Up Close with Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky: A Heart of Endless Compassion

Many people knew Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky zt"l as the Sar HaTorah, a towering scholar whose every moment was devoted to learning. But those closest to him saw another defining trait: boundless compassion.

In an interview published on the Dirshu website, Rabbi Uri Tiger, one of Maran’s closest confidants, spoke about his years of closeness to Rabbi Kanievsky and revealed a side of him that deeply moved anyone who witnessed it.

Endless Kindness

“Maran has a quality in which he is unmatched in this generation,” Rabbi Tiger said. “Endless kindness. He has compassion for every creature, and his heart is filled with love for every Jew in a way that is difficult to describe.”

Despite his intense devotion to Torah study, Rabbi Kanievsky would constantly pause his learning to answer people who came for advice or a blessing.

“For him, this was a tremendous sacrifice,” Rabbi Tiger explained. “He did not give up even a moment lightly from his time with the Gemara. But when Jews came seeking guidance, his heart would not allow him to send them away empty handed.”

For decades, Rabbi Kanievsky responded daily to dozens of letters filled with halachic questions, personal dilemmas, and requests for blessings.

Rabbi Tiger once asked him why he invested so much precious time answering every single letter.

Maran gave three reasons.

First, if his response would encourage someone to increase their Torah study, the time was well spent.

Second, since he was not formally the head of a yeshiva or kollel and did not directly establish students, he fulfilled the directive to “raise up many students” through his books and by answering those who sought his guidance.

But the third answer stood above the others.

“Compassion,” he said. “People wrote a letter and are waiting for a response. You cannot disappoint them.”

Rabbi Tiger noted something striking. He heard the first two explanations only a handful of times. But the third reason, compassion, he heard again and again.

“And even when he mentioned the other reasons,” Rabbi Tiger said, “he would attach compassion to them. It came from a genuinely good heart.”

This compassion was not limited to letters. It appeared in every act of kindness, large or small, and was done with joy and without hesitation.

Compassion for a Forgotten Bottle

One small incident illustrated this trait vividly.

Rabbi Tiger once visited Maran with his young children. After leaving, he realized on the streets of Bnei Brak that he had forgotten his infant’s bottle on the table in the rabbi’s home. He immediately turned back.

Downstairs, he met Rabbi Yehoshua Tzvion, Maran’s son in law, and mentioned that he had forgotten the bottle.

“You just solved a big mystery for me,” Rabbi Tzvion said. “Earlier, I saw my father in law going downstairs and out into the street, looking around for someone. It was very unusual. Since when does the Rav search the streets for people? Now I understand. He ran after you when he saw you had forgotten the bottle.”

When Rabbi Tiger went back upstairs, Rabbi Kanievsky greeted him immediately.

“Where were you?” he asked. “I was looking for you. Compassion for the child who was left without the bottle.”

Rabbi Tiger emphasized that the Rav did not frame it as returning a lost object or discuss whether he was halachically obligated to do so. He did not analyze whether it qualified as a formal case of lost property.

It was simply compassion.

Even someone of his stature, an elder for whom it might not have been fitting to run through the streets, did not see himself as exempt from caring for another Jew’s child.

That was Maran. A giant in Torah whose greatness was matched by a heart overflowing with kindness.