Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, whose fiftieth yahrzeit we celebrate this coming Sunday, 24 Teves 5764 - January 2004 , is best known as the author of Michtav Me’Eliyahu, the most influential and widely disseminated work of hashkafa of the last century. Just as it is said of the Chofetz Chaim, zt"l, that his phenomenal tzidkus obscured his greatness in learning, so it could be said of Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler’s that his greatness as a thinker has obscured the magnitude of his impact as a builder of Torah institutions.

When Dayan Yechezkel Abramsky sought to describe the achievement of Rabbi Aharon Kotler in bringing the concept of Torah lishma to America, he could think of no higher accolade than to compare Reb Aharon’s impact to that of Rabbi Dessler in England. "What Rabbi Dessler did in England, Rav Aharon did in America," he said.

Rabbi Dessler’s arrival in England, however, was far from auspicious. He first came in 1928 to accompany his father Rabbi Reuven Dov Dessler for medical treatments. While in England, he decided to stay in the hope that he would be able to pay off debts that he and his father had incurred in a failed business venture. That decision led, in turn, to a separation of three years from his wife and two young children, who remained behind in Kelm.

His first position as rabbi of the Ein Yaakov shul in London’s East End was little more than a glorified shammas position, with a commensurately meager salary. The congregants, mostly newly arrived immigrants themselves, had little appreciation of the stature of their rav, who had previously been offered a position on the beis din of Vilna by his uncle the gadol hador Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grozinski.

Even when he moved to the better-established and more learned congregation of the Montagu Road Beis Medrash in Dalston, Rabbi Dessler had little satisfaction from his rabbinic duties. It galled him to earn his livelihood as a rabbi, which he viewed as turning Torah into a business. In later years, he would tell the members of the Gateshead Kollel that the congregants had viewed his drashos as a form of entertainment.

Fortunately, his rabbinic duties did not occupy the majority of his time. Shortly after his arrival in England, Rabbi Shmuel Yitzchak Hillman, the av beis din of London and s father-in-law of Rabbi Yitzchak Isaac Herzog, the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, recommended him as a tutor for the children of aristocratic Sassoon family – Pircha 15 and Solomon (Sliman) 14.

Under Rabbi Dessler’s tutelage, Solomon would develop into a talmid chacham and an original and profound Torah thinker. When Rabbi Sassoon was still a young man, Rabbi Herzog recommended him to be Sephardi Chief Rabbi of Israel, a suggestion Rabbi Sassoon rebuffed. In time, Rabbi Sassoon took his place as one of the most significant philanthropists in the Jewish world.

While Rabbi Sassoon remained the talmid with whom Rabbi Dessler spent the most time learning, the circle of private students gradually expanded to include, among others, twin brothers Sam and Fred Kahn, Rabbi Mordechai Miller, who would one day teach at and lead Gateshead Teachers Seminary for six decades, and Rabbi Aryeh Carmell, the co-editor and driving force behind the publication of Rabbi Dessler’s monumental five-volume Michtav Me’Eliyahu.

Rabbi Dessler’s talmidim furnished him great delight. In a 1938 letter to an old friend from Lithuania, he wrote, "Hashem has favored me with precious students, who are dear to me, and of substantial merits. . . . Of all my labor, this is the only part that gives me satisfaction." He drew his talmidim to him with chords of love. A profusion of letters, filled with longing to be reunited and expressions of gratitude for the slightest kindness, such as a cup of tea, flowed from his pen whenever he was separated from them.

Though most of Rabbi Dessler’s learning with his talmidim was devoted to Talmud (he and Sliman Sasoon completed Shas together at least once), Rabbi Dessler was no less concerned with their spiritual development. Almost all of his private students came from comfortable circumstances – the young Sliman Sassoon not infrequently arrived for his lessons still in his tennis attire – and Rabbi Dessler sought to shake their comfortable, upper middle-class complacency. The first essay in Michtav Me’Eliyahu describes the lives of misery lived by both the rich and the poor – the former because of their surfeit of material goods and the latter because of their lack of them.

The inherent tension between spiritual and material pursuits, and the incomparable superiority of the former, was Rabbi Dessler’s constant theme. His best-known essay, Kuntras HaChessed, in which divides the world into givers and takers was completed in this period as well. That essay drew its inspiration from the Beis HaTalmud of Kelm in which Rabbi Dessler was raised. The eradication of self-love, the Alter of Kelm taught, is the basis of all Divine Service, both bein adam l’makom and bein adam l’chavero.

THE LATE SUMMER OF 1941 found Rabbi Dessler in Chesham in Buckinghamshire along with other Jewish refugees from the constant German bombing of London. He was once again separated from his entire family. His son Nachum Velvel was learning in Telshe Yeshiva in the United States; his wife Bluma and daughter Hennie were trapped in Kelm at the outbreak of the War and were fortunate to be able to wend their way to Australia for the duration.

