Nissan 5780, April 2020
He is barely 31, yet many Torah scholars decades his senior look up to him as their rabbi | He does not belong to the Ashkenazi community, yet crowds of Chassidim and Litvaks flock to every one of his shiurim | He endured a childhood full of hardship, the son of struggling parents who wandered between Israel and Spain — and today, the leaders of the generation themselves make the effort to attend his packed shiurim and be inspired | The masses drink in thirstily the words of this wondrous young scholar, who has become an extraordinary Torah phenomenon | For the first time: the "Yanuka" of Rishon LeTzion, the Gaon Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda, reveals a glimpse of his life in conversation with Aryeh Erlich and Aharon Kliger | A prodigy from youth
By Aryeh Erlich and Aharon Kliger
The Long Wait for the Yanuka
We are standing in the deserted courtyard of a beautiful synagogue in Rishon LeTzion, with only a chorus of crickets crossing the empty streets of the town beside us.
These are the days of corona. Not a soul in sight. Not a single car passes. In the emptiness of our wait, we had plenty of time to study the well-tended greenery in the courtyard: aloe vera, and a few other tropical plants. Perhaps a remedy against corona. But the purpose of our visit here, it seems, is not materializing. Our hopes, we begin to fear, are about to be dashed. Any moment now a full lockdown will be declared, and the plan to meet the "Yanuka" will never leave the drawing board. As more time passed, we dug deeper to understand the wonder that has kept us waiting so patiently: crowds press into his shiurim, from every social class, every age group — including elderly Chassidim and learned Litvaks — while he himself has barely completed his third decade of life. His shiurim are unlike anything you've known: delivered with outpouring emotion, his eyes lowered throughout, quoting by heart from every corner of the Torah. At the close of the shiur comes a piano, and the Yanuka-Rav plays the keys with a delicate hand, carving out a soul-song that stirs the heart. There has never been a rabbi like this — not in age, not in style, not in mannerisms, and not in melody. Nor — the crowds who hang on his every word will insist — in the sheer breadth of his knowledge and the depth of his genius.
We had nearly given up on the long wait, when suddenly, like the redemption arriving unexpectedly, Rabbi Shlomo appeared. He walked in with dignity, accompanied by one of his students — a Torah scholar who, judging by age, could easily have been his father. We introduce ourselves. We've come from Jerusalem to speak with the Rav-Yanuka, we say. Though by now the Rav is not really a "yanuka" (infant) at all: he is thirty-one years old. But the name that took root in wide circles over a decade ago, when he was a young Torah prodigy about whom stories circulated of his mastery of the Torah's secrets in a manner unmatched for ages — branded him forever as the eternal "Yanuka." His gaze is calm, his speech quiet and shy. His eyes, for the most part, are lowered. His entire demeanor radiates seriousness and simplicity. This is the young man who shakes kingdoms, who "uproots mountains and grinds them" through sheer analytical brilliance. In Kiryat Sanz in Jerusalem, hundreds of distinguished people gather to hear his shiurim. The front rows at the shiur are reserved for Torah geniuses, rabbis, scholars, and elders who cluster around him. All of them are his students, listening with thirst to the teachings of one of the wonders that have grown in the gardens of Torah.
The wonder of the Yanuka's brilliance is magnified by the fact that he is an autodidact who breaks every convention — in his age, in his appearance, in the diverse identities of the many who gather around him, despite his name and his background, and also in something else important: his popularity soars despite the fact that he has never marketed any kind of "salvation" services, amulets, mystical matters, or their like. He runs from all that as if from fire, and is comprised entirely of Torah.
He draws on counsel and blessings. We accompany him to the dimly lit women's section of the synagogue. His study-partner sighs visibly with evident dissatisfaction, unable to understand why we've been given this shared learning session in the women's section of this secretive synagogue. A small nightlight is the only thing illuminating the women's section, as the Yanuka sits here, an ancient volume of Midrash Rabbah before him, teaching his study partner — who is older than he — the secrets of Torah.
We sit down: four shadows moving in the darkness of the women's section, his study partner, and us. The conversation flowed, and the result is one of the most unexpected documents you will ever read.
Corona Small-Mindedness We came to the Rav, we explained, to hear about the path to his growth in Torah: how one attains such a memory, how one arrives at diligent Torah study. People hear about this wonder — and want to know how a person can grow into a true Torah scholar. It would be of great benefit if the Rav would share this with us.
This introduction opened the door, and from there — it was a short road to the first personal conversation that anyone had ever managed to draw from the increasingly wise mouth of the wondrous Yanuka, the Gaon Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda. Not that it hadn't been attempted many times before — but it had never worked out for those who tried. His study partner signals signs of dissatisfaction, but in Rabbi Shlomo's own eyes, the hour was ripe to sit with us. This is a time of crisis. "I will make up to you the lesson you're missing," Rabbi Shlomo promised the distinguished man who had come to study with him — Rav Ben Tzur. In the coming hour, we would be exposed to a wondrous, hidden, and generous world.
We sat there a long while, beside the LED lamp, behind which the silhouette of the young Rav and wondrous genius could be seen, recording words of wisdom that no ear had heard before. Even the study partner, who had reconciled to the situation, grew increasingly more placable as the conversation progressed. "I have never heard the Rav speak like this," Rav Ben Tzur admitted afterward.
We are in a very difficult period altogether, with this whole matter of the Corona epidemic claiming tens of thousands of lives worldwide. People don't know what tomorrow will bring. How does one strengthen oneself in a time like this?
Rabbi Shlomo's face takes on an added seriousness: "Sometimes there are periods when one must serve the Holy One with 'small-mindedness' [mochin d'katnut]. Sometimes this is decreed upon an individual, sometimes upon a family, a city, a village, and sometimes even upon our entire generation. It seems people need to give thought to their purpose. To stop everything, to understand and examine our deeds. It is as if the Holy One is saying to the world: enough. 'The end of all flesh has come before Me' — the world has become corrupted with bad conduct. People think everything is permitted to them. They trust in their own wealth. They trust in their own lives. The world does not truly trust in Hashem.
"Once," Rabbi Shlomo continues, "a person would go out to the marketplace, asking Hashem to send him his livelihood, to bring down rain to water his field, to arrange for fish to come near enough for him to catch with his hook, to arrange for kosher fowl to come his way, to provide him a fine stone or precious pearl, that he might benefit from it. Today, a person doesn't pray for his livelihood out of total dependence on the Holy One, in a way that Hashem should save him. He relies more on the fact that he receives a salary every month, and checks how much is deposited in his bank account. People believe, because it is written that one must believe, but they don't actually experience that faith in their lives.
