Moshe Rabbeinu prayed and prayed, ultimately petitioning Hashem 515 times to allow him to enter Eretz Yisrael. In contrast, as noted by Megaleh Amukus, Aharon did not offer up a single prayer. He apparently accepted the degree issued by Hashem following the Mei Meirah, waters of strife, debacle, after which Hashem decreed that neither Moshe nor Aharon would enter the Holy Land. Horav Tzvi Bergman, Shlita, cites Yalkut Shimoni (Chukas) that quotes Hashem saying to Moshe, “Please do me a favor and tell Aharon about his upcoming petirah, for I am ‘embarrassed’ to tell him.” Obviously, Chazal’s words are, at best,unbelievable. When Moshe’s time came to leave this world, Hashem simply told him to ascend Har Ha’Evarim and prepare to take leave of this world. Moshe was the Rabban Shel Kol Yisrael, our nation’s quintessential Rebbe, yet Hashem spoke to him directly to inform him about his upcoming death. Why, then, was the Almighty “embarrassed” to inform Aharon? Furthermore, Hashem did not even command Moshe to relate the information to Aharon; rather He asked for a favor. What was the difference between Aharon and Moshe concerning their deaths?
The Rosh Yeshivah derives from this Yalkut a window into the atzilus, nobility of character, the lofty, selfless spiritual refinement of the man who aptly earned the appellation ohaiv shalom v’rodef shalom, loved peace and pursued peace. His greatness was such that Hashem was reluctant/embarrassed to speak to him concerning his impending death. The enigma still remains: Aharon HaKohen was not merely refined in behavior; he was also refined in essence. His reactions (as we see how he did not react to his sons’ tragic deaths) were not deliberate, but natural. His kindness and love for others were instinctive. It is as if his middos, character traits, were not his own, but expressions of a higher, spiritual essence that coursed through him. But what about Moshe? Aharon was certainly not greater than Moshe. This is why Moshe was the nation’s leader. Yet, Hashem had no issue with informing Moshe about his upcoming demise.
Apparently, Aharon’s level of atzilus superseded even that of Moshe. When Korach attempted to usurp the leadership from Moshe, the Torah writes, va’yipol al panav, “he fell on his face” (Bamidbar 16:7). Ramban notes that it is written in the singular – va’yipol – only Moshe prayed, not Aharon. Aharon felt unworthy of praying. He thought that perhaps Korach was right, and he should not be the Kohen Gadol. Furthermore, in the sin of mei merivah, he accepted the punishment, although neither he nor Miriam was involved in the sin of striking the rock. A lesser person would have cried, “Foul! I did nothing!” Aharon felt himself unworthy of praying; thus he accepted the punishment.
Aharon HaKohen’s refined nobility, inner dignity, and utter selflessness comprised a supreme spiritual achievement. Gedolei Yisrael throughout the generations have embodied this quality to the point that their very conduct defined atzilus.
The Alter, zl,m’Slabodka built an entire yeshivah on the foundation of atzilus. He taught and underscored the greatness of man – that every person carries a Divine image and must act accordingly. Talmidim were trained to walk, speak and behave with regal dignity. Greatness is not measured by how much a person acquires, but rather, by how much he is willing to relinquish.
Horav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zl, was the posek ha’dor, the most prominent and accepted halachic authority of his time; yet, he expressed his nobility through daily actions which blended together Torah knowledge, fear of Heaven and a deep sensitivity towards others. His nobility was the way that he lived. Towards the end of her life, his mother-in-law lost her eyesight. As a result, she was devastated by her inability to recite her daily Tehillim. Rav Shlomo Zalman took it upon himself to record the entire Sefer Tehillim personally, so that she could continue her practice unabated.
A couple once sought his advice on institutionalizing their emotionally-challenged fourteen-year-old son. While the Rav agreed it was necessary for the family’s well-being, he stopped to ask, “What does your son think?” When the parents admitted they had not asked him, the Rav was firm: “He must be encouraged and not allowed to feel that he is being betrayed.” He then invited the boy in and told him, “My name is Shlomo Zalman. I am the gadol hador (greatest halachic authority of the generation), and everyone listens to me. I want you to go to this school and represent me, looking after all religious matters there.” He even gave the boy semichah, rabbinic ordination, to ensure that he felt valued and respected in his new environment. In another instance, he stayed overnight in Tel Aviv for an orphan’s wedding – something he never did – just so the young man would have someone be present so that he could “show off” his wedding gifts the next morning, just as a parent would have been there.
Horav Aharon Leib Shteinman, zl, embodied a life of near total atzilus, not merely as an ideal he spoke about, but a reality which defined his every action. In his every endeavor – whether in Torah learning, communal leadership, or simple human interaction –he demonstrated a remarkable absence of self-interest and a complete sensitivity to the will of Hakodesh Baruch Hu and the needs of Klal Yisrael. He did not “act” with refinement; refinement was his natural state. Everything that he did was untainted by ego.
Those who observed him closely often sensed that he belonged to another realm. His decisions were never driven by personal inclination, but rather, by an instinctive alignment with truth, humility and daas Torah. Even in matters that others would consider mundane or routine, he brought a clarity and serenity that reflected a soul disengaged from self and fully attached to a higher purpose.
Upon arriving in Israel as a refugee in the early 1950’s, Rav Aharon Leib was issued a thin, plank board mattress by the Jewish Agency. He slept on that same mattress for over sixty years, replacing it only in 2012 for medical reasons. He consistently refused to upgrade his spartan apartment, insisting he had everything he needed.
While testing a fourth grade class, he would give a candy to every boy who answered a question correctly. One boy, however, struggled and could not answer even one question, regardless of its simplicity. After the test, Rav Aharon Leib called him over privately and said, “In Torah, reward is granted for effort – not results. All the other boys tried to answer one question, but you tried to answerr three, Therefore, you get three candies.” This simple act of kindness remained with the boy for years. He confronted and eventually overcame a number of challenges. Rav Aharon Leib’s empathy and thoughtfulness served as a lodestar for the boy’s navigation of a number of spiritual issues.
Despite his lofty status, he was a fierce advocate for children who struggled with learning. He instituted policies to establish schools specifically for learning-challenged children and those who hailed from immigrant families, who otherwise might be rejected by the system.