Rabbi Dessler was then in his fifty-first year, and had but 12 years left to live. Though many of his classic essays had already been formulated, not one word had been published except in stencils for his talmidim. Had Rabbi Dessler passed away then his name and thought would have been lost to posterity.

That summer a letter arrived at his lodgings from Rabbi Dovid Dryan, the mohel of Gateshead and founder of the fledgling Gateshead Yeshiva. Reb Dovid proposed the establishment of a kollel of outstanding young kollel scholars in Gateshead. Unbeknownst to Rabbi Dessler, Reb Dovid had sent the same letter to 21 other rabbis. Also unbeknownst to him, every other rabbi responded negatively to Reb Dovid’s suggestion: 18 did not bother to answer at all; another 3 commended the idea but decided it was impracticable under the wartime circumstances. The naysayers might have added that the number of those who appreciated the importance of Torah learning, much less the concept of Torah lishma, in England in those days in were few indeed. The few yeshivos that existed were small in size, and the idea of Kollel learning was unknown.

Rabbi Dessler alone replied positively to Reb Dovid’s letter: "My heart sees a great light in the matter which Your Honor suggested – your merit is very great." He replied as he did not because he saw success as guaranteed, but because he viewed the matter as too important not to try.

With Rabbi Dessler’s encouraging response to Reb Dovid Dryan’s letter, the face of English and all European Jewry was changed forever. By early 1942, the first group of young scholars was already in place. By any standard, they were an exceptional group. Their ranks included Rabbi Chaim Shmuel Lopian, already famous as author of Ravcha D’Shmaitesa; Reb Chaim Shmuel’s younger brother Rabbi Leib Lopian, future Rosh Yeshiva of Gateshead Yeshiva; Reb Leib’s brother-in-law, Rabbi Aryeh Leib Grossnass, subsequently a dayan on the London Beis Din; Rabbi Zusia Waltner, the founder of Sunderland Yeshiva, together with Rabbi Grossnass: and Rabbi Moshe Schwab, the future Mashgiach of Gateshead Yeshiva. The Gateshead Rav, Rabbi Naftali Shakovitsky also learned together with the Kollel. Within a few years, the original group was joined by a steady stream of young geniuses from Schneider’s Yeshiva in London: Rabbi Alter Halperin, Rabbi Shammai Zahn, Rabbi Naftali Friedler, Rabbi Bezalel Rakov, and yblch"a, Rabbi Dov Sternbuch and Rabbi Wolf Kaufman.

After Reb Dovid made three successful initial solicitations for the Kollel, he never succeeded in raising another shilling. The entire financial burden of the Kollel fell on the frail shoulders of the naturally self-effacing Rabbi Dessler. In order to raise the necessary funds, and maintain contact with all his old talmidim as well, Rabbi Dessler adopted an almost super-human schedule. Two or three nights every week, he slept in an upright seat courtesy of British Railway, as he traveled Motzaei Shabbos between Gateshead and Letchworth (wartime home of the Sassoon family); Thursday night from London to Gateshead; from London to Manchester and back yet another night. Only because the Hashgacha had separated Rabbi Dessler from his family was he able to contemplate, much less undertake, such a schedule.

Rabbi Moshe Schneider told the students in his yeshiva that Rabbi Dessler did not remove his clothes to sleep throughout the entirety of the war. "My brothers sleep on the ground," he explained to anyone who asked why he drove himself as he did. The destruction of the entire Eastern European world in which he was raised and nurtured was never far from his thoughts. Individual life, he proclaimed repeatedly, no longer existed. "Anyone who thinks of his own material position at a time like this is nothing less than a traitor to Hashem," he wrote his physician. The only question confronting every Jew who escaped the fires was: For what purpose did Hashem spare me?

The Kollel flourished beyond all expectations. Rabbi Dessler asked himself what he could have done to be the instrument of such a revolution in the understanding of Torah learning in all of England, indeed all of Western Europe. The only answer he could give: "In times such as ours, when capable men are scarce, anyone who show willingness to tackle a vital problem has Divine assistance heaped upon him. It turns the incapable into successful men, not because they deserve it but because the world needs them."

Rabbi Dessler’s role in the Kollel was not confined to raising the funds. He was its animating spirit. Though he allowed himself no more than one vote in any matter to be decided, and did not demand or allow any deference to be shown to him, somehow he always managed to persuade each member of his position in private conversations long before any vote was taken.

To the members of the Kollel, Rabbi Dessler was simply the gadol hador in hashkafa. "I never met another person with his phenomenal ability to plumb a subject to the depths," remembers Rabbi Dov Sternbuch. "His koach ha’iyun was incomparable. His face would go red with exertion when he was working on a problem."

"He was a living example of what is important and what is not," remembers Rabbi Wolf Kaufman, today Rosh Kollel in Manchester. "He made us embarrassed to talk about money." The young couples in the Gateshead Kollel were typically both penniless refugees. They considered themselves fortunate if they started married life with a few place settings and a handful of cheap cutlery that quickly rusted. (No one dreamed in those days of an exchange of thousands of dollars of jewelry prior to the wedding.)

