Rabbi Don Well - Remembering Rabbi Berel Wein zt"l

הרב בעריל וויין זצ''ל - מקדש שם שמים ברבים

ספר המצוות לרמב"ם מצות עשה ט' -  והמצוה התשיעית היא שצונו לקדש השם והוא אמרו (אמור כב) ונקדשתי בתוך בני ישראל. וענין זאת המצוה אשר אנחנו מצווים לפרסם האמונה הזאת האמתית בעולם                 

The recent death of Rav Berel Wein, זצ''ל, was a grievous loss for world Jewry. For many, it was a seismic event. The Talmudic adage: מי יתן לנו תמורתו – who can replace him? – was never more appropriate. The outsized role he occupied in our greater community has been replaced by a gaping hole.

The essay which follows will not fill the “gaping hole”. Nothing could. But it will hopefully add an authentic chapter to the life story of Rabbi Wein, זצ''ל, especially its origins in Chicago and its conclusion in ירושלים, both of which are relatively unfamiliar. In both cases I was a fortunate onlooker. There is an integrity in this account, an underlying unity in the dramatic currents of his destiny unfolding, and the apparent meanderings, where the flow of his life seems to shift and change course. But that is illusory. In tracing this development, I felt a catharsis, an unburdening of long-forgotten memories. I will not include any second-hand retellings of well-known biographical milestones. For lack of an acceptable affection-connoting alternative, I will refer to Reb Berel as Reb Berel.

When I heard the bitter news, in my mind’s eye I immediately recalled our last few meetings. These began two years ago during the break in Yom Kippur davening after Musaf.  He remained in shul sitting modestly, as always, at the far left side of the “mizrach vant”, and not next to the ארון הקודש. It was too difficult for him to walk home on the steep hills of Rechavia. I asked if I could join him and he graciously consented.

Early in the conversation, we agreed that יום כפור – the יום הקדוש – although long and arduous, did seem to go by faster and faster as the years flew by. I asked if I might offer a relevant linguistic observation. Reb Berel – ever the grammarian, among his multiple scholarly facets, told me to proceed.

In the קדושה, we (Ashkenazim) say:  "נקדש את שמך בעולם כשם שמקדישים אותו בשמי מרום". Why do we use two similar but alternate verb forms, "נקדש" and "מקדישים", to express the same idea? Both words mean “to sanctify”, to make holy. One is in the “pi-el” construction; the other in the “hiphil” construction. But ostensibly, both have the exact same meaning.

The distinction, I suggested, was that the pi-el form is used when referring to a process which takes place over time, whereas the hiphil is preferred when describing an event, an instantaneous occurrence that happens rapidly."נקדש"  – “let us sanctify your great name, Hashem!” It will take time and effort, maybe hours, maybe a lifetime, for us to properly address and propagate Your holiness, Hashem.”  But we try to emulate the מלאכים "כשם שמקדישים", who can do so in a flash, in a divine burst of holiness. We, unlike the מלאכים, are frail human beings who need to overcome many obstacles in order to performקידוש השם properly.

This distinction between word-pairings from the same root works many other cases, such as לקרב – to draw near (as in Kiruv), which takes time,  and להקריב – to bring an offering, which takes only an instant; or לגדל – to raise (as in to raise a child) and להגדיל – to enlarge or magnify, which takes only a moment.

The purpose of Yom Kippur is to make us holy, even angelic. Hence, we divest ourselves of human needs such as eating and drinking. But there remains a huge difference between us and the מלאכים. The מלאכים are מקדישים. They can transform the world and sanctify Hashem’s name effortlessly. We human beings require more time, more latitude. We need to engage in a process – נקדש – a continuous expense and expanse of time and work to sanctify our endeavors.

Yom Kippur is a divine gift which provides us with a once-in-a year opportunity to transform ourselves and sanctify our earthly existence. Time is compressed, but it still takes a whole day to be מקדש ourselves, to try and make ourselves holy, even angelic. Reb Berel nodded approvingly, which filled me with pride. The rest of Yom Kippur went by much faster.

