"It was Moshe's `healing tongue,' that is, his retelling of all the wonders and miracles which Hashem performed for Israel, which made Yisro, the esteemed patriarch of his own family, decide to convert to Judaism and leave behind wealth, family and prestige, eschew civilization altogether and go into seclusion. It led him to the desert to seek protection under the wings of the Shechina as soon as he heard the miracles of the exodus." (Rabbenu Bechaye)
The power of the tale is immense. Storytelling is the transmission of experience, the reconstruction of emotions and atmosphere from one period to another. This is the meaning of `healing tongue' and its power to gather in a great person like Yisro to the Jewish fold" (R' Chaim Zeitchik).
R' Chaim refused to accept a steady position. He was unable to fit himself into a mold and adapt his ideas to that of the young generation of yeshiva students. This generation may have sought to ascend in Torah, but it did not crave and aspire it. They had the will, but not the total, all-embracing drive to achieve it. This generation wanted to serve their own interests of self indulgence on the altar of Torah; not to sacrifice themselves upon it.
Back there, in the frozen tundras of Russia, in Bialystok, Mezeritch and Botschatsch, they understood. There they burned with the awareness that if they fell short of their own expectations, in deed or even in thought, they were better off as victims of a Yevsektzi sharpshooter, for then they would have reached the ultimate perfection of reality.
Yeshivas flourish today, scholarship flourishes today. The world is filled with Torah literature, roshei mesivta and youths prepared to `sacrifice' a Thursday night of mishmar study for Torah. But no one hijacks trains for the one drop of lifegiving dew of spiritual resuscitation. Today, no yeshiva sits in mourning if one of its members opts to leave.
But that was Botschatsch, R' Chaim's yeshiva.
"If one student began faltering and began entertaining doubts, all of his friends would gather to encourage him and to plead with him, to entice him with all kinds of material and/or spiritual appeasements and incentives until he capitulated and agreed to remain in the camp of the Shechina. How great was the joy at such a time!" (R' Chaim Zeitchik: "To Remember the Miracle")
Novardok tells of a certain member of the group who decided to leave the yeshiva. Not a total spiritual abandoning, G-d forbid, but simply quitting Yeshivas Novardok and what it stood for in particular. In time, he began to realize what he had missed out on. He found himself able to return to Novardok , but the particular characteristic Novardok unrelenting fire would never be recaptured. And then he became ill and had to be hospitalized far from Bialystok...
The day that happened was erev Simchas Torah. Chaim Piotrkover cast everything aside, left the Bialystok court, left Simchas Torah, and went to spend the festival at the side of his comrade to bolster his spirit.
This simple event created shock waves that continued to ripple in the courts of Novardok for long after. Students who considered themselves mevakshim would look up to this example as the epitome of self-sacrifice, to be able to forego the very unique simchas yom tov of a Bialystok Simchas Torah in order to perform a kindness for a sick fellow student!
In the face of such courage and strength, even the steely, courage-hardened Novardoker had to bow his head in deep respect!
*
In Jerusalem, R' Chaim had a minyan of elite students. With the ushering of the Shabbos, this select group would rise to its feet and at the end of his talk and the prayers, would dissolve. This minyan had been created by R' Chaim Stuchiner (Shmuelevitz) and represented the essence of his life; it served as a channel for his talks.
He kept up this minyan to his very last Friday, even when the demon of his illness wrestled with him with outpoured wrath. On the morning of that last Friday, he parted with his disciples and thanked them feelingly for their having listened to his talks and reproof over the past dozens of years.
These students were an elite corps who could discern quality and differentiate between `blue' and `true-blue.' They were scholars of stature who could grasp his profound messages and who had the mental vistas to absorb the legend of Novardok and also possessed the internal acquiescence to accept reproof.
Reproof is such a delicate tool! It is the bridge between past and present.
He would chastise them with wrath, outpoured anger. Even distinguished Torah educators who came late to his Friday night talks were forced to apologize. Reproof was not a punishment but a signpost; it was an integral part of one's mission.
When Jews came to visit him during his illness, R' Chaim, the master in control of his emotions, would frigidly greet them: "First of all, where were you until now? Visiting the sick is no mere act of courtesy but an act of chesed. And to perform a kindness requires running, galloping!"
A devoted disciple who sacrificed himself in attending to him during his illness was also seared by his burning coals. R' Chaim would pick at all kinds of failings in his service and would rant at him in fury. R' Chaim was fully aware of his devotion, but reproof was not a mitzva bounded by time, nor could it be shunted aside due to one's gratitude... One could demand perfection even from one tending a critically ill person—and be the patient himself.
He didn't let live. He would dissect each disciple to pieces. In Novardok , this dissection was an important aspect. Someone once sat down and counted three hundred different fragments which resulted from Chaim Piotrkover's dissection. But he was equally adept at putting together the pieces and reconstruction a new entity.
He inherited the power of reproof from the Sharshover. Characteristic was a eulogy he held upon the shloshim of R' Chaim Stuchiner. Addressing an immense crowd representing the cream of the yeshiva world, he began thus:
"Ten years and thirty days have passed since the demise of our great master." He then explained, "The father of mussar circulated in your midst for ten years, but you distanced yourselves from his influence. You refused to bask in his light and absorb his fragrance or draw from his wellsprings. Ten years and thirty days have passed since that cloud of glory lifted from you..."