Yet – and this is the key point – they considered themselves fortunate. Rabbi Dessler created such an atmosphere of spiritual striving that the members of the kollel and their wives were able to ignore their very strained circumstances. The opportunity to learn Torah lishma was all they asked.

He instilled in the members of the Kollel a disdain for anything other than finding the point of truth, internalizing it and living one’s life accordingly. When Rabbi Naftoli Friedler was offered a position as Rosh Yeshiva in the Gateshead Yeshiva, he did not view it as a step up from being a member of the Kollel. And when Rabbi Leib Grossnass left the Kollel to take a position as a Dayan on the London Beis Din, the other members of the Kollel could not understand why he would do such a thing.

THE FOUNDING OF THE GATESHEAD KOLLEL would certainly have been sufficient by itself to secure Rabbi Dessler’s place among those who set the foundations for today’s thriving Torah world in England. But even that is not the sum of his contribution.

His Motzaei Shabbos shmuessen that were open to the whole Gateshead community exerted a profound influence on the yeshiva bochurim, and the Gateshead Yeshiva grew fivefold in size during the early years of the Kollel. It was Rabbi Dessler who persuaded Rabbi Nachman Dovid Landynski, the Rosh Yeshiva, to take Rabbi Leib Lopian onto the yeshiva staff. And when Rabbi Landynski was forced to seek medical attention for a sick child in America, Rabbi Dessler prevailed upon Reb Leib’s brother-in-law, Rabbi Aryeh Leib Gurwicz, to leave his position in London to join the yeshiva. "My two lions," as Dayan Abramsky used to call them, served together as roshei yeshiva for over thirty years. Rabbi Dessler also brought another Kollel member, Rabbi Moshe Schwab into Gateshead Yeshiva as Mashgiach.

Rabbi Dessler’s influence was even more profound on Gateshead Teachers Seminary whose graduates have spread Torah to every corner of Europe, North Africa, and Eretz Yisrael. In recognition of his contribution to the Seminary, the only picture than hung on the walls of the Seminary during the lifetime of its founder, Mr. Avrohom Dov Kohn, was that of Rabbi Dessler.

He and Mr. Kohn discussed and laid the groundwork for the Seminary for a year before it opened its doors. Only Rabbi Dessler’s persuasive powers won over the members of the Gateshead community to the project, which was far removed from the forms of women’s education with which they had grown up. Without that approval the project could never have gotten off the ground.

From the opening of the Seminary, Rabbi Dessler taught there. On Thursday night, he spoke on a particular topic in Jewish thought. That lecture was open to all women in Gateshead. Every week, the students had to write their own synopses of the Thursday class, and Rabbi Dessler personally read over their efforts and commented on them. On Friday morning, he taught a Chumash-Rashi shiur.

The early staff was comprised almost entirely of members of the Kollel, such as Rabbis Grossnass, Friedler, Zahn, Binyamin Zev Weiss, and Sternbuch (who continues to teach until today), and Rabbi Dessler’s close talmid from London Rabbi Mordechai Miller. The latter succeeded Mr. Kohn as principal of the Seminary. The Seminary is justly famed for its emphasis on hashkafa, and Rabbi Dessler’s writings remain one of the principal foundations of that hashkafa.

Finally, Rabbi Dessler imbued his disciples with a zeal to build and spread Torah. He himself was one of the first to devote himself to ba’alei teshuva, of whom some of the first were students in Gateshead Seminary. And his followers and those who drank in his words in Gateshead Seminary have founded institutions all over the globe.

In one of his letters Rabbi Dessler tried to understand how it could be that "someone of no great ability succeeds in achieving something of the greatest importance to the entire world." His answer: Sometimes one alone understands the importance of the matter and steps forward. He was that one, and the world of Torah was immeasurably changed as a consequence.

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Rav Eliyohu Eliezer Dessler, zt'l, His Fiftieth Yahrtzeit - - 24 Teves

To mark the fiftieth yahrtzeit of HaRav E. E. Dessler zt'l, a two volume sefer containing hitherto unpublished or unavailable material is being issued entitled Sefer Zikoron: Michtav Me'Eliyohu. There are altogether over 500 new letter of Rav Dessler, plus hitherto unpublished shmuessen and other material. There are also many ma'amorim written especially for these volumes. Here we present excerpts from some of the articles of appreciation written by his talmidim in Ponovezh and letters he wrote to talmidim and acquaintances in chutz la'aretz.