GROUND ZERO OF JEWISH THOUGHT

Although we had known each other 75 years, he was larger than life.  He was, arguably, the premier spokesman for Orthodox Judaism in our generation. We have been blessed with many other illustrious rabbis and leaders, but I doubt that any other commanded a larger audience. As I read many of the eulogies and tributes recently published, I was struck that most of the celebrated authors mentioned that they would often consult Reb Berel. His wisdom was not merely sought after; his opinions and guidance were taken to be authoritative. Almost every anglo-Jewish publication during the weekend of August 24-25, 2025, carried his picture on the cover.

It was clear many years ago that no other scholar issued so many endorsements; his הסכמות – approbations – appeared in so many books on so many diverse Jewish topics so very often.

There is admittedly no way to measure his pervasive influence. We know that his teachings reached far beyond the prominent congregations he served. They radiated out nationally and internationally. After taking up residence in ירושלים, his location became a greater force – multiplier, a destination for עליה לרגל, to hear a shiur or a drasha from him.

Aside from his books and tapes and articles and commentaries, his opinion pieces began to define “ground zero” of Jewish thought and perspective. Concentric circles emanating from his views helped frame the parameters of Jewish discourse.

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 14a; Kesubos 17a) tells us about the reputation of Rabbi Abbahu among his fellow Jews and among many in the emperor’s court. He was called מדברנא דאומתיה – the “spokesman of his people”. It was he who was chosen to represent his nation and to lead them, by speaking on their behalf.  Reb Berel was indeed the מדברנא דאומתיה. The programs of most annual conventions in the Orthodox Jewish world – in all circles – such as the OU, the Agudah, the Mizrachi, many Yeshivas, and organizations, featured Reb Berel in a keynote speaking role. Frequently, one of his seminal writings or responses to inquiries – halachic and/or hashkafic – would flood social media and reach tens of thousands with ballistic speed. One such recent example was the video “position-paper” on the Washington Mall mass rally on November 14, 2023, following the October 7 massacre. Some circles had stridently opposed participation. Reb Berel endorsed it and publicly questioned the halachik rationale of the opponents. Over 300,000 participants were there.

He had thus become the pre-eminent spokesman for Orthodoxy as a whole. The tag-line “as a whole” is crucial. For his ultimate concern was the “wholeness” of the whole – the entire spectrum of the Jewish community, from the Chassidim (whom he knew intimately and about whom he cared) to the liberal wings of Judaism (about whom he cared no less).

It is important to add here that his influence and authority were a function of the content of his words, not from charisma or the demagogic impact of his presentations. On the contrary, his speeches and shiurim were studiously devoid of oratorical flourishes or a cascade of scholarly references. He intentionally used these and other rhetorical devices very sparingly. Instead, it was the combination of his singularly “rootedness” in all things Jewish and his extraordinary vision that so endeared him to an adoring public. To be sure, there were also profound insights, homespun – even maverick – wisdom, humorous quips, anecdotes and asides, and even elliptical astringent admonitions. Most of all, there was his unique ability to analyze what was happening and then to synthesize the elements revealed by his analysis with everything else that was happening! These were the signature characteristics of his words that made them a magnet for all of Klal Yisrael.

That  is the mission of מדברנא דאומתיה – to interpret the meaning of contemporary events through the prism of Torah, in a way which unveils their underlying spiritual significance and unifies the people. My own relationship with Reb Berel goes back to the early 1950s. He was recognized then as a "מצוין", as one of the stellar bachurim in the Yeshiva – a מתמיד and a בעל כשרון. He was an interesting blend even then of a serious student: a touch of dignified austerity with a restrained friendliness and a sharp wit.

My roommate and chavrusa in 1953-1954 was Avigdor Bonchek זצ''ל, the future author of “What’s Bothering Rashi?” Reb Berel became our “eltereh bochur” and learned Mishnah Berurah with us after Shacharis each morning. He was fond of us as we were of him. Although never “warm and fuzzy”, his easy accessibility over the following decades testified to an abiding affection from those early days.

Our day in the Yeshiva began with morning seder, after davening and breakfast, including shiur. Then lunch, Mincha, second seder. This included an hour of either Tanach or Ivrit, then Jewish history or Jewish philosophy. Our teachers were scholars of renown, such as Dr. Joseph Babad, and professors Eliezer Berkowitz and Meyer Waxman.  When we entered the evening program at Roosevelt University, it meant commuting to the Loop every day. We would eat an early dinner at the “401 Club” (a storefront restaurant on Crawford Avenue, so-called because of its address). HTC – The Chicago Yeshiva – was then in transition from the blighted famous old West Side to the new Skokie campus, not yet opened.

