In memory of Rabbi Berel Wein, zt”l
I write with tears and with gratitude for the privilege of having been his talmid.
Rabbi Berel Wein, zt”l, was my high school rebbi and rosh yeshiva at Yeshiva Shaarei Torah. But graduation never marked the end. Once you became one of his talmidim, you always were.
Many of us first met him as children and teenagers. Boys still discovering ourselves. Whether in his shul or his yeshiva, the relationships we formed with him were foundational. They did not fade with time; they matured. He taught us Torah when we were boys, and he continued teaching us how to live with Torah as men.
A Worldview, Not Just a Shiur
Rabbi Wein did not only teach Torah. He imparted a worldview. He spoke of Torah and history, character and responsibility, building and rebuilding. He showed us not only where we came from but where we stood in the arc of our people’s divine story.
That is why he named his life’s work the Destiny Foundation. For him, history was not something to be studied. It was something to be lived. We weren’t spectators of Jewish history. We were participants in its unfolding.
He gave Jews a sense of ownership over their past and obligation toward the future.
Preservation and Renewal
His mission was shaped by the shadow of the Holocaust. He carried the understanding that so much had been lost, and so much needed to be rebuilt. He focused on preservation and renewal. He believed Torah must meet the modern world with confidence.
He taught us that Jewish history was not only written in the past tense. It is being written now. Which means each of us has a role to play. Not someday, but today. It didn’t matter whether you became a rabbi, a lawyer, a teacher, or a real estate developer. He insisted we be bnei Torah and we be leaders.
The Power of Love
Rabbi Wein’s influence did not only come from charisma or status. It came from love.
A close friend of mine did not want to attend Shaarei Torah. One day, his mother told him, without warning, that he had an appointment with Rabbi Wein. He went reluctantly.
Rabbi Wein looked him in the eye and said:
“I understand you don’t want to come to our yeshiva.”
He sheepishly nodded.
Rabbi Wein responded: “You may find a yeshiva with better boys. You may find a yeshiva with better rebbeim. You may even find a yeshiva with a better rosh yeshiva. But you will not find a yeshiva where you will be more loved.”
That was who he was. And that is why so many of us, since his passing, have said:
“It feels like we have lost a parent.”
Avi, avi, rechev Yisrael u’farashav. My father, my father, Israel’s chariot and horsemen (Melachim II 2:12).
A Torah that Spirals Upward
Rabbi Wein was one of the rare figures who reached people across the spectrum of Orthodoxy and beyond. He connected through wit, warmth, and insight. As his son-in-law, Rabbi Yisrael Gettinger said so beautifully, he made Torah feel like a conversation rather than a lecture. His words were both timeless and timely.
He loved to tell the story of an elderly woman who cried every year during the Torah reading of Yosef’s brothers selling him into slavery. Each year she wept and said: “How tragic for brothers to sell one of their own.” But one year, she did not cry. Asked why, she replied: “The first year I cried for Joseph. The second year I cried for Joseph. But if by now he hasn’t figured out they’re going to sell him, I won’t cry anymore.”
Rabbi Wein used that story to remind us that Torah is not meant to be read as repetition. Each year we must return with new eyes, deeper heart, a changed self. His Torah was not a loop. It was a spiral, always rising.
Greatness Wrapped in Humility
Rabbi Wein lived as he taught.
He lived more in one lifetime than most could dream: community rav, dayan, rosh yeshiva, mechaber of sefarim, historian, intellectual, kashrut authority, author, lecturer, even lawyer and businessman. Yet he never saw these as titles. They were responsibilities. Gifts from Hashem to be used for Klal Yisrael. Cheylech le’orayta.
He made greatness approachable. Like a child aspiring to be like a parent. Not out of intimidation, but out of inspiration. So too Rabbi Wein made greatness feel attainable, because it was wrapped in humility, humanity, and genuine care.
Because he believed in us, we could believe in ourselves.
His Final Word: Positivity
Not long ago, I asked him what would become my final question:
“Rebbi, what does the Jewish world need most today?”
His answer was a single word:
“Positivity.”
That was not mere advice. It was his worldview. Rabbi Wein believed in the Jewish People and the Jewish future. Not because it was easy, but because it was Divine destiny. And because he believed it was ours to shape.
As his son, Rabbi Chaim Wein, said: if one had to summarize Rabbi Wein’s mission and life accomplishment in a single phrase, it would be chizakti et Yisrael. I strengthened the Jewish people.
The Legacy We Inherit
Through his shiurim, books, derashot, stories and presence, he gave us strength. He gave us inspiration.
He gave us ourselves.
Rabbi Wein did not just teach Torah. He showed us how to live it.
He did not just explain Jewish history. He showed us we were part of it.
And he did not just believe in the Jewish people.
He believed in us.
Now it is our turn to carry that belief forward.
Not as wanderers through time, but as builders of destiny.
Not as spectators of history, but as authors of its next chapter. Rabbi Wein reminded us that the chain of Sinai stretches into tomorrow.
And it is ours to extend.
May his memory be a blessing.
