Final Resolution (Part I),Rabbi Hanoch Teller

Someone once observed that in the yeshiva of Telshe, the concept of "adequate" was anathema to the students. To the connoisseur, adequacy is insulting.

This lofty standard was not unique to the yeshiva, founded in 1875. It pervaded that famous Lithuanian town where fear of Heaven was cardinal, chesed was the breath of life and Torah study was everything. After the turn of the century, the Jews in the majority of European towns - even those with a dominant Jewish population - were irreligious and often anti-religious in outlook and practice. But Telshe was a "college town" whose central focus was the yeshiva. Rabbi Akiva Eiger commented about the Telshers: "Even the wagon drivers are as full of Torah as a pomegranate is of seeds."

One Telsher wagon driver considered the possibility of the venerable rosh yeshiva stumbling late at night through Telshe's dark alleys so appalling that he insisted on sleeping on the bench where the rosh yeshiva learned. When the rosh yeshiva would arise at the conclusion of his studies, deep in the night, the wagon driver would awaken to bring his illustrious passenger home. In appreciation for the wagon driver's sacrifice on his behalf, the rosh yeshiva blessed the humble man with a long life. The wagon driver first divulged this story at the age of 109.

One itinerant repairman in Telshe would knock on doors and offer to inspect - for free - the kashering boards that were a fixture in every kitchen. His true intention was to engage the women in a discussion regarding the halachos of kashering meat to ensure that they clearly understood the laws. If repairs for the boards were necessary, he would never charge more than a few pennies.

Even the train depot in Telshe was a nucleus of chesed. One Telsher couple would wait there until the last train made its stop late at night to collect the weary passengers who had not made lodging arrangements. Sometimes the couple was so successful that they filled every bed in their home, including their own - whereupon they would remove the doors from their hinges and sleep on these jerry-rigged "mattresses."

There was an elderly Jew who would wait at the depot to attract the attention of incoming travelers by yelling, "Help me! Help me!"

The passengers had only a one-hour layover, so except in case of an emergency they were reluctant to detrain and jeopardize the continuation of their journey. "You must come to my house now," the old man would continue to wail.

"Is someone ill?" the anxious passengers would inquire, as they hurried down to the platform.

"No, no, there's only a short time before the next train, and you must allow me to feed you and give you a bed to rest. Please - my house is right across the street."

The Telshers' love of Torah was so intense that during the yeshiva's daily recess people would step outside to catch a glimpse of the scholars' radiant faces. One laborer would loiter in front of his shop in the hope that a student would pass by so that he could provide a minor service like giving the time of day.

The proceedings at one conference of the local fire department are illustrative of the degree to which Torah permeated Telshe. The roshei yeshiva sent some of the older yeshiva students to represent the Torah outlook to the conference and to demonstrate the yeshiva's appreciation for the service that the non-religious firefighters provided. The department seated the yeshiva students up front in the section reserved for dignitaries.

When the department's burly, unlettered chief arose to speak, he wished to afford the scholars some honor, but he had nothing of Torah content to convey. So he commenced his address with a phrase that was the most commonplace expression in Telshe. "Chazal zuggen - the ancient rabbis, of blessed memory, taught " - and continued with words that bore no Torah content and were in no way connected to his opening idiom.

* * *

When Rabbi Yehoshua Heller vacated the position of rav in Telshe in order to become the maggid of Vilna, it was understood that his replacement would have to be a scholar of the highest caliber and refinement of character. Several candidates were considered.

Topping the short list was a resident of Telshe, Rabbi Abba Werner, the av beis din, who was considered a shoo-in for the prestigious position. A different candidate, by all means worthy but not as well known to Telshe, was Rabbi Lazer Gordon, one of the great students of Volozhin and a disciple of Reb Yisrael Salanter. For reasons that will forever remain a mystery, Rabbi Gordon was selected. It was this very gaon who would subsequently be revered as the gadol hador.

Rabbi Werner was hurt that he had been passed over for what he thought was naturally his. In frustration and humiliation he left for foreign pastures. After a brief tenure in Copenhagen, he assumed the position of rabbi in Machzikei Hadass in London's East End.

(To be continued)

Chodesh Tov - have a pleasant month!

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