We learned at that time in the venerable Anshe Sholom Synagogue on Independence Blvd. These years were ironically wonderful years of Torah study and student body cohesiveness. Reb Berel thrived. Fortunate were we! Reb Berel offered us a place in his daily 5:00 PM carpool. He was then entering DePaul Law School. Having just graduated from Roosevelt University, he mentored us to unprecedented scholarly heights: “When you take sociology 101, for the final exam skip the text, just memorize the footnotes” he advised. We did as he suggested, aced the test, set the curve, and got the only As on the final. Sixty other students got a C or less, and we were close to getting scalped.

I include the above in order to make one important point. Looking back, it is remarkable to note how ordinary and “American” our lives were. The mature Reb Berel would later often poke fun at the ubiquitous myth that Gedolei Yisrael in prior generations were often said “to have made a brocha at the age of two on their mothers’ milk”. He, too, in many ways became an “adam gadol”, but he began as a regular fellow, fond of sports and superbly aware of the world around him. He accomplished so much without a cloistered childhood or an imposed ghetto-like isolation. In fact, one might argue, it was indeed because he evolved within modernity and society, and was not estranged from them, that the clarity of his perception was so sharp and incisive and his scope so broad.  The incredible emergence of Reb Berel as the “people’s spokesman” is therefore more impressive when one takes this “ordinary”, “normal” background into the calculus. Yet it was not only his intellect and his talents; it was not only the unique institutional culture which nourished him and promoted his growth. It was undoubtedly his discipline and will-power and single-minded dedication to goals that were formulated during this time. His lifetime trajectory was that of a "מקדש", not a "מקדיש". Even the choice of law as a career stemmed initially from the impulse to be מקדש שם שמים ברבים. With the practice of law combined with Torah study and חסד, he could help people and sanctify G-d’s name.

The trips we shared in the carpool were truly unforgettable. With us were Reb Berel’s colleagues and fellow Semicha students, Avraham Reiger (driving) and Norbert Rosenthal זצ''ל. We younger associates were exposed to at least half of Yoreh Deah and half of the Law School curriculum. Again, it was the “mix” of קודש וחול which combined in an easy, organic manner that moved foundational for our future lives. The natural extraction of קדושה from its mundane roots in this world became second nature. We listened as the trio discussed Torah life in a changing world. The accent was inter alia on rabbanus; the congregational rabbis of the era were closely examined. The consensus was that Rabbi Theodore J. Adams זצ''ל of Congregation Ohaiv Tsedek in Manhattan was then the leading speaker in the Orthodox rabbinate. But the Orthodox rabbinate needed serious attention!

During these years, senior students learning Yoreh Deah would speak in rotation during davening on Shabbos morning in the Beis Medrash. All the Roshei Yeshiva and significant neighborhood “lomdim” davened in the Yeshiva. This was a formidable audience. I remember when Reb Berel spoke. He even then had a distinctive rhetorical style. Though younger than his colleagues by at least two years, he was deliberate, articulate, and self-possessed. Even then his cadence was soft and clear, spare without embellishments. And, if memory serves me correctly, he was listened to attentively by all present, including the Roshei Yeshiva, some of whom were usually engrossed in learning during the drashos.

Soon Reb Berel married and opened a practice in real estate law. He continued to learn intensively. His long-time chavrusa was Rav Avraham Dovid Oppen זצ''ל. They learned in the A.M. before Shacharis. Rav Oppen later followed Reb Berel to Monsey when he founded Yeshiva Shaarei Torah in 1977. Reb Berel, however, was restless. The rabbanus drew him. During this period, he became the Rav of an informal minyan on Chicago’s North Side. He succeeded, only making things worse. He and Jackie, his wife, socialized by celebrating Melave Malka together with his brothers-in-law, Roshei Yeshiva in the newly opened Chicago Telshe Yeshiva, Rav Avraham Chaim Levin זצ''ל and Rav Chaim Keller זצ''ל. Soon the same group included Rav Yaakov Perlow זצ''ל, a young Rosh Yeshiva in HTC, destined to become The Novominsker Rebbe.

