Concealed Greatness

Rav Chaim Zev Malinowitz was a master of disguise. An onlooker would see an ordinary looking man, in a regular suit that could use a pressing, down hat that should have been replaced long ago, shirt occasionally sticking out, carelessly trimmed beard. Just another ordinary middle-aged Jew.

If someone wanted to prove that appearances are deceiving, Reb Chaim would have been Exhibit A. He was a phenomenal talmid chacham; yerei Shamayim; wise counselor; uncompromising paradigm of truth in learning, hashkafah, and halachah; and he was a compassionate friend, father, and husband. In short, he was an uncommonly concealed gadol. At ArtScroll, he worked closely with many outstanding talmidei chachamim, and all of them were in awe of his knowledge and judgment. He would review material after it was edited and considered ready for print — but nothing was considered final until Reb Chaim improved and approved it.

One top editor recalls that Reb Chaim changed two words in something he had written. “But why?” asked the editor. “I have a cheshbon,” said Reb Chaim. “Let’s go further.” Only much later did Reb Chaim explain. He enumerated several major commentators and felt that those two changed words would align the ArtScroll text with the general trend of them all. The editor was flabbergasted and justly so.

Once during a heated debate in his kollel, Reb Chaim was called to the phone. It was someone who needed guidance on a serious personal problem. When the call was over, Reb Chaim returned to his shtender and picked up the discussion virtually in mid-sentence. He had a phenomenal capacity to deal with a dozen areas of learning and chesed at the same time without losing his train of thought. An ArtScroll editor said mournfully, “Where will we find five people to replace him?”