A Man Whose Conduct Reflected His Inner Essence: His Teachings As He Recorded and Demonstrated Them Compiled by Rabbi Dov Wein Our Lives are Our Tools An idea that HaRav Dessler often repeated was that every object and circumstance in the material world should be viewed as a means of serving Hashem. He used to deliberate over everything that happened to him in life, trying to ascertain its reason and the particular aspect of serving Hashem in which it was to help him. One of the reasons that he agreed to undertake the task of establishing Gateshead Kollel was that his enforced separation from his family during the Second World War had left him temporarily free of all domestic duties and responsibilities. He felt that this circumstance obligated him to devote himself utterly and completely to holy endeavors, keeping none of his time or resources for himself. Similarly, following his wife's passing in 5711 (1951), he immersed himself in his holy work to an even greater extent than previously (Introduction to Michtav Mei'Eliyohu vol. I). Several passages in Michtav Mei'Eliyohu present aspects of this idea. "There are two well-known types of Providence: individual and general . . . The first is directed at the person who serves Hashem with pure motivation. Through his conduct and his use of free-will he reveals Hashem's glory in the world. His Providence is "individual" in the sense of its being personalized, i.e. fitting his own particular path in serving Hashem. It operates with great precision; under it, he receives all the means that he needs for his service. At times something may be withheld -- for such a person, being denied can also be a spur to serving Hashem by causing him to examine his deeds. It is of such a level that Chazal say, `Hakodosh Boruch Hu is exacting to a hairsbreadth with His pious ones.' "General Providence is for those who do not serve Hashem at all, or whose service is routine, lacking any inner awareness. The deeds of such people do not reveal Hashem's glory directly. Their lives have meaning insofar as they are involved in the necessary preparations for a tzaddik's service. They are instrumental in creating the conditions in which the tzaddik serves. What they receive is not a function of their own deeds -- in their own right they deserve nothing at all -- but is dependent on the tzaddik's needs. Providence impacts on them indirectly and is thus `general.' "For example, it may be necessary for the tzaddik's service that many people have a common lot in life despite individual differences in their conduct. This is the situation of the gentile nations and also of those members of Yisroel who are mainly occupied with the upkeep of this world, or whose Torah and mitzvos are external, done by rote, or with impure motivation . . . See . . . Seforno on Vayikra 13:47 (Michtav Mei'Eliyohu vol. II, pp.75- 6). " . . . Whatever we see in the world is . . .an instrument given to us for the purpose of serving Hashem yisborach and created for this alone. A rich man is given wealth to use for tzedokoh. If he does otherwise, he is stealing from the poor . . . and from Hashem who gave him money, i.e. the means of doing tzedokoh. He misuses it by taking it for himself and for his pleasures. Whatever Heaven gives is to be used for serving Hashem, not for satisfying physical desires. Misusing means that are given for serving Hashem diminishes Heaven's bounty because the idea of blessing is an abundance of means for serving Hashem [i.e. misusing what has already been given causes future blessing to be withheld] . . . "Chazal say (Nidoh 15) that before a fetus is formed a mal'ach asks Hashem whether the new individual will be strong or weak, wise or foolish, rich or poor -- but not whether he or she will be righteous or wicked. Before entry into this world, the tools that a person will need for fulfilling the soul's portion in serving Hashem are determined. He or she is given the abilities and the strengths that will be needed for doing the job. Chazal tell us that prior to birth, the soul itself is made to swear that it will `be righteous and not wicked.' In other words, it promises to use all its tools justly, for the purpose for which they were intended, not stealing them or misappropriating them. "So it is with all our resources. Eyes are for seeing for mitzvah purposes and for reading divrei Torah. Ears are for listening to the Hashem's living words . . . every limb has been given to us solely for use for Heaven's sake. The degree of use that Chazal felt should be made of the world's material pleasures is evident in such teachings as, `This is the Torah's path: Eat bread with salt and drink water by measure . . . ', `Make Torah your main occupation (Give it your full attention!) and your work secondary (without taking any interest in it whatsoever).' "And what do we do? We steal to a tremendous extent! And from whom do we steal? From Hakodosh Boruch Hu!" (ibid. pg.156) "Every person has a portion in Olom Habo, representing his portion in the revelation of Hashem's glory. All souls are hewn from beneath Hashem's Throne of glory. In other words, that is their source . . . Each one was created to play a part in achieving the world's purpose of revealing His glory, which will be ushered in and demonstrated through them. Everyone has a particular portion in this [process] . . . A person is given tools and assistance according to the precise requirements of his role. This also determines his partner in life; before birth it is announced in Heaven, "Ploni's daughter will marry ploni; this house is for ploni; that field is for ploni" (Sotah 2). These are all tools for a person's service of Hashem, assigned to him according to his soul's specific task . . . This is the meaning of mazel, destiny -- the mission and the tools that are assigned to each individual in advance. "A tzaddik is someone who does not take a drop of what has been given to him for his own ends but instead directs everything back to his Creator. He uses everything solely for honoring Hashem, in keeping with the purpose of Creation. He doesn't steal a moment or a penny for himself, nor does he misuse even a fragment of thought. How awe inspiring is such a level!" (ibid. p. 158).

