme authority, was now to set into motion.

The Rav instantly explained that when the Creator gave the Torah to the Jews, He commanded them to study this Torah in accordance with a prescribed method and system, which has been going on for some three thousand years - generation after generation. No temporal authority had the right to change this educational system.

The mayor was enraged at the Rav's calm independence, not aware that the Rav was merely conforming to: "Thou shall not fear any man."

This was the first time anyone had dared disobey the mayor, who rose in a fit of anger, paced back and forth excitedly in his office, and barked: "I'm busy right now and in a hurry to attend an important meeting out of town. When I return, I expect you to sign this document [with the order to modernize the educational system explicitly spelled out] on the dotted line and carry out its terms." - At which he exited in a fury, slamming the door behind him.

The Rav followed him out calmly. The mayor mounted his large white steed, and rode off. While he was crossing a bridge at full gallop, the bridge collapsed and horse and rider were plunged into the raging river below, and drowned.

The Jewish community of Brisk maintained their Torah educational system, while the maskillim continued to plot against it at their meetings. Today, we still speak of Brisker Torah with awe, while the maskillim of Brisk have long been forgotten.

The Road to Brisk

Prior to assuming the rubbanus in Brisk, Reb Yosha Ber was Rav in Slutsk - a position he relinquished on account of the following incident:

The Czar had a policy of conscripting young Jewish children into the army for a twenty-year term of duty. These children- soldiers were called "Cantonists." This decree of whisking away young Jewish children deep into Siberia, isolated from other Jews, was in essence shmad. The government set a quota for each community, affecting rich and poor families alike, without exception. The rich paid high ransom fees to avoid the decree for their sons, but the quota still had to be met, so children of poor families were kidnapped.

A young boy from a nearby town was studying in the Slutsk elementary yeshiva. Some wealthy citizens had this child snatched, and locked up in an out-of-the-way hut. Reb Yosha Ber learned of this and was deeply disturbed. He pleaded with the abductors for the boy's release, but was ignored. Seeing that he could accomplish nothing with negotiations, he investigated and found out where the boy was being held. He gathered some of his loyal followers and, at midnight broke through the door with a hatchet and freed the boy.

The wealthy group was infuriated at Reb Yosha Ber's arrogance in overriding them, and had him dismissed. Others says that in view of the unsavory element to be dealt with, he simply resigned.

After the bitter incident in Slutsk, Reb Yosha Ber did not care to remain in the rabbinate. However, the rabbinical post was open in Brisk and a delegation was sent to Reb Yosha Ber to ask him to accept the position. He declined. I had heard from the Chofetz Chaim that the community of Brisk was extremely anxious to obtain the rabbinical leadership of Reb Yosha Ber, and delegated a larger committee to entreat him not to reject a city of 50,000 Jews praying for his arrival. Reb Yosha Ber was so impressed that he and his Rebbetzin set out at once for Brisk. At this, the Chofetz Chaim declared: "Master of the Universe! Behold Yosha Ber! Upon hearing that a community of Jews are prayerfully awaiting his arrival he went there forthwith. All Israel has been awaiting Mashiach for so long. Isn't it surely time that You immediately send us the Redeemer?" (Such was the Chofetz Chaim's way of imbuing every event with spiritual significance.)

Brisk - A Spiceshop of Goodness and Zeal

A number of years ago, a visitor from Jerusalem brought me regards from the Brisker Rav, Rabbi Yitzchok Zev (Reb Velvel). Reb Velvel had related to the visitor that my father had been respected by the bais harav (the Rav's family) as an individual who had absorbed both the ahavas chessed (selfless generosity) and kano'us (zeal) associated with his family: On the one hand, Reb Velvel would send sick people to my father for his blessing, even before sending them to Reb Chaim. On the other hand (according to a magazine article about Brisk), my father was well-liked, and used this popularity to influence others to come closer to Torah.

After World War I barber-shops were for some reason very lax in Sabbath observance. A Shmiras Shabbos Society was organized, including in its membership dayanim (rabbinical judges), roshei yeshiva, and other talmidei chachomim. On Friday afternoons, members of this Society would visit half the city's Jewish shops (especially the barber-shops!), while my father visited the other half - they were successful in persuading virtually all the shop-owners to close their stores in time for Shabbos. Apparently the would-be Sabbath violators recognized that their visitor's kano'us for Shabbos was motivated by genuine ahavas Yisrael.

A particular incident during the War demonstrated for me how my father had absorbed the chessed of Brisk to the point of risking his life for others: We had been driven out of Brisk, site of a large army encampment, and we settled in Vayazma, a town near Moscow, whose population was 99% non-Jewish. My father sent me to Lubavitch to study. Some time later, as the war progressed and the Germans were advancing toward Moscow, my father came to Lubavitch to take me home.

One day, when I was at the railroad station, a soldier approached me: "Shalom Aleichem. Do you recognize me? I was in an advanced class in Lubavitch when you were in the yeshiva ... I'm awaiting an army train, which should be arriving in about an hour. I'll be leaving for Minsk, on the front lines."

Minsk was not far from Moscow, and the Germans were advancing with heavy artillary, tanks, and their comparatively modern airforce, which was mowing down men like so many weeds. - The men? The Czar had given the order that they fight to their death. "New people are born," he said, "but not land. Fight for every yard of land!" Soldiers sent to Minsk were known not to return.

My father joined us and listened to our conversation. I introduced the soldier: "This is a yeshiva bachur I know from my days in Lubavitch."

There he stood, with a rifle on his shoulders, white as chalk - a picture of fear. My father thought for a moment, then said to him, "Don't go on the train. Don't stand around here. Follow us home."

When he arrived home, my father set up temporary sleeping quarters in the basement and said: "To stay in the army and follow orders is absolute suicide. The Czar has said as much himself. You're my guest, but you mustn't go out or be seen. All our neighbors are non-Jewish. The Czar issued a decree that any soldier deserting the army or anyone sheltering a deserter will be executed. So don't leave this basement!"

We kept the boy hidden there until the war was over.

What amazed me throughout was my father's calm in the face of the daily danger involved - his matter-of-fact manner, as if we had simply invited a guest to stay overnight. I was even more moved by my father's profound respect for the young man as a Torah scholar - both attitudes reflecting the heritage of Brisk. It was precisely as the Gemara says: When one enters a spiceshop, sweet fragrances cling to his clothing.

Rabbi Chaim Leib Balgley, a native of Brisk, served as Rav in Dubinova, Poland.