The Ostrovsker Rebbe was once honored to speak at a rabbinic convention. The Ostrovsker Rebbe proceeded to deliver an intricate and elaborate pilpul, mesmerizing the rabbis in attendance. After his speech, Reb Chayim Ozer, the Rav of Vilna and leader of the convention, approached him and remarked, I didn’t know you were such a gavra rabbah, a great man.
His intention was that although the Ostrovsker Rebbe was known as an “ohev Yisrael”, a great activist on behalf of Yidden, he was unaware of his extensive and intricate scholarship. The Ostrovsker Rebbe replied by quoting the gemara in Kidushin, which extols the greatness talmidei chachamim have even over the Torah itself.
And it cites a teaching of the rabbis as an example. The Pasuk says that if someone sins, they receive forty lashes. But the rabbis extrapolate and derive that in practice, a person only receives thirty nine. Why, asks the Ostrovsker, do we use this teaching as the poster child of the greatness of rabbis vis à vis the Torah?
There are hundreds of examples where the rabonon unexplained what the Torah really means. Why specifically this case? You see, continued the Ostravsker, the Gemara is telling us that the greatness of a talmid chacham is their ability to relieve a yid of even one measure of pain. Removing even one lash from a sinner, is what makes a great Jewish leader.
This is what it means to be a gavra Rabbah.
I’m reminded of this story by a perplexing Pasuk found in the opening of this week’s Parshah. Hashem tells Moshe that Paroh will soon have a change of heart and chase after the Jewish people. Veamar paroh el bnei yisrael, nevuchim heym baaretz. And Paroh will turn to the Jewish people and say they are trapped and confused in the desert.
And all the commentaries note that the language of the Pasuk seems deeply problematic. Paroh is turning to Bnei Yisrael and saying that they’re trapped. But there are no Jewish people left in Egypt. The yidden were already in the desert at that point. And any of the Jewish people who did not wish to leave had already perished in the plague of darkness.
The targum Yonasan Ben Uziel posits a fascinating fact: he explains that Paroh was talking to Doson and Aviram who had chosen to remain behind in Egypt, unwilling to leave with Moshe and the Yidden. Now we know that Doson and Aviram were constant troublemakers who challenged Hashem and Moshe at every possibility and ended up on the other side of the Red Sea.
But how is that? They didn’t even want to leave Egypt. Why were they allowed to remain alive during the Plague of Darkness? The Maharil Diskin provides a beautiful explanation. The Midrash teaches us that Doson and Aviram were taskmasters during the Yidden slavery. Much like the kapos in the concentration camps, the Egyptians appointed taskmasters to oversee their own brethren in their slavery.
And these kapos, or Jewish taskmasters, were ultimately responsible for the work getting done. And whenever a Jewish slave wouldn’t complete their task, it was these Jewish kapos that were abused. They bore the brunt of the Egyptian beatings. Doson and Aviram suffered brutally on behalf of their brethren, and it was in this merit that they were speared.
They lacked the faith to follow Moshe into the desert. They lacked the commitment to serve Hashem fully. But when the Jewish nation was suffering, they stood strong in their resolve. They took blow after blow, beating after beating, so that their brothers would suffer less. And this is where greatness lies, not only in our faith and commitment, not only in our study and prayer, but in our ability to alleviate the pain of our fellow. The greatest shoulders are those that were able to care for and carry someone else’s pain.
Therefore, as the Ostrovsker Rebbe said, a gavra rabah isn’t merely how much knowledge you have amassed. But rather how many challenges you’ve helped people pass. People only care how much you know when they know how much you care. Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos.