"'There is arrogance and pride among the creations,'" Rabbi Shlomo continues, sharing his outlook on the current state of affairs. "People think they know who the Holy One is and what the Torah is, everyone thinks they know, and then, suddenly, Hashem does something that no one can fathom: He shakes creation, casts fear and terror over the entire world in an instant. If we understand that we have no grasp of the Creator and don't know who He truly is, and we serve Him with simplicity and awe; if we look with honor upon everyone created in the image of Hashem and the gossipers among us diminish, and there is honor between one person and another and unconditional love — this coronavirus will be nullified with Hashem's help. I am small to speak in His name, but I merely think about what the Torah says. And this is how it seems correct to me." A Treasury of Wisdom (continued)
Rabbi Shlomo's flow of words gathers strength, and he tells us: "The holy Baal Shem Tov said: 'The Torah of Hashem is perfect [temimah].' Why is it called 'perfect'? Because no one has ever truly touched it [grasped it fully]. One must strengthen oneself in awe of Hashem and walk in simplicity. It is not right to speak presumptuously in His name. One may say what is written in the Midrashim, drawing on the language of our Sages, but one must not think we know the mind of the Most High.
"We need to arouse people and hold gatherings on the topic of unity," says Rabbi Shlomo, the Yanuka. "We spoke about this in the Chanukah shiur — to awaken honor between one person and another, and to put an end to those who speak slander [informers]. The flaw in honoring the image of God — I fear this is the root of all our problems and illnesses. The mouth of the slanderer, which our Sages compare to a murderer, has become a destructive force that corrupts the world.
"Perhaps there is a sign from Heaven here: the isolation period for those infected with corona is fourteen days, similar to the quarantine period in which the metzora [leper] afflicted with slanderous speech was examined. The metzora sat alone, outside the camp. We see that the outcome of this plague is a warning from health experts to distance ourselves from this behavior. Rabbi Akiva's students perished in a plague of suffocation because they did not treat each other with proper respect — we need to draw closer, each one to the soul of his fellow. To show a welcoming face to every image of God, unconditional love — to feel for the other and be attentive to his needs.
"This way," Rabbi Shlomo concludes, "we will nullify the coronavirus and all the decrees." Cradle A Lost Childhood in Spain It all began in Girona. A city in northeastern Spain.
Twenty-four years back. The narrow, colorful alleyways of the city's Jewish quarter came to know these small footsteps well. A seven-year-old boy, carrying with him volumes of Mishnayot and Rambam, with many bookmarks tucked inside a cloth pouch. Alongside the study texts — there were also biographies of Torah greats, whose ways he traced closely. He aspired to their level.
"His mother would prepare him a box of cut fruit to sustain him during long stretches at the synagogue far from their home. His parents would watch him from their window as he left the house toward the alley lined with archways and steps, until he disappeared from view like a figure out of a picture-book. And so it went until the end of Shabbat as well. From the morning meal — he would not leave the synagogue, those close to the Yanuka relate.
And so, until the local quorum would gather for Mincha and the third Shabbat meal — the Yanuka (for he truly was a "yanuka," an infant, at that time) would spend long hours in diligent study. He immersed himself in the words of the Tannaim and Amoraim, read the stories of the righteous, and their world filled his entire world.
Rabbi Shlomo was born in Israel, in the year 5748 (1988). His parents waited many years for the day they could sing "with a good sign, a son has come to us; in his days may the Redeemer come." And when the salvation came — there was no limit to their joy. He was named for his two grandfathers, Shlomo and Yehuda.
His grandfather, Rabbi Shlomo, was the grandson of Rabbi Ye'ish — one of the great sages of Yemen. For decades he studied together with Moreh Yichya Bassis. When he immigrated to Israel he studied together with the son of the "Baal HaShad'ah" — the sainted Rabbi Shaul Dweck HaCohen, of blessed memory, one of the great Kabbalists of Jerusalem, with whom his grandfather was also related by marriage. His maternal grandfather, R' Yehuda, immigrated from Aleppo, Syria, while his grandmother belonged to the Balanga family of Spain.
Around the Yanuka, people tell of his grandmother Naomi, a righteous woman who poured out many prayers to merit a grandson. Once he was born, her joy knew no bounds. She would say that this child was destined for greatness, and always warned: "Watch that the head covering never comes off this child, even for a moment." They also tell of the grandmother's difficulty accepting that her grandson would be named something other than the name of her husband, Rabbi Shlomo, who had been her entire world. In his memory and merit, she saved all her money and built a synagogue. "I prayed for this grandson," she said, "I want Shlomo to be his name." His mother, on the other hand, would not give up her wish that the boy be named for her father, Rabbi Yehuda. In the end a compromise was reached: Shlomo-Yehuda. And to this very day — the Gaon Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda sees one of the purposes of his life as fostering peace between one person and another.
Great poverty was always the family's lot. Later in the conversation, Rabbi Shlomo would tell of his parents' impoverished, difficult years, during which the only toy ever bought for him in his childhood was a keychain with a small lamb-shaped charm. His unconventional childhood, he says, forced him to adapt to a complicated reality. Since he also did not speak the Spanish language, he grew up without friends. Books were his only companions.
His father was injured during the Lebanon War, suffered from total hair loss, and dealt with additional health issues. He therefore found his only comfort in his diligent son. The Talmudic saying "Be careful with the children of the poor, for from them Torah issues forth" was fulfilled in this family, and Rabbi Shlomo Yehuda's growth in Torah occurred precisely out of hardship and want. At home, he was given a small room with a window facing an overgrown, unkempt view and a green expanse — which became a source of inspiration for his self-taught, solitary learning. In later years he would relate that he spent much time reading stories of the righteous, all of which left a deep and lofty impression on him.
The boy would often cry out of longing for the righteous figures he read about, and from his intense desire to connect with and understand what they had written and composed. And when asked from where he acquired such a wondrous power of memory, he would say: "A thing that a person loves — he can never forget." He would also say in his shiurim: "Do you think the Tannaim and Amoraim studied Torah merely in order to know it and remember it? Not only for that. They studied Torah with tears in their eyes; with a heart full of concern not to miss even the smallest detail, and not to deviate a hairsbreadth from the Supreme Will — the will of the Holy One. Studying the mitzvot of the Torah, yearning to fulfill them, and pondering them — these are a kind of prayer to Hashem. When a person studies this way — the Torah endures within him." The family's wanderings during the childhood of this young Torah genius were many. They returned to Israel intermittently, moved to Seville in Spain, lived at various times in Switzerland, Germany, and other countries. Wherever they went, relatives who remember him as a child recount, the Yanuka sought out the beit midrash. In Jerusalem and in Zurich, in Berlin and in Girona — the four walls of the study hall were the one stable ground in his world.
