Rechov Chavakuk in Bnei Brak is a tight, winding road, almost too snug to fit my car. After parking semi-legally near number 20 (in this humidity, I am more than willing to risk a fine), I enter the building of the Modzhitzer chasidus and await the Rebbe’s gabbai. The beis midrash is outfitted with benches and tables and is in need of updating. I sit down and nervously try to recall the Modzhitz lineage that I reviewed a few days earlier. I am about to meet Rav Chaim Shaul Taub, the Modzhitzer Rebbe, and I don’t want to come across as foolish—or worse, ignorant.
Though this will not be my first time meeting a rebbe, it will be my first opportunity for a sit-down conversation with a rebbe, especially one of the Modzhitzer Rebbe’s stature and renown. The last time I had anything more than a quick brachah from a rebbe was when I was ten years old. I was in Antwerp for a cousin’s bar mitzvah, and after the seudah, my father took me to get a brachah from the Pshevorsker Rebbe, Rav Leibish. We waited our turn, and when it finally came at around 1:00 a.m., the Rebbe offered me a cookie. I had no idea what shirayim were, and I politely declined, stating, “Yasher koach, ich hub shoin gegessen—Thank you, but I already ate.” The entire room burst out in laughter. My father was mortified, but the Rebbe quickly reassured him. Ever since then, I have lived in fear of embarrassing myself in a similar fashion with another chasidishe rebbe.
Fortunately, I have a chance to gather my thoughts before a chasidishe yungerman enters the beis midrash and beckons for me to follow him. We exit the building and cross the street, where a large construction project is underway. According to the placard next to the site, this grand edifice is to be the new headquarters of Modzhitz, a chasidus that is world renowned for its music. To get to the Rebbe’s apartment, we venture through a specially built path directly underneath the right side of the new building. The door to the Rebbe’s apartment is nondescript. Inside is a small room where we wait for the Rebbe to finish with his current guest.
A REBBISHE KIND IN A LITVISH YESHIVAH
The Rebbe greets me warmly. “Don’t chap every word,” he says with a smile, as he motions for me to enter and sit to his right, putting my nerves at ease immediately. The Rebbe is sitting in a beautifully designed chair and the walls are lined with ornate sefarim shranks holding a large variety of sefarim: not only chasidus, Modzhitz, and other rebbishe Torah, but also rosh yeshivish Torah on Shas, indicative of the Rebbe’s formative learning years in Ponevezh. It is those years that I am particularly curious about, and I begin our conversation by asking about his time in the famed yeshivah.
“I was there from the time I was bar mitzvah age until I got married,” says the Rebbe.
“Meaning, prior to the Rebbe being bar mitzvah?” I interject. The Rebbe nods almost imperceptibly, as he tries to conceal his unusually young enrollment into Ponevezh. Rav Shach once told the Rebbe’s father, Rav Yisrael Dan, the previous Modzhitzer Rebbe, that when he noticed Rav Chaim Shaul’s absence during second seder one day, he suspected that he was getting engaged. “Ich fleg zitzen leben Rav Shach—I used to sit next to Rav Shach,” says the Rebbe. “He sat on a chair near our bench, and often, when he saw us thinking about the sugya, he would come over and ask us what our kushya was. Sometimes he would say, ‘Dos iz a gutte kushya’ and other times he would say, ‘Dus iz nit shver.’”
Why would a rebbishe kind attend a Litvish yeshivah? “In those days, there were not many chasidishe yeshivos around,” the Rebbe explains. “My father himself learned in Chabad under Rav Dovid Povarsky and Rav Shaul Bruk, who was the mashgiach at the time. Rav Shlomke Berman also learned there.” Rav Bruk was a very influential mashgiach who counted those two illustrious talmidim, as well as the famed Lubavitcher choizer Rav Yoel Kahn, among his students.
“When Ponevezh opened its doors, my father wanted to join the budding yeshivah,” the Rebbe says. “But Rav Dovid, who was extremely close to my grandmother and was like family to my father, asked him to remain in his shiur in Lubavitch, and of course my saintly father acquiesced.”
As the Rebbe converses, he exudes humility and kindness. The gabbai, not realizing that the Rebbe has not finished what he wants to say, adds something that the Rebbe once mentioned years earlier. The Rebbe patiently waits for the gabbai to finish speaking before going back to the subject of Ponevezh.