They said that R' Chaim used to visit Paris for the sake of escaping the atmosphere of complacency he found, for in Paris there still existed a small conclave of Novardokers. There, in the company of other yearners for achievement, he would remove his mantle, burst his shackles and belt forth with a lion's roar. He would harangue for hours on end, weeping, laughing, exulting, talking, until some degree of his bitterness would have been assuaged.
*
"How was it possible to count all the Jews in the desert in their great numbers as one counts objects?
"Anyone who begins counting Jews, must stop at the very first one and catch his breath to marvel at this wonder of Creation revealed before him... And if he comprehends just a fragment of his glory, he will only be able to stand dumb, overwhelmed. He will be so stunned by the grandeur he has exposed that he will be unable to continue counting" (R' Chaim Zeitchik: Ohr Chodosh— Bamidbar).
*
In one of his sharp word-pictures, he sought to define partaking in another's joy. R' Chaim maintained that this act had depth and scope, that is, full dimensions. Wishing a person `mazel tov' upon the birth of a son was a mere courteous mouthing and not participation in his joy. A `mazel tov' should be a concerted effort of joyous outpouring containing an elevating feeling which expresses all the good that has been done for the latter.
Emotion, just like the wrath of hefkeirus and of courage, served him as a building block and took on various shades. In the course of his talks, he would burst into bitter tears. There were other times when emotion inspired him to poetry and song. In moments of `my soul's desire' he would compose impromptu poetry and sing it with ecstatic bliss. His magic pen which endowed the world with twenty-three magnificent works, chants the song of Hashem on paper. Each written word is suffused with emotion and poetry.
For example:
"Here we are, the remnant few. What shall we express? How shall we pour forth our speech from the many waves of joy and weeping, before Hashem, from the springs of joy and the fountains of trembling which have accumulated deep in the folds of our yearning souls. From the time we were set apart through the straits of bondage and degradation, to freedom and the experience of happiness... we must summon up the strength to conquer all sorts of feelings surging and swelling within us..."
Or: "Whose heart does not turn into an orchestra playing and conducting [music] at the sight of the remnant which Hashem rescued?"
This admixture, one of the wonders of the mussar soul, left a strong impact on the internal world of mussar. They existed side by side: a steeled soul, forged in the crucible of Bialystok, gleaming with the light of poetry singing within in him, both plucking at his inner strengths to produce the music that poured forth and which constituted his unique brand of G-dly worship.
In his last days, when he was completely paralyzed, and chemotherapy had destroyed sensation, he could not feel or thank those who were tending him. Yet a delicate sensitivity still streamed in his dulled cognizance. And when ministering hands came near his mouth, he kissed them fervently in appreciation.
Someone from his group of disciples shared years of hidden suffering with him, but was blessed in time with a son. He came to R' Chaim to share the good tidings with him.
R' Chaim's face lit up with blazing radiance. This was a great moment in the life of this Novardoker's suffering. His measure of joy was now replete. He pressed the hands of the tidings bearer for a long time before he was able to express his own feelings:
"Why didn't you come and tell me immediately? As soon as your situation had changed for the good! Why? I have been feeling and suffering for you for years, praying for you for years! Day after day!"
This bounty of emotion gave birth to a deep joy in the beauty of life. Up till his final moment, when his illness mercilessly amputated any hope of recovery, he would marvel at the glory of life and would revel in every moment still at his disposal. If his mind could no longer concentrate on a passage in Maharal, then he could study a lesser taxing Chizkuni, and if that was beyond him, he resorted to the Yiddishe Shtral family magazine. And his magic pen still sang the song of life:
"And the living... and all the treasury of thought and poetry and communication with G-dliness still in his power!"
"He was altogether cognizant and moved by the glory of the world which he could grasp through his eyes and the gift of sight endowed by the Opener of blind eyes, from the pure air which he breathed into his being... that all his senses verily sang and played music, and his entire essence gushed up and surged forward..."
And:
"A mighty cry bursts forth from his being... and declares emphatically: Bless, my soul, Hashem! Hurrah! Hurrah! Am I not alive? Walking the land of the living? With my very hand I can touch the divine creation... and can rejoice indeed that it is truly a part of the everlasting life, yearning, rising, aspiring, moving..."
"And he feels as if he is standing at the navel of the world, embracing it in its entirety."
This realization, R' Chaim maintained, and the vitality which it generates, should echo and reverberate in the darkness of night.
"If a person should awake in the middle of the night, he should not become helpless and ineffectual but should gird himself with strength and joy and should thank Hashem in his mind for granting him life!" (Hameoros Hagedolim, 1953).
*
"Hashem showed Adam Horishon all future generations and their leaders... And He showed him that David was allotted no more than three hours. Adam felt sorry for him... and asked: How much time am I allotted? He said: One thousand years. Said [Adam]: Give seventy of my years to this star. What did Adam do? He brought a document and drew up a gift certificate. It was signed by Hashem, Satan and Adam... Said Adam: Ribono Shel Olam: This beauty, royalty and poetic gift are given to him in as a gift in the seventy years of his lifetime, so that he will be able to sing before You." (Yalkut Bereishis).
The Sheloh and the Rokeach explain that when the time came for Adam to die, he had regrets over his gift and sought to renege on it. "Is that what you think? But you promised! You asked to give it. Here is Hashem's signature [on the document]."
"Nevertheless, when he reached his end, he was suddenly consumed with an ardent desire to live on. At such a time, the yearning for life speaks for itself and there is no contradiction to what he said previously... The lust for life runs its own independent course and bursts forth from its own wellspring." (R' Chaim Zeitchik: Maayanei HaChaim, Part I).
End of Part 2
