Rabbi Yochanan Twersky of Tolna was born in 5666 (1906) to Rabbi David Mordechai Twersky. In his childhood, his father emigrated to the United States, and in his youth, he made aliyah to the Land of Israel to study Torah. There he also received rabbinical ordination, and in 5687 (1927) he returned to the United States. He married Rebbetzin Tziporah Pearl, daughter of Rabbi Moshe of Stratyn-Toronto, and became the Rebbe in Montreal. He worked to rescue Jews and help them acclimate to their new surroundings during the Holocaust years and assisted Chabad chasidim in establishing the Tomchei Temimim Yeshiva in Montreal. In 5715 (1955), he returned to the Holy Land, lived in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Bayit Vegan, and opened a study hall there. He regularly attended the chasidic gatherings of the Rebbes of Gur and Rachamstrivka, and towards the end of his life, many chasidim began to gather around him. He departed this world on the 25th of Kislev 5759 (1998) and was buried on the Mount of Olives.
Rabbi Chaim Hager of Ottynia (Ukraine) was born in 5622 (1862) to Rabbi Baruch of Vizhnitz, and grew up with his grandfather, the Tzemach Tzaddik, who was very fond of him. At the age of 13, he was ordained by Rabbi Shlomo Drimer, author of the Responsa Beit Shlomo, one of the most important rabbis of Galicia, and several other rabbis. He married Pessia Leah, daughter of Rabbi Yitzchak of Bohush (Romania), and after his father's passing in 5653 (1893), he established his court in Ottynia, with thousands of chasidim. After the Rebbetzin's passing, he married for a second time to Chaya Chasha, daughter of Rabbi Shraga Yair of Bialobrezig, and for a third time to the daughter of Rabbi Tzvi of Rozwadów. During World War 1, he fled to Vienna, and after the war, he returned and settled in Stanisławów near Ottynia. He departed this world on the 25th of Kislev 5692 (1931) in Krakow and was buried in Stanisławów.
"Tomorrow evening is the first night of Chanukah. I will bring the Chanukah menorah from the house in Bnei Brak to the hospital, and the Rebbe will light as he does every year at eight-thirty, yes?" the attendant, R' Eliyahu Dinkel asked Rebbe Yochanan of Tolna.
The Rebbe agreed with satisfaction, and the next evening the attendant arrived with the menorah in hand. He had even immersed it in the mikveh, as the Rebbe himself customarily did before lighting the first candle. But when he arrived, he found the other attendants perplexed. They reported that immediately after nightfall, the Rebbe had begun reciting the special Chanukah liturgy and hymns—HaNerot Halalu and Maoz Tzur—as he usually did each night after the lighting of the menorah. He was weak and his voice was barely audible, but the attendants leaned in and heard, to their astonishment, the Rebbe in the midst of the words he customarily recited after lighting. They were certain that he wished to light the Chanukah candles already, before the set time and even without the menorah his attendant R’ Dinkel was meant to bring.
Hearing what had happened, R’ Dinkel apologized, explaining that yesterday he had understood from the Rebbe that he did not wish to deviate from the set time for lighting the candles as he did every year, at 8:30pm, and therefore had arrived just now, close to the set time. But the Rebbe expressed no displeasure whatsoever. He gestured with his hand and smiled, as if to reassure him. Indeed, he had not asked to light before the time he had agreed to yesterday. He had only wished to recite the post-lighting hymns before lighting and did not explain why.
The menorah and candle were prepared, the Rebbe devoutly recited the three blessings: Lehadlik, She'asah nissim, and Shehecheyanu, and the first candle shone with a pure light, like the face of the Rebbe.
Everyone waited to hear the Rebbe reciting HaNerot Halalu after lighting that candles, but the Rebbe remained silent. They whispered in his ear; perhaps he had forgotten? They called out HaNerot Halalu loudly, but the Rebbe did not respond. He gazed at the candles with his face aglow, a slight smile on his lips, and said not a word. Family members arrived in the room. The Rebbe’s daughter and grandchildren addressed him, almost pleadingly: “Zeide (Grandfather), happy Channukah,” but the Rebbe did not respond.
Someone suggested to the Rebbe that he should distribute Chanukah gelt as was his custom, but this too went unanswered. “Has Grandfather been like this for many hours, not responding or reacting?” the grandchildren asked the attendants who had been on duty since the morning hours. They replied that the Rebbe had spoken today, his mind was clear, and he had engaged with people. Weak indeed, but lucid. Only now had he suddenly changed.