Were it not for that — he would long ago have been lost in his poverty.
Growth Learning Out of Hardship Having heard about Rabbi Shlomo's exceptional diligence even as a young child, we asked him to unravel the secret: how does it happen that a child, at an age when his friends are playing with toys, turns all his focus to diligent Torah study? To our surprise, Rabbi Shlomo did not turn away our question outright. It seems that if Torah is Torah — one must study it. Rabbi Shlomo agreed to teach us.
"From the age of eight or nine, the thought that has accompanied me is: what happens when the Tanna opens with 'From when may one recite the evening Shema?' Tannaim and Amoraim all debate exactly which precise moment one must recite the Shema. This is, after all, the very beginning of studying the Talmud — the beginning of the Mishnah. When you look at the entire Talmud — you must try to connect with the holy Amoraim. To understand what they saw with their eyes. What they touched. What they contemplated.
"They feared the Holy One, and therefore they debated how to fulfill His will truly and precisely. When exactly to recite the Shema and in what manner. They experienced something. They lived within a certain awe, and out of that contemplation — they 'weighed and considered,' and thus the Talmud was created. They did not study Torah merely to know, to understand, and to remember, but did so out of a fearsome sense of awe — out of a desire not to deviate a hairsbreadth from the will of the Creator."
How does an eight-year-old child arrive at such insights? If we recall correctly — at age eight, we were bouncing balls...
"A difficult life brings a person to introspection," Rabbi Shlomo tells us candidly. "For me it was the result of sorrow, hardship, poverty, troubles. I would sit at six in the evening and see darkness. Snow falling outside. I was alone. I would see there was no food at home, and we had to move constantly from city to city. My parents had no money and didn't tell me about it. This brought me to live with a different mindset.
"Since I've had awareness — from age three or four — I have spent much time gazing at the sky and the stars. Even today, there isn't a day or night when my eyes aren't drawn upward to the heavens. I make sure to always be near a window. Wherever I am — I want to be close to a window. We learn from the prophet Isaiah that lifting one's eyes to the heavens is something the Jewish people must do in every generation. When we look downward or backward — we fall. As happened with Lot's wife. Looking upward will always bring a person to see that he lives for something loftier. 'Know what is above you.'" The moment when his greatness in Torah began to blossom is marked by his students (many of whom, incidentally, are considerably older than him) as the period before his bar mitzvah, when he had returned to Israel. "There was a memorial gathering," they relate, "and they were looking for someone to say a Torah thought in honor of the deceased. His father asked him to speak before the assembly, and he agreed, out of respect for his father. It turned out to be an extraordinary revelation. The boy lowered his gaze to the ground and searched for the right words. The talk began as a trickle, and turned into a flowing spring. People were stunned.
"There was a total contrast between the thin, pure voice — and the depth of content, fitting for a scholar advanced in years," they describe in the Yanuka's inner circle. "Those who remember that first occasion describe how the young Shlomo wove profound Torah insights, swimming through the sea of Torah, from Scripture and Talmud to Midrash, quoting each source in its precise place. His father, of blessed memory, related that at that moment he sat at the back of the synagogue and covered his face, to hide the flood of tears that streamed down." From then on he was asked to deliver Torah thoughts on many occasions, and by age fourteen he was already delivering Talmud shiurim before adults. The shiurim were extraordinary, and from then on he was given the nickname "the Yanuka" — for being a genius in Torah with an immense breadth of knowledge despite his young age (a well-known title, first given in the Zohar, and later in Chassidic literature, to souls that had already shown extraordinary Torah greatness from childhood).
A Piano in the Lesson During his teenage years, another trait began to emerge in Rabbi Shlomo — one unique to his singular presence among Torah scholars: a special connection to the world of music. "This is what happened," a close acquaintance tells us. "One day the sound of music reached his ears from someone playing a grand piano. The melodies captured his heart, and he developed a great desire to learn to play. From that time he began praying about it. When he came home, he asked his mother if she could get him a simple piano. His mother was moved by his request and made an effort to fulfill his wish. The day the piano arrived — he was overjoyed. After just three hours sitting at the piano — he had already managed to draw several nice melodies from it. Later he also learned to play the harmonica.
"'And grant me to feel the sanctity of holy music, and may holy melodies always play within me, that will awaken me and all of Israel to You, blessed be Your Name' — this is one line from among many prayers that Rabbi Shlomo later composed about the topic of music." To this day, every Torah shiur he gives ends with a musical, joyous segment, after he completes some tractate of study. Some of the melodies he composed himself. Part of the melodies Rabbi Shlomo tends to play before the crowd of his listeners are in the classic Chassidic style. He sees in music a tool to awaken people's hearts.
We asked Rabbi Shlomo: what is the place of melody in the service of Hashem?
"This is a very important matter," he answered. "Music connects a person to his true root. When a person doesn't play music and doesn't sing, and in general, when he isn't connected to music — he is missing an important part of the service of Hashem. Why was Saul suspicious of King David? The inner reason is that Saul saw that David possessed the secret of music. He saw that through the power of music, King David was able to drive away the evil spirit. He was envious of David over this.
"They once asked the holy Rebbe, Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz, of blessed memory, about a certain man of whom it was said that he possessed Torah, and performed wonders, and appeared to have the holy spirit, but no one knew whether he came from a pure source. Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz said they should check if he had a connection to music. If he had music in him — he is holy of holies, from the side of sanctity. If he had no connection to the world of music — know that he is not from the side of sanctity. They went to that man and played music before him on a violin, and he immediately asked them to stop the music. When they told this to Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz — he said one should distance oneself from this person. Music connects the Jewish people to their root, to their elevated place, to their truth.
"When a person dances or plays music," Rabbi Shlomo adds, playing for us the melody of his life, "he reveals his joy, the simplicity of his heart. The Tannaim and Amoraim danced at the Rejoicing of the Water-Drawing and at wedding celebrations — and through this revealed their inner selves. When a person doesn't dance, or isn't joyful, or doesn't love music — he is hiding himself. Music can reveal the inner essence of a person and bring him to his own truth." We once heard an explanation of the Book of Esther, that at Achashverosh's feast everything was present except musical instruments, since Achashverosh knew that if music were played at his feast — the Jewish people would remember the Levites' music and be aroused to repentance.