A very close friend of Reb Berel and his classmate was Rav Aryeh (Louie) Rottman זצ''ל. Rav Rottman had founded a small but promising congregation in Miami Beach, and a Mesivta. He had decided to leave Florida in 1964 to open a Yeshiva in Long Beach, New York. Several years later, he departed Long Beach and established Yeshivas Mercaz HaTorah in Arnona, in ירושלים, in 1970.  Having decided to leave Miami Beach, Rav Rottman appealed to Reb Berel to apply for the position. It was not an easy sell, but Rav Rottman prevailed. There was one other candidate for the post who came with a distinguished national reputation. Still, Reb Berel won the congregation and was offered the position.

Eight years later, when I began to serve HTC, I invited Reb Berel to return to Chicago to address the rabbinic alumni and the young Semicha students. In his talk, he recounted that when he came to Miami as a candidate, there was – in retrospect – a sea change in the search for pulpit occupants. “No one asked me about my secular degrees or qualifications,” he recalled. “They only wanted to hear me teach Torah. What were my plans for giving shiurim? There was a quick rapport. They wanted to learn and I wanted to teach!” That experience, in 1964, now being shared in 1972, heralded a transformation taking place in American Orthodoxy. Academic credentials and English-speaking skills were giving way to the thirst for Torah scholarship. A new age had dawned in American Orthodoxy.

Providentially, Rav Berel’s career precisely embraced the six decades of the new era as it ascended and peaked (1964-2025). Today we may well be on the threshold of another sea change. In Reb Berel’s own observations and analysis, the United States in the twenty-first century is threatened by a serious moral decline. The Jewish community in particular should be heeding the wake-up calls that we are receiving with increasing frequency. Equally providentially, Reb Berel’s career choices, in terms of location, placed him at the vortex of Jewish life: Miami, then New York, and ultimately ירושלים, were exactly where the “action was”, bustling metropolitan intersections where prominent Jewish leaders and laymen encountered each other.

Having transplanted to the greater New York area in 1972, first as an executive with the young OU, then as the leader of an expanding Torah community in Monsey, Reb Berel’s reputation on the national stage was growing. His prodigious output of tapes on Jewish history nourished a thirst for what he self-deprecatingly called his “Chicago accent”. He meant to call attention to more than his accent. He confessed that he was alluding to his maverick status in metropolitan New York and his Chicago origins. That meant HTC. He was extremely proud of his Yeshiva and the array of Roshei Yeshiva who educated him. He remained loyal to the Yeshiva all his life.

For his Chicago colleagues, and devotees from elsewhere, Reb Berel had become far more than the Yeshiva’s distinguished representative. He was no longer an ambassador. He now belonged to the national Jewish community. His outlook on wider communal issues soon caught the attention of all circles in the Orthodox world, and the non-Orthodox leadership as well.

HE TAUGHT TORAH ON A VAST SCALE

In 1990, shortly after I moved to New York and assumed the position of Executive Vice President of the Board of Jewish Education, our paths crossed again. I invited him to keynote an Annual Conference of Jewish educators, which included all denominations. He promptly consented as he always did. It was a standing personal policy: Whenever asked, he immediately agreed to speak. It was to teach: לקדש שם שמים ברבים.  This was just after the publication of the catastrophic findings of the National Jewish Population Study in 1990 which revealed that intermarriage among Jews in America had reached astronomical proportions. The “call of the hour” – the immediate challenge to Jewish federations and all their affiliates was “continuity”. A euphemism for education, “continuity” became the new watchword, the new and improved indispensable gateway to guarantee Jewish survival.

I shall never forget the candor and the clarity with which he discussed the challenge. There was no spin, no political restraint, as he analyzed both the problem of rampant assimilation and the artificial “band-aid” solutions that were gaining currency. His words were delicate but direct: The crumbling foundations of permissive liberal Judaism had corroded traditional Jewish life. The sanctity of the Jewish home and the Jewish school needed to be restored. Clearly, Jewish communal policies were legitimizing and encouraging assimilation. His appeal included practical suggestions and ended with great sympathy for fellow educators. He issued a clarion call to teachers to respond to the need for “genuine continuity” and reinforce each other’s work: "ואיש לאחיו יאמר חזק" – His words touched every heart.