All night the tzaddik did not close his eyes, and in the morning, he washed his hands and continued to remain silent with his eyes open, clearly fully conscious but his lips sealed. Around ten o'clock, the doctor entered and noticed that the Rebbe’s vital signs were unusual. He looked closely and determined that the Rebbe had passed away. It was a death by Divine kiss. No one understood the meaning of this. Only when several days had passed, and those close to him reconstructed the day preceding his passing, did they remember a story that the Rebbe used to recount and repeat, especially during the days of Chanukah:
The holy Rebbe Chaim of Ottynia once raised an astounding question: Why is it not customary to recite the blessing of Shehecheyanu before departing from this world?! After all, a Jew prepares himself all his days for the separation from this lowly world and the transition to the world of truth to enjoy the radiance of the Divine Presence. When he is about to pass on and still has the strength to speak and bless, he should apparently say the blessing of Shehecheyanu, meaning “Blessed are You… who has enlivened us and sustained us and brought us to this moment.” Rebbe Chaim raised the question shortly before Chanukah, and concluded: “Mir vellen zich an eitzah geben,” meaning, “We will find a solution.”
That year, Rabbi Chaim of Ottynia was in the midst of a journey before the first night of Chanukah. When it was time to light the Channukah candles, the Rebbe was in Krakow, far from his home. The chasidim accompanying him noticed that the Rebbe was distressed that he didn't have his regular menorah with him. One of them set out, and after many hours of travel, returned with the menorah, reviving Rebbe Chaim’s spirit.
Rebbe Chaim prepared the candles, recited the blessings and recited the Shehecheyanu blessing of the first night aloud and with enthusiasm as was his way. He lit the candle, and after a short while, he departed to his eternal home…
(After reciting a blessing that precedes a mitzvah, one should not talk until he fulfills the deed. This is why Rebbe Yochanan did not speak between the time that he recited the Shehecheyanu blessing until he passed away).
The joy of these two tzaddikim on the day of their passing is well explained by a passage in Tractate Sotah:
“A mitzvah is a candle and the Torah is light.” The verse compares the mitzvah to a candle and the Torah to light. The mitzvah [is compared] to a candle, to tell you that just as a candle only protects for a time, so too a mitzvah only protects for a time. And the Torah [is compared] to light, to tell you: just as light protects forever, so too Torah protects forever…. This is akin to to a man who was walking in the darkness of night, afraid of thorns, pits, thistles, wild animals, and robbers, and he doesn't know which way to go.
If he chances upon a torch, he is saved from thorns, pits, and thistles, but he is still afraid of wild animals and robbers and doesn't know which way to go. [In the analogy, a person who merits to perform a mitzvah is saved from some calamities]. When dawn breaks [i.e., when he merits to learn Torah], he is saved from wild animals and robbers [from sin and suffering] but still doesn't know which way to go [perhaps his inclination will force him to neglect Torah, and the evil inclination and calamity will return]. When he reaches a crossroads, then he is saved from everything. What does the crossroads symbolize? [the Torch symbolizes a mitzvah; dawn symbolizes Torah; but what does the crossroads represent?]
Rav Chisda said: This is a Torah scholar and the day of death [Meaning in other words a Torah scholar on the day of his death, who knows that he has not failed and will not fail again].
Interestingly, it is specifically the Channukah candle, one of the most distinct mitzvot that matches the description of “a candle is a mitzvah,” that these two tzaddikim dedicated to their joy for having reached the “crossroads”—their day of passing. Indeed, the mitzvah of the Channukah candle is especially fitting for the end of a tzaddik's life: it is the last of the seven commandments decreed by the rabbis, and thus completes the count of mitzvot to a full “crown” (כֶּתֶר), whose value is 620, alluding to the 613 commandments from the Torah plus the 7 rabbinical commandments.
We learn of the authority the rabbis have to decree a mitzvah specifically from a prohibition: “You must not deviate from what they tell you, either to the left or to the right.”[1] This origin is particularly demonstrated by the Channukah candle—a positive commandment whose purpose is to negate impurities and darkness. It is precisely this jewel in the crown of all the commandments that more than anything else expresses the tzaddik's joy in all his service of God during his life: Torah, keeping away from evil, and fulfilling the commandments.
[1]. Deuteronomy 17:11.
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