"Correct," Rabbi Shlomo confirms, and as always — instantly draws the source: "This is brought in the 'Yalkut Me'am Lo'ez.' The reason is the same: music has an immense power to arouse a person with longing for his Creator, and to arouse Hashem Himself, through memories and longing for the music of the Levites, thereby hastening the building of the Beit HaMikdash." Revelation A Secret Study Partnership with His Teacher One of the hidden stories along Rabbi Shlomo's path of growth is the secret study partnerships he used to maintain in his youth.
As a young man, Rabbi Shlomo studied together with Moreh Gadalya Chaim, who had immigrated some years earlier from Yemen. Chacham Gadalya, who was greatly learned in Torah, was 65 years older than Rabbi Shlomo — which did not prevent the elderly Yemenite teacher from treating the young prodigy with reverence, and indeed, according to those close to Rabbi Shlomo, he later called him "my teacher and rabbi." In the following years he began to become known among circles of Torah scholars in Jerusalem. It is told here that the head of the Beit Din of the Eda HaChareidis, the posek Rabbi Moshe Halberstam, of blessed memory, used to enjoy studying with him and encouraging him toward greatness, as did Chacham Avraham Chai, who used to visit him. By the time Rabbi Shlomo was eighteen — a shiur was established in Jerusalem to which many Torah scholars flocked. The phenomenon began to become known, and even the media took interest. One day a media crew arrived to film the shiur; when Rabbi Shlomo, who was teaching before the crowd, saw this — he asked to dim the lights in the synagogue, so that no evil eye would take hold.
The photographers succeeded only partially in their journalistic mission, and from then on — Rabbi Shlomo has avoided the media as one avoids fire. When asked once about his preference to avoid being photographed — he explains that he holds to the view of the Ritva, cited in the responsa "Divrei Malkiel" by the Gaon Rabbi Michael Tzvi Tenenbaum. He writes there that it is better not to be photographed without reason. Even in our own conversation with him, when the magazine's photographer wished to do the work for which he had made the trip from Bnei Brak — Rabbi Shlomo's agreement came only with great difficulty. He lowers his eyes, and thus, under dim conditions unsuited for photography, the somewhat unusual documentation of one of the rare meetings we were granted to have took place.
Rabbi Shlomo's shiur at the large synagogue in Kiryat Sanz in Jerusalem is packed, literally, with thousands. Prominently present are rabbis and judges who sit in deference before the young scholar who has become a phenomenon embodying the Talmudic saying "a father in wisdom though young in years." When he enters, everyone rises to sing "may You add days upon the days of the king" — elders alongside young men, in honor of the Torah. Some of those present have been coming for over a decade, receiving his Torah since he was eighteen years old. This scene seems taken straight from legend: we've heard of child prodigies with beautiful voices whom people come to hear; but a Torah teacher astounding in his genius, with elderly Torah scholars gathering around him as students before their master — this, it seems, is a phenomenon taken from the history books.
We asked Rabbi Shlomo: many people, especially young students, feel heartbroken that they are unable to remember what they've learned. What path can a person take so that his learning becomes etched onto his heart?
"The solution is one," the young genius replies, "to connect to the learning down to the depths of the soul. Any person who does something out of a feeling of love — remembers it well. If something happens to frighten or distress a person — he will remember that very day, that time, and that place where it happened, as if it occurred just now. When we look at the language of our Sages and understand with what poverty, fear, awe, purpose, and thought they studied — these things cause fear and awe of Hashem, and this brings us to remember things in a way that is etched into every layer of the soul and mind.
"When a person studies," Rabbi Shlomo emphasizes, "he must understand that he is reading the loftiest and most awesome thing in all of creation. And when a person reads it this way — he will not forget the Torah." Pride Not to Dominate Others We try to enter the mind of a Torah scholar who has just completed his third decade of life, with thousands of people, including elders and dignitaries, revering him and drinking in his every word. We chose to pose the question directly to Rabbi Shlomo, in the hope of receiving an answer that would give us insight into his inner world.
A person who remembers so much Torah can naturally arrive at feelings of pride, since he has attained what most people in the world never do. How can one be saved from this?
"Pride is a concept that belongs to fools, or to those who haven't studied properly. The more a person truly studies — the more he understands how great and awesome the Holy One is. Awesome beyond awesome. And this understanding brings him to humility and lowliness of spirit. It is written in Tractate Ta'anit, page 7, that when a person studies Torah in order to provoke others and be arrogant — the Torah becomes for him 'a potion of death.' That is to say, if a person studies Torah in order to demean someone else through it, or to attack someone else's opinion — it would be better for him not to study at all.
"On the other hand, when a person studies Torah in order to fulfill the will of the Creator, what does he have to be proud of? One should say: 'Master of the world, I study Torah not in order to sit in the Garden of Eden and not in order to receive reward, not in this world and not in the next, but only in order to give You satisfaction.'" But the way of the world is that Torah scholars inherit honor. How does one avoid the temptation of pride?
"Honor for Torah is an important thing, and fortunate is one who merits to honor those who study Torah. But I don't think anyone has the right to exploit his position in order to profit from it. If people accept Torah from someone and, because of that, become willing to do things for him — it is better that he forgo it. If the Holy One grants a person authority or leadership — he must use it in order to bring people closer to Him. Not in order to dominate others, not in order to feel superior to people, and certainly not in order to exploit them. It is very serious to do so." You represent a world of Torah study, but nowadays there is a widespread phenomenon of "gurus." Many people flock to their courts to receive charms and amulets. How does one distinguish between someone whose blessings come from the power of Torah and those who have no trace of Torah in them?
"This phenomenon is painful," says Rabbi Shlomo. "Those whose inside doesn't match their outside — not only will they fail to help those who turn to them, they will implant destructive ideas within them. I have heard many times of cases like this, of many dishonest people who call themselves by such titles, who taught things that are the opposite of Torah. Things that contain heresy, that are truly capable of severing people from the Torah of Israel. That's why it's most important to go only to a place where there is Torah and truth." And how can one know where there is Torah and truth?