Frugal Living One winter's night, I was fortunate to be learning with our teacher. It was freezing. He lit a little paraffin heater which was fitted with a wide wick and gave off a little heat. It was just enough to take the edge off the cold but the smell of the fumes made it stifling. I told him that since he travelled every year to England -- for the upkeep of the institutions that he founded there -- he should bring back an electric heater (of the type that was common in chutz la'aretz but not yet in Eretz Yisroel). "It costs money," was his response. In innocence, I pointed out that he went in order to benefit the institutions. "And not to benefit myself," he replied. "I don't have money for it." His frugality and his vigilance in avoiding any benefit from communal funds were amazing. As is known, when he arrived at Ponovezh he was unwilling to derive any monetary gain from a Torah position and he stipulated with the Ponovezher Rov zt'l, that he should work in the yeshiva's office in the afternoons for his upkeep. At the beginning, we would actually see him sitting in the office but the Rov persuaded him that he needed him for other kinds of holy work -- giving va'adim to smaller groups and the like -- that would be his "work" in the yeshiva. On this topic, we find in Michtav Mei'Eliyohu (vol. I, pg.30), "How foolish are those people who do not recognize how Hashem works -- their hearts remain attached to their material, animalistic desires. They live in the hope that everything will soon return to normal and everyone will do as he pleases. What a pity! They are like fish trapped in a net, or an animal inside a snare. They run back and forth to no avail. "Let us acknowledge in our hearts that it is so, and rid ourselves of all kinds of baggage that we have become used to dragging about. Let us devote ourselves wholly to serving Hashem, genuinely and with complete trust. If the thought, `What will we live on?' occurs to us, we shall answer the yetzer (whose question it is), `And if you have your way, do you know what you will live on?' "A person should refrain from having high material expectations from this world and should learn to manage on a little, as Chazal have said, `This is the Torah's path . . .' Earning a livelihood will then be easy for him, because Hashem yisborach has only decreed that a tiny number of people are to die of starvation and a person does not truly need more than bread with salt, water by the measure and to sleep on the floor. "We are aware that those who are attached to worldly pleasures will argue that this is extreme. [It is quite true.] By the same token, anyone who attempts to uproot an evil trait from himself is being extreme. All those who acquired their portions in the next world in a moment (Avodoh Zora 10, 17, 18) were extreme and there were only three of them altogether. They all utterly did away with their former ways of thinking and behaving and they attained an inner state of willing self-sacrifice through tremendous enthusiasm, thus acquiring their spiritual reward. What we are currently lacking is the fanaticism that results from strength of feeling and great enthusiasm. The general principle is that it is very easy for us to return to Hashem but only with enthusiasm alone."

Genuine Bitochon Elsewhere, in discussing making do with little and trusting in Hashem, he warns against confusing reliance in Hashem with laziness and explains why in dealing with others, one must make efforts and not rely on Hashem (ibid. pp. 194- 5). "When the focus of his life is on spiritual goals, a person automatically diminishes his material endeavors and the time he spends on them. To the extent of his yearning for spirituality, he is not dismayed by the lack of material success, for dismay is only felt where there is unfulfilled ambition. "However, one should beware of confusing laziness with bitochon. Some refrain from making an effort out of laziness, while claiming that they trust in Hashem. One must be aware that one will remain without whatever one neglected from one's work. Only trust in Hashem brings Heavenly assistance . . . not laziness. And nobody should mistakenly imagine that he can exploit a tendency to laziness in order to bolster his bitochon in Hashem -- not for its own sake, as it were. Trust in Hashem cannot be built up this way because the goal here is not to refrain from work but to attain certainty in bitochon in Hashem that leads to lessening worldly endeavors. Moreover, someone who works less out of laziness will also neglect his spiritual affairs and will end up idling. His remedy is to engage in arduous labor . . . "Some ask: If our worldly endeavors are ultimately ineffectual and I live up to this in my own life, why must I exert myself for the sake of someone else's affairs, advising him and building him a means of earning a livelihood? Why can't I trust in Hashem where others are concerned too? "The answer that is given in the name of the Baal Shem Tov zt'l -- that nothing was put into the world without a purpose and lack of trust in Hashem exists to be employed in attending to others -- is very hard to understand. If this really is lack of trust, how can one draw on one trait at one moment and another the next? How can one use trust for oneself and switch to lack of trust for others? "The gemora (Bovo Basra 10) tells us, `The wicked Tinneus Rufus asked Rabbi Akiva, "If your G-d loves the poor, why doesn't He provide for them?" Rabbi Akiva replied, "So that we should have the merit of doing so." ' A person should ensure that he conducts himself in accordance with his Creator's wishes. If Hakodosh Boruch Hu has sent us the needy for us to assist, how can we send them back to Him and say, `You provide for them?' "The posuk (Tehillim 55:23) says, `Cast your burden upon Hashem,' i.e. your own affairs. Hashem wants us to leave our needs to Him and He will meet them. When it comes to others, he sends them to us so that we should supply what they lack, so that we should learn how to practice kindness. If we have trust, there will be no way for us to practice kindness. He has therefore commanded us to make similar efforts on behalf of others to those made by someone who lacks trust in his own affairs. Of course, we have to remember that here too, everything comes from Hashem and what we are doing is purely to train ourselves in acting kindly."