Reb Berel didn’t just talk...“he walked the walk”. He taught Torah on a vast scale. Between his congregation and his Yeshiva and the community at large, he could give one shiur after another, inexhaustibly, over a weekend. Even that did not suffice for him. He turned to the media: books, tapes, and later film and the internet, to amplify his reach. His energies were unrelenting and boundless. As mentioned, this did not go unnoticed in wider non-Orthodox leadership circles, especially the Jewish Federation. In 1993, he was surprisingly awarded the Educator of the Year by the Crown family’s Covenant Foundation. This recognition had never heretofore been given to an Orthodox mechanech. And it took another twenty years until it happened again.

Although Reb Berel had created a magnificent congregation in Monsey, a Hirschian Kehilla really, with a flourishing Yeshiva, and could easily have chosen to remain with life tenure, he and his family fulfilled a life-long dream and made עליה to Israel. Just as he had done in Monsey, he settled in the neighborhood he preferred, as a “baalabos”. This was the storied Rechavia in ירושלים. But once he began davening at the prestigious Bet Knesset HaNasi, he inexorably began to give shiurim. His reputation preceded him, of course, and one thing leads to another, of course. Soon he was invited to become Rov of the shul.

Like a fish in water, Reb Berel was at home in ירושלים. He had grown up in circles suffused with a great love for ארץ ישראל. His father had been a talmid of Rav Kook זצ''ל and learned in ישיבת מרכז הרב. A great many of his classmates had been leaders of Chicago’s Bnei Akiva movement and Camp Moshava. This movement in Chicago uniquely was closely aligned with HTC, and its leadership sought guidance from HaGaon HaRav Chaim Kreiswirth, זצ''ל, the Rosh HaYeshiva, who was Reb Berel’s “Rebbe Murhak” – his lifelong mentor. This group wrought a revolution in Chicago’s religious Jewish life. Its members were the first American-born generation in the city to adopt the earmarks of Torah life: The women covered their hair and the men draped the taleisim over their heads during davening. Unbelievable as it sounds today, I heard directly from Rav Dovid (Ketzel) Fox, זצ''ל, famed founding Rebbi of Yeshivat Netiv Meir (and equally unbelievable, the Rebbe in the mid-fifties of the youngster destined to become Tolner Rebbe of ירושלים), that when Rav Kreiswirth left Chicago to become Rav of Antwerp, he asked his talmid to come with him and establish a Bnei Akiva – “like in Chicago” – in Antwerp.

Many of Reb Berel’s close friends had already settled in Israel. His “chevra”, almost all of them, like himself, talmidim of Rav Kreiswirth, had changed the face of Torah education in the Holy Land. I will mention a few of them to illustrate the “cultural climate” of the times:

Rav Reuven Aberman (Michlala)

Rav Yehudah Copperman (Michlala)

Rav Dovid Fox (Netiv Meir, Mevasseret)

Rav Avrohom Ganz (Kiryt Noar)

Rav Yehoshua Levinson (Midreshet Noam)

Rav Aryeh Rottman (Mercaz HaTorah)

Rav Shmaryahu Meltzer (Itri)

Rav Gershon Swimmer (K’far HaRoeh)

Others followed, most of them active in the burgeoning Yeshivat Hesder movement, the Ulpanot, and a variety of schools and seminaries. And, superfluous to add, many of Reb Berel's own talmidim and congregations – and their children – have taken up residence in Israel over this past half-century. The reader may ask: “If so, was Reb Berel a secret card-carrying member of Bnei Akiva?” And thereby hangs a tale.

COUNTERINTUITIVE INSIGHTS THAT UNDERMINED CONVENTIONAL THINKING

In the early 1950s Reb Berel was a disciple of the legendary Rav Mendel Kaplan, זצ''ל. Reb Mendel was undeniably the most impactful Rebbe in the Yeshiva world at that time (in Chicago and later in Philadelphia). Reb Mendel took the young Berel Wein under his wing (in itself an extraordinary mark of distinction) and asked him to join a private Chumash-Mussar shiur he gave to select talmidim on Shabbos. Reb Mendel soon told Reb Berel that Bnei Akiva was not for him. They did a lot of good kiruv work. But if you give candy to children, your hands will get sticky.” Reb Berel dutifully complied.