"The only way is to pray about it. When a person wants to draw close to the righteous and to the path of truth — if he doesn't pray, what will lead him there? The 'Bnei Yissaschar' of Dinov, of blessed memory, and all the great righteous ones wrote about this. See the book 'She'erit Yisrael,' written by the holy Rabbi Yisrael Dov of Vlednik, of blessed memory. In 'Sha'ar HaHitkashrut' he writes that a person must ask his Creator to merit finding a true tzaddik — even more than he must pray to find his marriage partner. If a person doesn't pray and doesn't ask to be guided from Heaven — I strongly doubt whether he will arrive at the path of truth or anything else in life. I am small to say so, but that is what I think. After a person prays — he sees tangibly how he is drawn closer to the truth." Outlook Studying in Clean Clothes At the age of twenty, Rabbi Shlomo married. His wife's family is related to the defender of Israel, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, of blessed memory. Many rabbis and dignitaries attended his wedding. To date they have had three children, may they multiply, whom he sends to Torah institutions in a nearby city.
In the years since he became known, the young Rav has delivered hundreds of unique shiurim — on every Torah topic requested of him. His associates emphasize that "there was never a single shiur that repeated itself." In the investigative work we did before our moving meeting with Rabbi Shlomo — we were told by rabbis and Torah scholars who testified about him that they questioned and tested him on every area of Torah, and to every question he was asked, he answered immediately: precisely stating the matter, its reasoning, and its sources, without the aid of any book. A wondrous phenomenon.
Many of his shiurim open with a discussion with the audience about which topic they wish to address. From there, Rabbi Shlomo opens with a response that slowly develops into deep innovations and secrets of Torah — full of surprising insights, profound patterns of thought, and the elevated wisdom of the elders. The breadth of his horizons across the expanse of Torah — this is what has captured hearts and drawn the crowds to his shiurim, from every circle and community.
His shiurim are attended primarily by Torah scholars, led by well-known rabbis. The shiur contains citations and hundreds of source references from every part of the Torah, quoted by him by heart with astonishing precision, weaving thread through thread, until a complete Torah picture emerges, like a bud fitting perfectly into a flower.
His thinking is clear. He speaks fluently, without confusion, and on every topic his approach is orderly, even if at times surprising in its originality.
Another thing we noticed as we sat before him: his simple dress — clean and neat. Later it became clear to us that Rabbi Shlomo sees cleanliness of appearance as an important foundation in the service of Hashem; he speaks and quotes extensively from sayings about the cleanliness of the body, clothing, and home, all of which are, he says, a garment for the soul. "Cleanliness of body and clothing is an extra obligation when a person approaches any holy service," Rabbi Shlomo maintains. He also strongly recommends keeping an organized personal diary and a planned daily schedule, setting goals and objectives in every area in which a person wishes to forge a path in the service of Hashem and connect to the Divine Presence.
The comprehensive understanding, the memory that seems extraordinary by any measure, together with the profound messages and penetrating insights — capture many hearts. These are woven together with a humility that suffuses his face, to the point that he lowers his eyes when speaking with anyone who comes into his presence.
We asked Rabbi Shlomo: when a person sits down to study — how should he divide his day among the different areas of Torah?
"The most important thing is Halacha," Rabbi Shlomo maintains. "Halacha is the most important thing, particularly in our generation, so that it should not be 'forgotten from the mouths of his descendants.' The holy Rabbi Meshulam Feibush of Zbarazh, of blessed memory, explains this in the way of serving Hashem, saying: 'Halacha' comes from the word 'walking' [halicha]; when you study Halacha — you are walking toward Heaven, you are walking toward Hashem's path. A person who studies Kabbalah but doesn't know Halacha will stumble on Shabbat in Torah and Rabbinic prohibitions. A person who studies Halacha will understand the tangible fear of Heaven that the great ones of previous generations had. The 'Magen Avraham' wrote his rulings on the walls of his house, due to his poverty. One must know that the study of the righteous was done with total dedication." The Secret "I Was Lonely in My World" We ask forgiveness in advance for the personal tone, but we wish to ask: how did the Rav acquire all his Torah knowledge? Is this a particular form of genius? How does one arrive, at so young an age, at such vast knowledge? Slight signs of embarrassment spread across his face — yet he doesn't lose his composure for even a moment. Rabbi Shlomo: "If you're asking me what I always think about — the answer is that I think about love for the Holy One. My years of loneliness brought me to a great closeness to Him. Praying to Him and thinking about Him — that is what brought me to toil in Torah." The Rav speaks of loneliness as something that led to growth in Torah, and we wish to ask: can loneliness be seen as a recipe for growth? Could it be that when a person is in the company of other people — that could be a factor that hinders spiritual ascent and diligence?
"People can absolutely disconnect a person from the Holy One — even more than the evil inclination can," Rabbi Shlomo replies. "The holy Baal Shem Tov says that if a person looks upon the face of someone who is not attached to the Holy One — this can harm his soul. Not only in the case of a wicked person — but even in the case of someone who simply isn't connected to Hashem, who doesn't think about Hashem. At the same time, one needs the learning that comes from studying Torah with a study partner, but there must be unity and love between them.
"It is like the saying: 'Two who sit together and there are no words of Torah between them...' What does 'between them' mean? It should have said 'and they do not occupy themselves with Torah.' We once learned in a shiur that 'between them' means that they do not connect the Torah between themselves. It's in the style of: I say a Torah thought, you say a Torah thought, but there's no shared feeling with the Torah. Each one says the Torah is his own and wants others to see what he knows. Throughout the generations, the righteous did not show us how much Torah they knew. Rather, through their Torah and their genius, they gave us the tools to be even greater than them and to elevate ourselves further. This is why it says 'there are no words of Torah between them.'" What advice is there for someone who simply doesn't have much desire to study — someone who needs to tear himself away from the vanities of this world in order to sit down at a page of Talmud?
"First of all," Rabbi Shlomo lays out his approach, "our Rabbeinu the Rambam already ruled — there is no exemption from Torah study, everyone is obligated in it. At the same time, whatever a person does or learns, at whatever level he is on — it is precious to Hashem. Every person must fulfill this first at his own level, according to his own matters. For example: a person who needs to engage in business — should conduct his business honestly, should study the laws of interest, or study the laws of charity, and do whatever he can according to his level. He must examine his abilities and strengths, and accordingly find an order suited to that level. And when the time comes that he has broader understanding — he should ascend gradually.