Respect for One's Fellow Men One of the nights that I was in his house there was knocking at the door. I opened it to a woman who wanted to speak to the Mashgiach about her son, who was learning in the yeshiva. I explained to her that in the yeshiva it wasn't usual for a mother to come and discuss her son with the Mashgiach but she was adamant. While we were talking, the Mashgiach came over and asked what the matter was. His reaction was, "The mother of a yeshiva bochur wants to talk to me? . . . Please come inside . . .a yeshiva bochur's mother . . . " The woman related all her concerns about her son's future, particularly with regard to shidduchim that appealed to her and that did not appeal to her . . .the Mashgiach listened and vindicated her wishes . . . I followed the conversation carefully, amazed at how, just a moment earlier he had been occupied with lofty and sublime matters and had now descended to the delicate emotions of a concerned mother. "The root of our obligations in this respect lies in what we owe every other person as a person . . . And let us not imagine that this is some pious measure. It was not Hillel but Shammai who said, `And receive everyone with a pleasant countenance' (Ovos 1:15). This is an halachic obligation and whoever refrains from meeting it is stealing from others. Chazal tell us, `Whoever knows that a particular individual usually greets him, should offer his greeting first as the posuk says, "Seek peace and pursue it." If he greeted him and he did not return the greeting he is called a robber.' Rashi explains that this is like stealing from a poor man `who has nothing to steal except for not returning his greeting' (Brochos 6). "The poor man has nothing but his own self-respect. If you take that away from him by trampling his feelings, it's the worst kind of robbery possible." (Michtav Mei'Eliyohu vol. IV, p. 246)

Givers and Takers There is a kiosk in the square in Rechov Bartenura in Bnei Brak, towards the bottom of the east slope of the hill on which Ponovezh Yeshiva stands. The owner used to supply bochurim with glasses of milk on credit and they later settled with him. Some, with his consent, would pay their bills every few months. One Friday, a rumor went around that there was going to be either a currency change or a devaluation, which would automatically deprive the old currency of a significant portion of its worth. Some of the bochurim rushed to pay their debts. The owner of the kiosk poured out his sorrows to the Mashgiach, explaining that the bochurim had amassed debts and now, just before the currency crash, were hurrying to pay them. In a Friday night shmuess, HaRav Dessler spoke about the lack of honesty and integrity evident in paying off old debts in such a situation and the danger of a person's becoming a taker rather than a giver. He explains, "In his heart, the giver is unwilling to accept any free gifts; he yearns only to give and not to draw things that lie outside him towards him. When he receives something from another person, he thus feels the urge to pay for it and if he can't do so, he carries a feeling of indebtedness with him. This is what is called hodo'oh, meaning acknowledgement or thanks. "The continual aim of the taker however, is to pull whatever he can towards himself, whether by stealing, trickery or receiving gifts. In his heart, he feels that everything is his and is all meant for him. Thus, when he receives a favor from someone else, he doesn't feel at all obliged in return. He is the sort that is called a kofui tov, an ingrate. If, on occasion, you see him expressing thanks -- sometimes very nicely -- don't be taken in. It is just talk, without any inner conviction. It is because he wants to receive many more favors and generous gifts that he displays a facade of gratitude. Such thanks are thus just another form of taking. The general rule is that gratitude is an outgrowth of the wish to give, while ingratitude comes from the wish to take." (Michtav Mei'Eliyohu vol. I, pg. 46)

