A Torah Giant in Silence: Remembering Rabbi Shalom Ben Zion Felman

A Lesson in Priorities: When Gogo'im (Apricot Pits) Become Worthless

Rabbi Shalom Ben Zion Felman, a renowned halachic (Jewish legal) authority and rabbi of the Nachalat Moshe community in Bnei Brak, was known for his unwavering diligence in Torah study and his extraordinary humility. He avoided publicity, refused official rabbinic posts, and lived with his wife and twelve children in a modest 2.5-room apartment. When a neighbor opposed an expansion, he responded simply, “It's not worth building even one square foot if it will cause an altercation.

One of his sons recounted a powerful parable that Rabbi Felman once taught his children using gogo’im, apricot pits that Israeli children often collect and trade like marbles. Two of his sons, now older, were debating whether to pass their once-precious collection to their younger siblings. Rabbi Felman called them into his study and challenged their reasoning: how could something so important last year now seem worthless?

After the children insisted that they had simply grown up and outgrown the game, Rabbi Felman gently concluded: “In life, there is something like gogo’im too; it’s called money. People run after it, do business with it, and argue over it. But one day, everyone realizes it’s not worth much after all,” he said. “It's important to recognize this truth ahead of time, before it’s too late.” That lesson stayed with his children, who would go on to become great Torah scholars themselves.

Humble Testimony That Made All the Difference

Rabbi Felman’s humility and integrity were evident even in moments of national tension. During the infamous “Yossele affair” in the early 1960s, when Rabbi Shlomo Mendelson of Komemiyut was tried for allegedly orchestrating a child’s disappearance, Rabbi Felman’s name appeared in court as a witness.

At the time, he gave a regular class in the Kollel Chazon Ish on Saturday nights to a group of about 25 top students from the Ponovezh Yeshiva. He testified under oath that on the night in question, he had taught his class in the women’s section of the study hall, turned off the lights, and locked the door, and no secret meeting had taken place.

When the judge skeptically asked how many regular attendees his class had, Rabbi Felman answered honestly: “Six or seven, regularly.” “That’s a class?” the judge scoffed. Rabbi Felman responded with heartfelt humility: “So I’m not a very successful teacher. What can I do if people don’t want to come? But I was the last to leave that night. I locked the door. That’s the truth.”

His honest, understated testimony was ultimately what convinced the court, and it helped exonerate Rabbi Mendelson.

Three Nails and a Father's Self-Control

One of Rabbi Felman’s sons described a deeply moving childhood memory. The family’s bed had broken from too much horseplay. Rabbi Felman, tools in hand, knelt to repair it while asking his young son to hold a board lined with large nails. The boy, distracted, left it lying on the floor. Rabbi Felman didn’t notice and sat directly on it. Three nails embedded themselves deep into his leg.

Despite the intense pain, he didn’t raise his voice. He quietly removed the nails and pressed his lips tightly, whether to contain the pain or to hold back words of rebuke, his son never knew. Overwhelmed with guilt, the boy burst into tears. When asked why he was crying, he sobbed: “Because it’s my fault. I didn’t hold the board.”

Then came his father's unforgettable reply: “If you want to do something good for me, go learn. Sit and learn. That will make me feel better.”

Years later, that same boy, now a respected Torah scholar, reflected tearfully: “Those nails pierced his leg a millimeter deep. But his words pierced my heart a mile deep."