"There's the person who prays with intention. If you're devoting yourself to prayer — then pray with even more intention; recite your blessings at home with more intention. Say to Hashem: 'Perhaps I will not merit to be the Vilna Gaon and study twenty-four hours a day, but the blessings and prayers I say I say with intention; while eating I will think of You; I will do what is within my power.' Whatever you do with your ability — that is your unique contribution. The Holy One does not want a person to be at a level that isn't his own." My Young Rebbe The Chazzan R' Chaim Eliezer Herstik Tells of His Closeness to the "Yanuka" Forty years separate the world-renowned chazzan R' Chaim Eliezer Herstik from Rabbi Shlomo, the "Yanuka" of Rishon LeTzion. Nevertheless, Herstik, age 70, who over the years has been close to many of the great figures of Israel, frequently makes his way to sit in Rabbi Shlomo's presence, to imbibe his Torah, and to defer to him as a student before his master.
We ask him to help us understand this phenomenon, and Herstik relates: "When I first arrived at the Yanuka's shiur — a sight I had never witnessed unfolded before my eyes. I imagined I had gone back hundreds of years. I saw before my eyes an image that we only knew from books. The fear of Heaven and the grace that suffused his face made my heart skip a beat. Before him sat hundreds of students and Torah scholars, waiting with excitement and holy trepidation to hear the weekly shiur and ask their questions." Herstik continues: "After a halachic shiur delivered by one of the rabbis — the Yanuka arrived, an exalted grace upon his face. Accompanying him was Rav Mordechai Shefer, the well-known attendant of the Rebbe of Lelov, of blessed memory, whose task is to guard the Rav's steps from the crowd that tries to press forward and approach before the shiur.
"He began to deliver a Torah lecture woven together from hundreds of sources, from every part of the Torah, quoting the precise source by heart. When asked various questions on various and diverse topics — he answered immediately and fluently, citing sources and precise references relevant to the topic from every corner of Torah: Scripture and Midrash, Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud, early and later commentators, responsa literature, Zohar, books of Kabbalah, works of Lithuanian sages, Chassidic writings, and many rare books — all cited precisely in their original language.
"This wonder captured my heart. Since then I make sure to attend his shiurim as one among thousands, and I experience a spiritual experience that is hard for me to put into words." The Amulet In the Way of the Rogatchover Throughout the conversation we notice a kind of amulet lying before Rabbi Shlomo's eyes — a stamp-sized picture that, from across the table, looked to us like a picture of one of the mystics who grew among the sages of the East.
Who is that in the picture? we ask.
Rabbi Shlomo shows us the picture. We are surprised to see, revealed before us in full glory, the image of the mighty Gaon Rabbi Yosef Rozin, of blessed memory, known as the Rogatchover.
What is the significance of the Rogatchover's picture?
"I carry a picture of the Rogatchover with me all the time," Rabbi Shlomo shares with us regarding his personal practices. "I love him very much, I feel very connected to this tzaddik. I usually keep this picture with me, and so it doesn't get lost or fall — I place it on the table during study time." On the other side of the picture, the Rav had printed the words "L'Menatze'ach BiNeginot" ["To the conductor, with music," from Tehillim], in the shape of a menorah.
We still don't fully understand the significance of the Rogatchover's picture. Is there some special quality [segulah] to it? we add.
"The Rogatchover is a symbol of love for Torah. Despite all his renowned genius, he once arrived at a synagogue and was asked to deliver a sermon. He said: 'I don't know how to learn.' That's the Rogatchover.
"Many rabbis came to be tested by the Rogatchover," Rabbi Shlomo adds. "When he himself came to the Rav of Brisk (the 'Beit HaLevi') — he saw himself as one who had still not mastered the entire Shulchan Aruch. The Rav of Brisk told him that as long as he did not know the entire Shulchan Aruch — he would not grant him rabbinic ordination. The Rogatchover said to him: 'Give me a month and I'll return, and then you can test me on the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud.' He presented himself as a simple man, in order to receive the ordination." The Rogatchover was known to be very sharp in his responses, with little patience for the unlearned.
"That's true, but there are other examples too. Once a man came to the Rogatchover, and the Rogatchover granted him rabbinic ordination. Afterward, someone asked him questions — and it turned out he didn't know how to answer. These people couldn't understand how the Rogatchover had given him ordination. They came to ask about this, and the Rogatchover told them: 'I asked him a question and he gave me exactly the answer I wanted to hear.' They asked him: 'What was the answer?' And the Rav replied: 'To my question he answered that he doesn't know the answer, but with Hashem's help, when a practical matter comes before him — he will ask the rabbi in his town, who will certainly know'...
"And the Rogatchover explained: 'When I ask someone and he says — "I don't know," "I need to look into it," "I need to think about it" — I can give him ordination, because I know he will investigate the halacha properly. But when I ask a person and he tries to give me answers from various places — incorrect or imprecise answers — such a person cannot be given ordination.' And about such people, he would shout, calling them 'ignoramuses,' and speak against them in sharp terms.
"We also find regarding the Rogatchover," says the one whose image he adopted as his teacher and master eighty-four years after his passing, "that the Rogatchover was utterly deferential to the Rambam. He called him his teacher and master. There are several places where he writes in his novellae: 'With apologies to the honor of the Rambam, I am but dust beneath his feet, but the halacha follows my opinion and not his.' He would dismiss the commentators on the Jerusalem Talmud, saying that none of them had gotten it right, 'and only I understand the Jerusalem Talmud.' That's how he would put it: 'Only I understand the Jerusalem Talmud.'" Interestingly, contrary to the common assumption, the Rogatchover was counted among the Chassidim.
"That's correct. He came from a Chassidic family, and as a child he studied under the 'Tzemach Tzedek' of Lubavitch, of blessed memory. He did not want to waste time from Torah and didn't have time to go to a barber." The 'Tzemach Tzedek' told him: 'Study Tractate Nazir,' and because of this he never cut the hair on his head as a child.
Shiurim "A Lofty and Immense Soul" We asked Rabbi Shlomo: what is the place of Chassidus in the order of study?
"Chassidus doesn't need to be in the learning — it needs to be in life," says Rabbi Shlomo. "It needs to be present when one leaves any synagogue for a study hall, and from any study hall to a synagogue. Chassidus is meant to cause a person to carry his learning forward into life." The holy Rabbi Shlomo of Lutzk (also known by the title "the Maggid of Skahl"), author of "Divrat Shlomo," of blessed memory, said that the difference between the Baal Shem Tov and the Arizal is that the Arizal wanted a person to ascend to Heaven, but the Baal Shem Tov brought the heavens down to earth. Faith in the sages — that a person should have faith in his own sages, believe in his own path, and believe in what he is doing. "And that is what connects him to his own spiritual dimension." The first years of Rabbi Shlomo's residence in Rishon LeTzion were marked by an avoidance of publicity. To this day he prays at an ordinary local synagogue and sits in one of the corner seats there. But in the last two years there has been a notable flocking to the synagogue, and his shiurim draw crowds of locals, alongside many who travel from across the country to the city. As a result of the urging of Torah scholars and several of the great figures of Israel — Rabbi Shlomo has begun to give a shiur in Jerusalem as well, where thousands crowd at the gates of the study halls.