Deserving of Gratitude Rav Dessler would often be heard saying to the workers in the yeshiva who did jobs that he also benefited from, "Mit voss ken ich eich danken? (How can I thank you?)" Occasionally he would give them a small, rare sefer as a present, with a suitable inscription, as a token of his gratitude. We would sometimes wonder at this: The workers were duty-bound to perform their tasks -- why did they deserve thanks? Another passage in Michtav Mei'Eliyohu (vol. III, pp. 98-9) addresses this question. "The most elementary level of gratitude is for a person to realize that he should express gratitude -- even if only with a few words -- to a person who has done work for him or gone to trouble on his behalf. "The miser may still argue that there should be no obligation of expressing gratitude to parents for all their efforts in raising and educating their offspring. He will point out that parents derive tremendous personal satisfaction from devoting themselves to their children. Hakodosh Boruch Hu implanted the love of children in their parents' hearts, so that the parents will not despise the great trouble involved in their upbringing (as the Chovos Halevovos writes). What they do is for their own benefit and, he therefore maintains, deserves no thanks or appreciation. The Torah takes a completely different view of gratitude in general and of the honor that is due to parents in particular. "Chazal instruct us: `Do not cast a stone into a well that you have drunk from' (Bava Kammo 92). We are to demonstrate appreciation even to inanimate objects, although they went to no trouble for us and certainly in no way intended to help us. Chazal are telling us that our debt of gratitude is entirely independent of the motivations or efforts of our benefactor. Every recipient should feel it, simply because he has received something. A person who has adopted the trait of kindness, who aspires to give to others in every possible way, is capable of appreciating even the smallest of favors that he receives. He will want to do the giver some good in return and will want to return more than he received, or at least to express his wholehearted thanks. He will feel grateful because he received something; he won't deliberate over whether the other person went to any trouble for him, whether he even meant to help him at all, or some other motivation that he might have had. "Even if parents derive satisfaction from caring for their children, it in no way lessens the children's boundless debt of gratitude towards them. Children receive tremendous benefit from their parents who give them all that they have in life and are the channel through which they receive everything. Isn't this reason enough to earn parents their children's lifelong gratitude? "Chazal say, `When someone upsets his father and mother Hakodosh Boruch Hu says, "I did well by not dwelling between them for had I done so, they would have upset Me." '(Kiddushin 31). If a child distresses parents, it is a sign that he feels no debt of gratitude towards them because he tells himself that they had their own benefit in mind. Chazal show us here that this outlook can chas vesholom lead a person to imagine that he has no obligation to honor and love Hakodosh Boruch Hu. He could argue that since Hakodosh Boruch Hu created the world and its inhabitants with all their needs and wants, it is only correct that He should benefit them, have pity on them and supply all their needs. Furthermore, he reasons, the idea of work and toil are irrelevant to Him; He lost nothing in the process of creation. Why then, he will ask, should one be obliged to be grateful to Him? A miserly character, who is far from kindness and who only feels he has received something if someone else toiled on his behalf, is liable to arrive at such conclusions. He is incapable of grasping the extent of Hashem's kindness and remains far from thanking Him and serving Him. " `Whoever denies the benefit he has received from his fellow man will ultimately deny the benefit he received from Hakodosh Boruch Hu.' Whoever is incapable of proper gratitude towards another person lacks the means of being grateful to Hashem and to the extent that one adopts the trait of acknowledging another's kindness, he will be able to understand the countless demonstrations of Hashem's kindness."

Rav Dessler: The life and impact of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler
by Jonathan Rosenblum
ArtScroll/Mesorah Publications $23.99

Reviewed by Rabbi Joseph Elias
The Jewish Observer
January 1, 2001

Twelve years are not a long period in which to make one’s mark in the world. In the beginning of this biography, Jonathan Rosenblum points out that Rabbi Dessler’s public life stretched over no more than twelve years – from 1941, when he came to Gateshead to found its Kollel, to his petira (passing) in 1953 in Bnei Brak, when he had moved to become the Mashgiach of Ponovezh Yeshiva. Yet during this period he played an extraordinary role in the growth of Torah Jewry, leaving a lasting imprint on posterity.

Our Sages stress that men of great stature are rare, and therefore Divine Providence scatters them through the ages. Rabbi Dessler was such an outstanding personality – and he was chosen to live in a remarkable period and to make a seminal contribution to it. Rosenblum, who has previously earned our gratitude for his outstanding biography of Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetzky, among other writings, has succeeded in this work to capture the essence of his subject.

Rabbi Dessler’s life encompassed the traumatic destruction of the Eastern European Torah world, and the efforts to rebuild Torah in new locations; as product – and guardian – of the very best that pre-War Jewry possessed, he was able to transmit it to the new centers of Torah. This required not only greatness in Torah, but also a profound understanding of this new world, and the ability to address it in language that it understood. It is these qualities that emerge from this book.

There was a twofold way in which Rabbi Dessler placed his imprint upon his time: through his personality and through his teachings. They cannot really be separated from each other for, in complete harmony, one complemented the other. But each made its own powerful impact and deserves attention.

THE IMPRINT OF HIS PERSONALITY
Rabbi Dessler’s towering personality was the ideal embodiment of Kelm – a small town that represented unique spiritual heights. Rosenblum, carefully and at length, makes us understand the community, the Talmud Torah (as Kelm’s famous mussar yeshiva was known), and the personalities who molded Kelm. Their goal? To create individuals who were totally absorbed in serving G-d, with their emotions, desires and impulses, thoughts and actions, their relationship to their fellow beings, and to G-d Himself, all controlled by Torah alone. The means? The unique brand of Kelm mussar, a clear understanding of one’s self, and a commitment to the ways in which one could perfect himself.