As an aside, Reb Berel so closely bonded with Reb Mendel that he adopted some of his pedagogic habits. One good example was the one-line “zinger”. He would throw off counterintuitive insights that undermined conventional thinking. Your assumptions about life were suddenly upended. Reb Mendel said “You think time is money. No! Money is time.” And Torah values were validated and triumphant. Reb Berel followed in his footsteps. When I heard him say things like “Only in America, infinity is the name of a car,” Reb Mendel instantly came to mind. Reb Mendel had famously arrived from Europe with the Mir שארית הפליטה. Knowing no English, he nevertheless began to bring a newspaper to shiur and teach his talmidim how to parse headlines. He taught them to interpret and expose the subtle messaging the newspapers conveyed. Reb Berel learned well (משמע) and later employed the same techniques in his teaching. Reb Berel felt enormously indebted to his Rabbeim in many ways. He has written extensively about his “Litvishe legacy” and once told me that nowhere in the Yeshiva world, then or now, had there been a concentration of great Roshei Yeshiva to compare with Chicago’s at that time.

Not long after arriving in Israel, Reb Berel met with a highly-placed Israeli government official. This was at the time that Reb Berel created the Destiny Foundation. Avner Yisraeli was tasked with funding educational outreach, especially to the diaspora, including the disbursement of American counterpart funds. These resources were provided by the late Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii, Chair of the U.S. Senate Appropriations Committee. Most of this initiative came through Zev Wolfson, זצ''ל, a remarkable and influential philanthropist. Reb Berel had an entrepreneurial side which he quietly but effectively wielded when building his Torah enterprises. In time, Reb Berel became fast friends with Yisraeli and served as an informal consultant. Avner “although secular, was a fine Jew with a strong commitment to chinuch”, Reb Berel testified.

By coincidence, I had worked twenty years earlier as a research psychologist at the Henrietta Szold Institute for Behavioral Schinces in ירושלים, during which Avner Yisraeli had enlisted me as a consultant to design a program to strengthen Jewish identity. Many years later, I heard from Avner directly how valuable a resource he had found in Reb Berel. As a remarkable testimonial to their relationship, Reb Berel later shared that he was asked to deliver the eulogy at Avner’s funeral – an exceptionally rare sign of esteem for an Orthodox American Rabbi. Jews like Avner Yisraeli would normally not ask (1) a Rabbi, (2) an American, (3) An Orthodox Jew, to officiate at their funeral.

AN UNUSED TEXT OPEN ON THE SHTENDER IN FRONT OF HIM

In 2022, I was caught by COVID in ירושלים over the ימים נוראים. It was then that I chose to daven with Reb Berel at Bet HaKnesset HaNasi, which I described above. That reunion turned out to be a foretaste of another series of reunions during this last May of 2025. Reb Berel was still giving his regular shiurim, including a פרקי אבות session on Shabbos afternoon before Mincha. He would ascend the bima early, sit quietly, and then teach without notes, an unused text open on the shtender in front of him. The mellow flow of his delivery – as always – was fluent and uninterrupted. I soon discovered that he remained in the sanctuary upstairs alone when everyone descended to the social hall to eat סעודה שלישית. Once again, I approached and asked if I might join him and once again, he consented. Private time with Reb Berel was a rare commodity. An aide brought him his meal, but he welcomed me with collegial affection. Next Shabbos I ate סעודה שלישית at home before I was picked up and accompanied to פרקי אבות. Once again, I joined him while the congregation accommodated us with a quiet shul and “quality time”. Unforgettably, this same opportunity repeated itself for four שבתות in a row, and I still feel enormously privileged, especially now in retrospect.