One of the astonishing phenomena is the participation of great Torah scholars in the young Gaon's shiurim over the years — even before he turned thirty. Among those seen attending his shiurim: member of the Council of Torah Sages, the great Gaon Rabbi Shimon Baadani; the Gaon Rabbi Moshe Mordechai Karp; the Kabbalist Rabbi David Batzri; and other rabbis, judges, and heads of yeshivot. Students relate with excitement that some of them even recited the blessing "who has given of His wisdom to those who fear Him" upon him.
One of the students of the Kabbalist Rabbi Sarya Deblitzky, of blessed memory, remarked about him: "I found what Rabbi Sarya searched for his whole life. For the Rav, of blessed memory, wrote: 'We need someone great who will unify all parts of the holy Torah, and due to our many sins we have no such orphaned figure in our generation.' And now," said the student of the Kabbalist from Bnei Brak, "we have merited such a gift. A Torah scholar who knows every part of the Torah in all its branches, and connects all of the Torah and all the great figures of Israel and their teachings from every stream. This is an immense wonder and marvel that Hashem has given us as a gift." His students also relate statements by great figures of Israel about him describing a "wondrous soul," and that the Gaon Rabbi Ovadia Chadad, of blessed memory (who used to study with the Steipler Gaon, of blessed memory) said of him: "A soul of such a Torah scholar — this is a great salvation for Israel." We are exposed to the testimony of many great figures of Israel who praise him highly. For example, the Gaon Rabbi Moshe Mordechai Karp, of the rabbis of Modi'in Illit, calls him: "Unique and singular in our generation, master of the entire Torah. A vessel for receiving Torah about whom one can say, as Rabbi Levitas of Yavneh said: 'Be exceedingly humble of spirit.'" In the name of the Gaon Rabbi Shmai Gross, it is told that he said of him that he is like a "living Torah scroll," while the Gaon Rabbi Amram Opman, halachic authority of the Eda HaChareidis and one of the rabbis of "Shaar HaShamayim," wrote of him: "Full of wisdom and understanding in Torah and Halacha, whose fear of Heaven precedes his wisdom, possessing correct opinion and outlook, like our own rabbis." The purpose and goal of his shiurim have been refined over the years, as he has sought that those who attend should themselves be Torah scholars and seekers of wisdom. In his words: "When many Jews gather together for a Torah shiur — all the precious stones shine together, and thus the power of Torah is magnified." At the same time, Rabbi Shlomo speaks out sharply against phenomena of labeling and categorizing people. He practices this himself, demonstrating deep knowledge of Torah that emerges from every study hall in the Sephardic, Chassidic, and Litvish worlds.
"The goal is one," Rabbi Shlomo says time and again, "to place the service of Hashem at the center of life, seriously and consistently. And when Torah study is done with connection and love for the Giver of the Torah, for the Tannaim and the righteous who devoted their entire lives to it — one connects to holiness, and the Torah becomes a shield against every spiritual threat." Thought The Path to Signs From Heaven When a person stands at a crossroads and struggles over an important life decision — is there a way through which he can receive a sign or illumination from Heaven regarding the right step?
"There is such a thing. A person must go according to truth and according to his heart, not according to opinions he hears from outside. Rabbi Yisrael Karduner, who was a student of Rabbi Moshe of Breslov, who was a student of Rabbi Nathan of Breslov, who was a student of the holy Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, of blessed memory — wrote in his writings: 'This is our tradition, that a person should not decide on a course of action for himself until he cries out to the heavens above that they grant him true counsel on what to do. And only when he cries out from the heart in request of what to do — can he merit being shown the way.' Of course, this applies more to a person who has prayer and Torah knowledge — then he will have more Divine assistance." Rabbi Shlomo qualifies: "But a person who is confused — it's good for him to consult a wise person. Because he has Torah — he will always have Divine assistance to arrive at the truth. This is how they acted with the 'Chazon Ish' and other great figures: they knew that because they had Torah — they had Divine assistance, knowing that even if I err, the Divine assistance granted to the wise person will help me not to err. But the advice is to ask from the depths of the heart, truly: 'What is the way?' 'What does Hashem want from me?' 'What should I do?' This is very important advice. The Midrash Pinchas states that a person should say every day of his life: 'Master of the world, guide me on the true path.' "The point of truth," Rabbi Shlomo explains, "is the most important thing so that a person doesn't err in his path. A person who is genuine doesn't make any false movement. To such an extent, that it's told in 'Shema Shlomo' about the holy Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin, of blessed memory, that he once traveled in a wagon and saw a Jew who had been killed for sanctifying Hashem's name, hanging from a tree. The Rebbe looked at him and said to his students: 'Look, he is hanging from the tree, he died sanctifying Hashem's name. But before he passed, he had some flicker of pride that he was being hung for sanctifying Hashem's name, and now people would see him hanged for sanctifying Hashem's name.'" Rabbi Shlomo said that this thought left a negative impression on that Jew, and he [the Rebbe] perceived this.
That's frightening. Not even in the moment of death does one escape scrutiny!
"Correct. This is a very high standard, exceedingly fine. But it shows how much every thought leaves an impression. Thought must always be holy and pure, always, all the time — one must think good thoughts. I've repeated this many times, and we've brought many proofs at the end of the shiur in Sanz, that one of the thoughts that causes impurity in a person is when a person thinks badly about a fellow Jew. Not only does this bring him trouble, it also defiles him and damages the soul. This is very serious. 'The inclination of man's heart is evil all the day' — this is not good, and one must distance oneself from this trait." Decrees "Because of the Lack of Unity" Rabbi, we said, we find ourselves in a very difficult period altogether. Even before the challenge of the coronavirus pandemic arrived — and the matter intensified during it — the Chareidi community has been at the center of attention, blamed for all the troubles and illnesses, with constant efforts to restrict the steps of those who observe the mitzvot and to make things difficult for the Torah world. What does one do in a situation like this?
