A Heart That Belonged to Torah: Remembering Rabbi Elyashiv

"Five years without Maran Rabbi Elyashiv, the Posek HaDor (decisor of the generation), leaves an enormous emptiness for all of us. Both in the things we saw, and even more in the things we didn’t," begins editor Shlomo Kook in his weekly column in B’Kehila, filled with deep personal memories and longing.

"For me, these have been five years of feeling orphaned, without my Rebbe.”

Anyone who was lucky enough to be in his presence can never forget the experience of seeing a true Torah king. Watching him learn, you could hear the sweetness in his voice. When he gave a shiur (Torah lesson), it wasn’t just intellectual, it radiated joy from deep within. His prayers were full of heart, and the way he responded to any Jew from the simplest person to a rabbi or leader, always carried the same seriousness and care, just like when answering weighty halachic (Jewish law) questions that impacted the entire Jewish world.

We remember his warm "guten morgen" each morning, his blessings offered in times of happiness or sorrow, and even his quiet firmness that could move anyone, including prime ministers and Supreme Court judges.

We miss it all. What’s left are sweet, cherished memories of the little we were privileged to see because of the merit of our ancestors, and the zechut (merit) of our father.

“The Heart is Sacred and Must Be Protected”

This week, Rabbi Elyashiv's grandson, Rabbi Aryeh Elyashiv, told me, "If you're writing, make sure you write this: there was no one in the world who was happier, true, inner happiness than my grandfather.”

The Rav lived with the joy of Torah, “The mitzvot of Hashem are upright, gladdening the heart.” And alongside that, he lived by a rule he often repeated: Don’t take things to heart.

Kook recalls when the Rabbi once explained this idea: “This is a principle in life. Only you get to decide what enters your heart. Sadness, insults, hardships may reach the entrance, but they should not come in. The heart is sacred. It must be protected. Only Torah and serving Hashem should be allowed inside. Nothing else.”

In a shiur at his beit midrash (study hall), Tiferet Bachurim, Rabbi Elyashiv shared a story from the Maggid of Mezeritch: A Chassid once asked for help with distracting thoughts during prayer. The Maggid sent him to a distant village, where he was forced to wait outside in the rain before being let in. The host finally welcomed him, fed him, and prayed with him but didn’t offer advice. After two days, the visitor explained his reason for coming. The host replied, “All I can tell you is this: you need to be the master of your house. If you don’t want to, don’t open the door.” Rabbi Elyashiv explained: “Each person must be the master of their own heart.”

He didn’t just say it, he lived it. Throughout his life, even in times of personal tragedy, he remained the master of his heart.

“I’ve Never Stayed Up All Night or Skipped a Meal”

What made Rabbi Elyashiv so remarkable is that he was a gadol (great Torah sage) who still speaks to every one of us. There are incredible stories about other Torah scholars who studied for 36 hours straight without food, sleep, or pause. Amazing dedication, but can most people relate to that? We hear those stories and think, "That’s not me. I need a snack. I need a nap."

But Rabbi Elyashiv was different. He showed us it’s possible to live a life of greatness while still being human.

He once noticed his great-grandson looking tired after a night of studying. The boy had stayed up for a “mishmar” (an all-night Torah session). The Rabbi asked him: “Why? What good does it do? At night you’re tired, and the next day you’re even more tired. Where’s the benefit?” Then he shared something amazing: “I have never stayed up all night. I have never skipped a meal.”

Of course, he didn’t eat much, anyone who saw him knew that. But what he needed to stay healthy, he didn’t skip. Why play with your strength and risk your learning quality? He slept enough to be alert. He would begin learning at 3:00 AM and take a short rest during the day. Everything was measured, consistent, and human. That’s a path we can all follow.

Even a Bar Mitzvah Boy Was in His Thoughts

So much has been written about Rabbi Elyashiv’s Torah greatness. But his character traits were just as inspiring.

When I was about to become Bar Mitzvah, my father asked Rabbi Elyashiv whether it was better to celebrate on the Shabbat before or after the actual birthday. His answer was thoughtful: “From a halachic point of view, either is fine. Do what’s easier for the family. But think about which haftarah (portion from the Prophets) will be shorter or easier for the Bar Mitzvah boy to read.”

He cared about people, even a 13-year-old boy.

Even in old age and weakness, Rabbi Elyashiv made no exceptions for himself. When I struggled to get up in the morning, I would picture him waking like a lion each night, focused and strong. That image gave me strength.

In halachic precision too, he made no exceptions. Every year after Pesach, due to his strict observance of the law of chadash (new grain), I would bring him a specific food item from a non-Jewish store abroad, something important for his health.

When I brought it to him, he greeted me with warmth and a blessing. But right after, he turned to his grandson and asked, “Nu, did you pay him?”

His honesty in financial matters was legendary. He never accepted vague answers like, “It’s our honor to help.” He insisted: payment must be made.

When I finally told him the price, he asked: “Is that a discounted price for me or the real price in the store?” He wanted full honesty always.

No matter how much we try to describe our teacher, Rabbi Yosef Shalom ben Avraham, we can never fully capture the presence of this angel among us. May his merit protect us in all things.