Reb Berel was not given to enjoy nostalgia in a sentimental way as others might But there was a rich exchange of memories and experiences, especially of the Chicago Yeshiva. Mixed in with the divrei Torah, there were “rear-view” take-aways about careers in Jewish communal life. He was particularly exultant about living in Israel. Some of our conversations are distilled in the foregoing pages. There were old mysteries resolved: “How could I not know? Of course, Rosh Yeshiva X left to take another position because he felt his hands were tied and he was unable to exercise his authority as Rosh HaYeshiva!” And notwithstanding that Rav Kreiswirth was always his source for דעת תורה and his “go-to” authority on many life issues, Reb Berel had impeccably fair judgment in a sensitive and complicated situation. Rav Rottman had passed away. The heirs of Rav Kreiswirth laid claim to Yeshivas Mercaz HaTorah because he had been the titular Rosh HaYeshiva. The institution, however, was incontestably the product of Rav Rottman’s initiative, and his blood, sweat and tears. A local בית דין had unjustly disinherited Rav Rottman’s heirs. Reb Berel covertly intervened and succeeded in reversing the p’sak. Like much of what he did in the communal sphere, as in the personal domain, it was done quietly and compassionately, without any fanfare.

There had been a tumultuous period in the chronicles of our own alma mater during the early 1970s. Reb Berel had strong private feelings about what transpired. The institution was rudderless and whatever authority existed was diffuse; mostly a Board of Directors without a Yeshiva background was making the decisions. Reb Berel was approached to assume the presidency. However, he wisely set conditions that the Board found unacceptable.

On a lighter note, we catalogued some of the subtle ways in which our Rabbeim, especially Reb Mendel, influenced our subsequent behavior. Reb Mendel had an anecdote he repeated often: He had returned to the Yeshiva in Baranovich after being away during ספירת העומר. When he returned, the mashgiach, to whom he was very attached, refused to talk to him. Reb Mendel, in desperation, asked him why. He answered in Yiddish: “You have a beard! You’re a 'מושלם' – a ‘perfected person’! So what is there to talk about?” As a consequence, Chicago talmidim frequently resisted growing a beard. Even Reb Berel kept his to a minimum.

One of Reb Berel’s classmates was Rav Yitzchak Goldberg זצ''ל, a person of surpassing piety and modesty. Though he never functioned as a Rov or a mechanech, it was not surprising that one of his children, Rav Aharon Dovid, ultimately became the current Rosh HaYeshiva of Telshe Cleveland. Yet another of the uncountable ways in which our Yeshiva’s influence radiated out and illuminated the Torah world.

Finally, it was astonishing to learn that Reb Berel was nearly sightless. Even after speaking with him at length, I had not realized how impaired his vision was; he relied on audio tapes and aides who read to him. But his demeanor as always was calm, contained, even-tempered. There was no detectable note of distress at his physical limitations. In retrospect, it is hard to imagine that in three short weeks, I would be writing these words.

Reb Berel may have been sightless, but his defining quality was his vision. His scope was “Olympian”. He hovered over earth, seeing everything from atop by virtue of his deeds and his teachings. He was never flamboyant, never dramatic, never self-promoting or drawing attention to himself. He barely smiled at his own dry humor. His distinction was his vision, the product of unrivaled sagacity and impeccable integrity. When Reb Berel said something – anything – it was true and trustworthy, compellingly authoritative. If any of those elements was absent, he did not say it.

Reb Berel saw himself as “a bridge between past and present” – between the old world of history – of Europe and Chicago – and the complicated universe we inhabit. But he was more than that. The coordinates of past and present gave him insights into the future as well, with all of its monumental immeasurable complexity. He was "רואה את הנולדת". From his mountaintop vantage point, he saw beyond the horizon. It was the clarity of his vision that rendered his world transparent. It was his vision that guided his endeavors. He knew what would work and what was needed.

Which brings me back to our opening observation. To be a מקדש שם שמים ברבים one must embark on a difficult path. One must engage in a lifetime process of self-development and the cultivation of a demanding regimen of effort and time. There are no shortcuts, no "מקדישים" strategies that lead to instantaneous success.

Reb Berel answered the call of his unique destiny; his unquenchable thirst was to teach עם ישראל and to be מקדש שם שמים ברבים. To that end, he bent every fiber of his being and devoted every moment of his day. Thus, it is that a gifted but “ordinary” youngster became an extraordinary spokesman for his people.

 יהי זכרו ברוך – May his memory be a source of blessing for us all.