A Heartstopping Example Of The Rav's Poetic Love for Rabbinic Law

Whenever I enter the classroom…I enter the classroom as an old man - with a wrinkled face and eyes reflecting fatigue and the sadness of old age. You have to be old in order to experience that sadness. It's a very strange sadness; it's the melancholy of remembering things, things which disappear, that don't exist. … opposite me are rows of boys, young boys with beaming eyes, beaming faces, clear eyes, radiating the joy of being young. 

… And I ask myself… can there be a dialogue between an old teacher and young students? Between a rebbe in his Indian summer and boys enjoying the spring of their lives? 

I start the shiur, I don't know what the conclusion will be. 

Whenever I start the shiur, the door opens, another old man walks in and sits down. He is older than I am. All the talmidim call me the Rav, he is older than the Rav. He is the great, the grandfather of the Rav; his name is Reb Chaim Brisker. And without whom no shiur can be delivered nowadays. 

Then, the door opens quietly again and another old man comes in, he is older than Reb Chaim, he lived in the 17th century. What’s his name? Shabsai Kohen- the famous Shach- who must be present when dinei mamonos are being discussed; when we study Bava Metziah, Bava Kamah. 

And then, more visitors show up. 

Some lived, some of the visitors lived in the 11th century, some in the 12th century, some in the 13th century, some lived in antiquity- Rebbe Akiva, Rashi, Rabbeinu Tam, the Ra'avad, the Rashba, more and more come in, come in, come in.  

Of course, what do I do? I introduce them to my pupils and the dialogue commences. 

The Rambam says something, the Ra'avad disagrees; and sometimes he's very nasty. Very sharp, harsh language he uses against the Rambam. A boy jumps up to defend the Rambam against the Ra'avad, and the boy is fresh- you know how young boys are fresh- so the language he uses is improper, he uses improper language. So, I correct him. And another jumps up with a new idea; the Rashba smiles gently. I try to analyze what the young boy meant, another boy intervenes, we call upon the Rabbeinu Tam to express his opinion, and suddenly a symposium of generations comes into existence. 

Generations! Young boys- 22, 23, 24 years of age- there are boys who are just 18 years old that are in my class. One generation. then my generation, then the generation of Reb Chaim Brisker, then the generation of the Shach, then the generation of the Rashba, the Ramban, the generation of the Rambam, the generation of Rashi, the generation of the Rabbeinu Tam, and then, I mean there is no end! What about the Rav Hai Gaon? What about Rebbe Akiva, Rebbe Elazar, Rav Yochanan ben Zakai? …

We all speak one language… We all chat, we all laugh, we all enjoy the company, and we all pursue one goal; we all are committed to a common vision…There is mesorah collegiality, friendship, comradeship between old and young, between antiquity middle-ages and modern times…

This unity of generations, this march of centuries, this conversation of generations, this dialogue between antiquity and present will finally bring the redemption of the Jew. 

…We belong to the same Mesorah community, where generations meet. Where hands, no matter how wrinkled and parchment dry one hand is and how soft and wan the other hand is, shake, unite, and in a community where the great dialogue continues…

-The Rav