I was asked by my dear son-in-law, Yaacov Wahrhaftig, to write down a few words about Moreinu HaRav Gedalia Dov Schwartz, zt”l, who passed away this past week, Erev Shabbat Parshat Vayeshev and Erev Chanukah.
To be totally candid, I am not sure that I am up to the task. It’s not because I didn’t know Rav Schwartz. I knew him for over 30 years, from the day he came to Chicago to be the Av Beth Din of the Chicago Rabbinical Council. And it’s certainly not because I didn’t work closely with him, because for many years we worked extremely closely, especially when I became president of the CRC and an active member of the executive committee, the geirut committee that deals with conversions, and the kashrut commission. I worked with him, consulted with him, talked privately to him and saw his greatness as both a leader, a posek, a rav, and his humility as one of God’s truly special creations. Yes, I knew him well.
But who am I to try to describe him, to convey his greatness, to convey to you, the reader, who and what he was? When I met with him, he was always welcoming, always encouraging. But when I met with him I also felt a certain sense of reverence knowing that I was meeting with an extraordinary individual, a true gadol baTorah and a manhig, a leader of klal Yisrael. The last thing that I would want to do is to describe him in ordinary terms, for he was far from ordinary, in many ways far from my very limited level of comprehension.
In addition to that, the Gemara is very particular that one should use precise terminology in being maspid, in eulogizing someone. The Gemara says that one should not add or detract from that individual. But how do you do that when you talk about him and his true greatness?
We are now in the midst of Chanukah, when we light the menorah and proclaim our victory over the Greeks, when we restored the glory of the Temple and Bnei Yisrael returned to Hashem. That candle that shone so brightly gave us hope, confidence and inspiration and renewed our commitment to Hashem and to His mitzvot. Rav Schwartz was that candle, that candle that shone so brightly, that led the way, that gave us chizuk, strength, and that built a renewed community in Chicago. People are drawn to a candle, to its light and its warmth, and people were drawn to Rav Schwartz for the same reasons. He was kind, encouraging, gracious and humble who welcomed everyone with a smile, but he was also wise and perceptive. A man, in the words of Pirkei Avot, who was able to see the nolad, the future, the consequences of one’s actions. He was an incredible talmid chacham who never forgot anything he learned. I was amazed at his bekiut, his penetrating and all-comprehensive scholarship. I was once in the office and we were discussing whether an elderly shochet should retire. He pulled out a Yoreh Deah, turned to some obscure citation at the end of the page, a commentary that none of us were familiar with, and there before us was the answer. It was a remarkable sight. And he was a strong defender of Torah mishamayim and never deviated from the halacha and its teachings.
But he wasn’t all black and white either. You never knew what his opinion would be. There are times when his piskei halacha, his opinions, surprised me, when his ability to combine halacha and compassion stood out. And as I said, he was very, very wise. I once had an issue in my shul and I went to him for some advice, and for a psak as to what I should do. He looked at me and smiled and he said, there are times when a rav has to be not only a good posek, but a sensitive politician. I took his advice, as I always did, and the problem was resolved.
He was the candle that shone, that lit up our lives and showed us the way to make our community better. But Rav Schwartz was also like Yosef: he went out into the world to serve the Jewish community. He went to small communities to bring the teachings of Torah and Yiddishkeit, and in each community he left his mark. All segments of the Chicago Jewish community loved and respected him and looked at him for guidance.
He was an “ish shalom” who always pursued peace and who together with Rav Levin, the Telsher rosh yeshiva, unified the religious community and made Chicago truly unique among the communities of America. I will miss him, we all will miss him, for there was none like him.
And now may I add something else—which may be controversial but I feel a need to say it. The truth is that we in the so-called Modern Orthodox, Dati Leumi community have very few gedolim, true gedolim, to lead us. The Rav, Rav Aharon, Rav Lichtenstein, Rav Rabinowitz are all gone. We are bereft of individuals whom we can identify with, who represented their positions with pride and with the scholarship to back it up. Rav Schwartz was clearly in that category. He was our rav, our leader, our manhig and he represented all of those qualities that we could identify with and cherish. We have a lot of spokesmen but we lack true gedolim. We need true talmidei chachamim who can learn from him, emulate his midot and scholarship and lead our community. We are “aveilim” who have lost the crown for our community and who are searching for people like him to assume the mantle of leadership. And, personally, I don’t know if we will ever find one like him.
Rav Schwartz was 95 when he passed away. He, Baruch Hashem, had length of days. Perhaps he had arichat yamim because of his love and respect for his parents, for his compassion for klal Yisroel, and for his love of Eretz Yisrael He was the most remarkable husband that you could meet and he had great nachat from his family. But now is the time when he will receive his true and just reward in the Olam HaEmet.
תהא נשמתו צרורה בצרור החיים
Rabbi Dr. Harvey Well is rabbi emeritus, Congregation Or Torah, and superintendent emeritus, Associated Talmud Torahs of Chicago.
