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Believe in Me

A mechanech must believe in his talmid

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riting last week’s feature article about Rabbi Yosef Strassfeld z”l brought home for me just how central to the role of a mechanech is his belief in his talmid. I quoted Reb Yossi’s son as saying that what most defined his father was “his unshakeable belief in his boys. He’d tell them, ‘Just hold my hand and I’ll get you to the finish line. I can’t drag you, but if you’ll hold my hand, we’ll get to the finish line together.’ And he did.”

An oft-told story of his was about a young man in his Englewood yeshivah who felt he just would never succeed at learning, despite having been told otherwise by many of his previous rebbeim. The difference is that Reb Yossi didn’t argue with the boy; he acted, telling him, “We’re going to make a half-hour seder late at night and you’re going to see that you can make a leining,” and after six months of learning together, that’s exactly what happened. Afterwards, Rabbi Strassfeld said, “I’m not some kind of master kriah specialist. I just believed in him and showed him that he could.”

This is in line with a personal insight into the pasuk (Bereishis 14:14) that tells of how Avraham Avinu armed those he had trained, 318 of them, and set out in pursuit of the armies that had taken his nephew Lot captive. Rashi, citing Chazal, states that in reality, rather than numbering in the hundreds, the battalion that set out to free Lot from captivity consisted of all of two people, Avraham and his faithful servant, Eliezer, whose name adds up to a numerical equivalent of 318.

Granted that Chazal use gematria, albeit sparingly, to expound the Torah. But why did the Torah employ it here? Why, that is, didn’t the Torah say explicitly that it was Eliezer alone who accompanied his master into battle?

Rav Tzadok Hakohein of Lublin and Bnei Yisaschar both cite the axiom that when seeking the precise definition of a word or concept in Torah one must look to the context of its very first appearance in the Torah. In the case of the concept of chinuch, that first appearance is in this pasuk that states “Vayarek es chanichav.”

Perhaps the reason the Torah alludes to Eliezer using the numerical equivalent of his name is to convey the idea that Avraham had armed his disciple Eliezer with such bitachon in Hashem’s limitless power and concomitantly, such confidence in his own abilities based on the knowledge that Hashem is with him (after all, the name Eliezer, as we learn regarding Moshe Rabbeinu’s son, does connote the idea that “Elokei avi b’ezri”) that Eliezer felt he encompassed within himself the might of an entire 318-man brigade of fighters. That is what moved him to respond affirmatively to Avraham’s summons to join him in what would otherwise seem like a suicide mission, two men pursuing the armies of the Four Kings that not long before had defeated the armies of the Five Kings.

Avraham believed in Eliezer’s ability to succeed, and therefore he did. Such, this pasuk teaches, is the power of good chinuch — indeed, the essence of all chinuch.

It’s a lesson we learn from the very angels whose words we invoke every single day. When they call to each other as they recite Kedushah — “Vekara zeh el zeh v’amar, Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh Hashem Tzvakos” (Yeshaya 6:3) — the Radak explains that the first two times the angels utter Kadosh they are not referring to Hashem, but instead are addressing their fellow malachim. Each one of them seeks to rouse his fellow to sanctify Hashem by calling him by the appellation Kadosh, and reiterating it, Kadosh. In calling to his fellow angel, “Holy one, holy one,” he is telling him, effectively, “You are a holy being, and are thus capable of singing the praises of the ultimate Holy One.”

And a rebbi is to do the same with his talmid, appealing to his better self, calling forth the innate kochos that he sees within the young man.

Recently, I went to speak with a talmid chacham who is considered a talmid of one of the gedolei hador of the previous generation. But from my conversation with him it became apparent that although he learned in the yeshivah of that adam gadol and considered himself a talmid of his, he had not really had much interaction with him in learning.

Then it occurred to me: That adam gadol had learned in Slabodka and was himself a close talmid of the Alter. Although the Alter did not actually give shiur in his yeshivah, he established towering talmidim, forging a deep bond with each of them through his belief in them. He helped them identify their strengths and weaknesses and empowered each to find his individual path in Torah and avodas Hashem.

And this talmid chacham, too, in his relationship with the adam gadol who was the Alter’s disciple, had probably been the beneficiary of a similar approach, based on his rebbi’s belief in him.

Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 692. Eytan Kobre may be contacted directly at kobre@mishpacha.com

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