“In Tel Aviv, there was a kollel for rebbishe kinder led by Rav Shimon Langbord, a son-in-law of Rav Yaakov ben Rav Refoel Shapira, the rosh yeshivah of Volozhin. The Lelover, the Nadvorner and other rebbes learned there, but I went to Ponevezh,” the Rebbe says. Rav Langbord had a yeshivah called Geonei Volozhin as well as the kollel, both of which were in Bnei Brak.
The Rebbe explains that Rav Dovid’s relationship with the Rebbe’s father was another reason that the Rebbe went to Ponevezh. “At first, I learned by Rav Shlomke Berman, Rav Berel Povarsky and Rav Gershon Edelstein,” he says. “Those were the shiurim for the younger bachurim. After that, I learned by Rav Shach, Rav Dovid Povarsky and Rav Shmuel Rozovsky.” The Rebbe’s brilliance in learning was evident from his early days in Ponevezh. He started attending Rav Shach’s shiurim when he was around 15 years old, which was unheard of.
“Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman used to sit on a bench, not a chair, and by the tefillos I used to sit next to him and observe him davening with such joy. He used to sing Ein Keilokeinu to himself. A few years ago, I met him at an asifah, and before it began, we davened Minchah. After Minchah, Rav Aharon Leib saw someone crying while davening the Tefillas HaShalah, which is a tefillah for one’s children. Rav Aharon Leib said, ‘Farvus veinstu? Di tefillah darf men zugen b’simchah!—Why are you crying? Tefillah has to be said with joy!’ Fifty years later, the rosh yeshivah was still the same person, talking about tefillah b’simchah.”
The gabbai adds, “I once heard from Rav Sholom Ber Sorotzkin that Rav Shteinman considered the Rebbe to be his talmid.” The Rebbe laughs and replies, “One time, at one of Rav Sholom Ber’s kinussim, Rav Shteinman spoke. I was there as well. After his speech, Rav Shteinman came over to me and we exchanged warm greetings. When Rav Sholom Ber walked him out, he asked Rav Shteinman about my relationship with him, and Rav Shteinman responded that I am a talmid of his. Rav Sholom Ber was perplexed since Rav Shteinman had thousands of talmidim. Rav Shteinman smiled and said, ‘I had many rebbes who learned by me. Rav Chaim Shaul is the only one who officially calls himself a talmid.’”
Talking about the mehalech halimud in Ponevezh, I ask the Rebbe whether that is how he learns today. “In Poland, in Modzhitz, they probably learned the classic pilpul, but my father already adopted this mehalech,” the Rebbe answers. “I remember many years ago, I was learning the sugya of shibuda d’Rav Nasan, and I told my father an elaborate chiddush on it. My father said that Rav Dovid had already printed that chiddush in his sefer Yeshuas Dovid. My father was completely a Ponevezher when it came to the way he learned.” Rav Yisrael Dan was known to be an iluy, so it is not surprising that he instantly recalled a shtikel Torah from his rebbe’s sefer.
On his table, the Rebbe has a couple of gemaras and two or three other sefarim, but to his right, separating him from me, there is a small cart loaded with sefarim. The whole time I’ve been sitting here, I have been trying to sneak a peek to see which sefarim are there, and now I see a Nachalas Dan, the work of the Rebbe’s father and the name by which he is known. There is also a Chiddushei Rav Shmuel, the printed works of Rav Shmuel Rozovsky, whom the Rebbe felt was his rebbe in learning. The Rebbe still keeps up to date on the “new” sefarim from his rebbeim. “They keep publishing shiurim from Rav Dovid, zt”l, dividing his chiddushim into small shtiklach. This way, they are much easier to digest and require less focus.” The Rebbe sighs and adds, “A muhl, di oilam flegt lieben lernen lange shtiklach azoi vi di Torah fun Rav Shmuel—It used to be that people loved learning longer pieces like those found in Rav Shmuel’s shiurim, but now things have changed.”
The Rebbe reminisces about the differences in the actual shiurim from the Ponevezh roshei yeshivah. “Rav Shmuel looked at every sugya as if the entire Shas was laid out in front of him. Each shiur had to shtim with the others. If he had a chiddush in Bava Basra, then it had to fit with what he said in the same sugya in Bava Kama. Rav Shach, on the other hand—when he said a chiddush in one place and it contradicted something that he said in another place, he would simply say, ‘Dus iz der pshat du, and dus iz der pshat dorten—What I said here makes sense in the context of this sugya, and what I said elsewhere makes sense in the context of that sugya.’” The Rebbe smiles as he recalls the learning at Ponevezh.
THE MODZHITZ DYNASTY
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