"If there were unity among all those who fear Hashem — no nation and nothing could stand against us. When there are decrees — it is because there is no unity, and then the Holy One causes people to rise against us, in order to bring the Jewish people to unity. As long as there is no unity — this situation will continue. This is the true and root cause. In Parashat Beshalach it says: 'And Pharaoh drew near.' Whom did he draw near? Our Sages explain that he brought the Jewish people closer to their Father in Heaven. When they saw Pharaoh chasing after them — their hearts were aroused to repentance.
"The harsh decrees exist only because we are not together and don't feel connected to one another. There is no unity among us. True Judaism is 'Love your fellow as yourself.' This is Judaism, this is the entire Torah in a nutshell. 'What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow.' If we act this way — then everything you've mentioned can be resolved. There will be Divine assistance, and the authorities too will act favorably." And what is the way to reach out to our estranged brethren?
"If a person comes to a Jew and truly loves him — he won't need to speak much to him about the greatness of Hashem; the other will draw close on his own. But the problem is that love isn't always felt. And in a situation where there's no love — things don't connect and don't work out. One must love the Jewish people, and this will draw close all those who are far.
"Our teacher Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz, of blessed memory," Rabbi Shlomo relates, "once asked the holy Baal Shem Tov: how does one win back the heart of a child who has strayed to bad influences? Is it through mikveh intentions? Through spiritual unifications? What should be done? And the Baal Shem Tov laughed and told him: 'Only by loving him will he accept from you and you'll be able to win back his heart.' And so it was. He showed great love to that one Jew and brought him back. This is the rule in drawing the distant close: we should love the Jewish people, and thereby draw the entire Jewish people closer to our Father in Heaven." The Rav mentioned this topic — and it weighs heavily on many families whose child has, God forbid, gone astray or weakened in his Jewish observance. How does one treat such a child?
"One must show love and compassion to everyone," Rabbi Shlomo maintains. "To love everyone, to show him love. To love him too. When you make him feel that he isn't loved — this causes him to go and disconnect; but when you show him that he is loved — he will never disconnect himself from the place where he is loved. Because a person, at his root, will always seek love. He will want to reach a place where he is loved. The moment love is withheld from him — all hope and purpose for him to return is severed, and effectively his fate is sealed that he will never return. So why not love him?" On the other hand, many parents find it difficult to agree with all sorts of things their child does. What is the correct balance?
"The moment one loves him but also protests to him and tells him: 'Know, my son, that what you're doing isn't good, don't walk this path, my son, don't go with them, keep your foot from their path' — he will feel that these words come from a loving heart. When the son says to his father: 'Father, help me with such and such a thing,' and the father answers him: 'I love you, but I'm not willing to help you with this, because it goes against the will of the Creator' — the outcome will be positive. One shouldn't help him do wrongful and bad things, but one must convey: I have love for you. My heart is with you, but my mind — is not.
"There was a story about the holy Rabbi Shlomo of Zvhil, of blessed memory, who used to say of everyone that he was a tzaddik. One day a Jew came to him and said: 'Rabbi, I am a shoemaker. The Rabbi says I am a tzaddik, I have a righteous daughter and I am a tzaddik. The Rabbi is a tzaddik. So, let's make a match: the Rabbi should marry his righteous son to my righteous daughter.' Rabbi Shlomo answered him: 'You will marry righteous people like yourself, and I will marry righteous people like myself'...
"To this day, does anyone think Rabbi Shlomo of Zvhil's opinions were inconsistent? Everyone knew how strict he was in matters of holiness and purity, and yet, he called even the simplest Jew a 'tzaddik.' Everyone also knows how strict Rabbi Aharon Roth, author of 'Shomer Emunim,' was, as seen in his books 'Noam HaLevavot' and 'Taharat HaKodesh.' But when he saw a Jew in the street — he would melt and cry over him.
"Love and intellect are two different things: emotionally — one must love everyone and draw everyone close, and intellectually — one simply protests wrongdoing. There's no problem telling a person that we think his ways will lead him to ruin. This is not a contradiction to the love that must flow from the heart." Encounter All Roads Connect We inquire among the students about Rabbi Shlomo the Yanuka's study schedule, and discover a demanding daily routine backed by meticulous time management. He studies works of Halacha and Kabbalah, and completes the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud several times a year, alongside Scripture, its commentators and midrashim. Three times a year Rabbi Shlomo holds major completion celebrations [siyumim] for sections of Torah — on his birthday, on Shavuot, and on Simchat Torah.
We asked Rabbi Shlomo: throughout this entire conversation — we see how the Rav moves between the Rogatchover and Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin, between the Vilna Gaon and Rabbi Pinchas of Koretz, between Breslov and Chabad. So many righteous figures, such a variety of methods and paths. How can one merge all these paths together?
At this point, perhaps for the first time in the entire conversation, Rabbi Shlomo cries out: "There is no contradiction between the paths!" he declares emphatically. "Hashem, blessed be He, is one. The Torah is one. Whoever studies Torah with a truthful eye — will find no contradiction between the various paths in serving Hashem. When a person studies in order to be clever, he can find all sorts of things — that this one says this and that one holds that, and there's a gap between the opinions. But when one studies these matters in order to draw closer to Hashem through them — then one sees no dispute at all. On the contrary, in the end everything merges toward the will of Hashem.
"There is immense wisdom in Chabad. The teachings of Rabbi Aharon of Staroselye — a student of the Mitteler Rebbe; the teachings of the 'Tzemach Tzedek'; the teachings of the Maharash; the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak in Sefer HaMa'amarim; the Rebbe [Menachem Mendel] and all the holy figures. Chabad has immense wisdom; in Breslov they emphasize solitary meditation [hitbodedut]; and in the Litvish approach to thought, they speak of contemplation through analytical study of a topic and delving down to the roots of the method.
"One needs this, and this, and everything. A person needs a moment when he contemplates before Hashem, and a person needs a moment when he places his mind into a Talmudic topic in order to refine his mind, connecting to the will of Hashem through delving into the depths of a Torah subject." As we left the women's section of the synagogue in Rishon LeTzion — we heard a quiet melody humming somewhere in the room. Only now did we realize that this pleasant sound, filled with yearning, longing, and a Chassidic classic quality steeped in longing, had been there throughout the entire conversation, we simply hadn't noticed. For this is the way of Rabbi Shlomo, the Yanuka: to study in melody, while the strings of his soul play, unbidden, to the Giver of the Torah.
This song of life, it turns out, captivates the masses.