Rosenblum cites many telling instances of how Kelm in general, and Rabbi Dessler in particular, put these demanding concepts into practice, and indeed many more examples could be added. Self-effacement and utter humility were absolute prerequisites. Thus Rabbi Dessler saw in honorific titles and public acclaim real danger for the recipient. As recounted by Rosenblum, he was most distressed that a shiur(class) of his had been advertised in the Morgen Journal. (However, he did not say that it would have been better not to have had the shiur. He always felt an obligation to teach Torah whenever he could – rather, he said that he would have preferred a handful of listeners instead of a crowd attracted by an ad; indeed, numbers were never significant to him.)

He totally subordinated any personal concerns of his to the demands of the klal(community). Davening before the amud at his venerated father’s Yahrzeit was extremely important to him – but one year, when he was called out of town on communal matters, he sacrificed this personal commitment (a similar episode involving Rabbi Dessler is recounted in the biography of Rabbi Elya Lopian, p. 238).

But Rabbi Dessler was not only concerned with the klal. He felt equally strongly his obligation to every fellow Jew. He insisted, when he headed the Gateshead Kollel which he had founded, that he should not be considered – and treated – any differently than the youngest members of the Kollel; but he was extremely concerned that each of them should receive utmost respect and consideration. After speaking at the Kollel on Wednesday nights, he would take the night train to London. However, there were always talmidim who surrounded him with questions after the shiur; he would never cut anyone short or reveal impatience, even when it meant missing the train.

After Seuda Shlishis in the Kollel, he would deliver a shiur, while at the same time a shiur was given in the yeshiva. Frequently a number of yeshiva boys sneaked over to the Kollel to hear Rabbi Dessler. He never commented – until one time when a short circuit plunged the Kollel into darkness. Only then, when nobody would be embarrassed, he spoke out in objection to this practice. Rabbi Dessler was extremely careful, deliberate and thoughtful in what he would say. I was therefore momentarily taken aback to read in Rosenblum’s book that he told the Kollel members many bitter, funny, and scornful stories about his experiences in the English rabbinate of that time (p. 122). But, of course, it was not idle talk; he would not have spoken that way unless there was a constructive purpose in his mind. As explained in p. 221, "to those [in the Kollel] who needed an additional incentive to fight against the temptations of a prestigious position, [Rabbi Dessler told] of the humiliations he suffered as a congregational rabbi."

The picture drawn in biographies of gedolim is all too often wooden and uninspiring. In contrast, the image that emerges from the pages of this book is a living mussar text that will inevitably challenge the reader to examine his own standards of conduct. Indeed, somebody commented that it is so overpowering that it might discourage any effort to follow in its footsteps. However, while the overall goal is so high, an effort to get closer is surely within every reader’s ability.

HIS TEACHINGS
Let us now turn to Rabbi Dessler’s teachings. As Rosenblum points out, his writings exert an extraordinary influence, and this is further reinforced by the works of his disciples. Notably, Rabbi Chaim Friedlander’s Sifsei Chaim, of which five volumes have so far appeared, elaborates and opens up deeper vistas on many issues that are presented in a more concentrated form in the five volumes of Michtav M’Eliyahu.

In drawing a magnificent picture of Rabbi Dessler’s time and personality, Rosenblum modestly declares (p. 353) that no summary could do justice to the wide range of his thought and that, in any case, such an assessment of Rabbi Dessler’s thought is far beyond his competence. However, this does not exempt us from the obligation to try, if we want to do justice to Rabbi Dessler’s impact on our age.

Actually, both in the body of the book and in the appendix, Rosenblum very clearly delineates a number of themes that are crucial in Rabbi Dessler’s thought – notably those with a close relationship to man’s ability and need to grow spiritually (the make-up of his inner self, his free will, the overcoming of his innate selfishness, the need to become a "giver," and his role in the community). These topics are the subject of traditional mussar; but as Rosenblum points out, Rabbi Dessler dealt with them in his own way and drew on an encyclopedic range of sources, from Zohar, Kabbala and Chassidus to the great thinkers and commentators of all ages. Most important, however, while he always emphatically stressed the need to work on improving oneself, he set his teaching into a wider and deeper framework, which we must not overlook and for which he drew on all the sources mentioned. Rabbi Dessler saw himself as a teacher of Torah faith and thought – necessary prerequisites for the Torah Jew which, in our generation, cannot be taken for granted, in the face of intellectual, social and moral challenges posed by our environment. Hence he stressed man’s role and responsibility against the background of the cosmic unfolding of the universe’s history, from Creation to Moshiach, resurrection, and the World-to-Come (thus his many references to Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto; cf. Michtav M’Eliyahu IV 150-156). He saw his particular function in helping his disciples to an understanding of the profound teachings of the Sages contained in Aggadata, following the lead of the Maharal. It was the depth of his teachings, and the light which they shed upon the major questions of life in our world, that account for the attraction and influence that they exercised on the most varied circles in Torah Jewry, and that undoubtedly will continue to serve as a guiding light for our times.

Rabbi Elias, Chairman of the editorial board of The Jewish Observer, is the author of a number of published works, including a new translation and commentary on Rabbi S.R. Hirsch’s The Nineteen Letters (Feldheim).