Posted on 08/22/25
Baltimore, MD – Aug. 21, 2025 – I stood in the doorway of the packed room. It was full of all types of religious Jews. As I stood there in my hat and beard and payos, there was a regular flow of young men with varying hairstyles and attire pushing past me to squeeze their way in to hear the words of Rabbi Daniel Kalish. It was surprising to me, since many of these young men didn’t seem to be the type to be so persistent to hear words of Torah. And there we were—young and old, men and women, from all walks of life, listening attentively to one of the most perceptive educators of our generation.
How was he able to do that? How could one message be given to such an eclectic group of people—people who behaved and looked so different from each other? The answer is that all the differences are only superficial, and that’s not the realm where the Rav was speaking. He was talking to the neshama, to the essence of the person. On that deep level, beneath all of the layers, we are one unified Knesses Yisrael. Chitzoniyus (externality) may separate us, but p’nimiyus (our internal makeup) unites us.
But how did the Rav access that level of p’nimiyus? I believe that it starts from him listening to his talmidim. You may wonder what I mean. Doesn’t every rebbe listen to his talmidim? Well, to a certain degree, yes. But Rabbi Kalish really listens. I once heard him talk about certain talmidim who came to shiur in yeshiva without wearing a yarmulke. Parents complained—how could the yeshiva allow this, and not tell them to put on a yarmulke? In this situation, the parents heard the students showing disrespect for Yiddishkeit, and they heard the rabbeim say nothing. But Rabbi Kalish heard something different. He heard the student scream out, by coming to shiur without a yarmulke: “I am incompatible with Torah!” And then, when the rebbe continued to give shiur and involve that talmid, he heard the rebbe scream back, just as loud: “Torah can be part of your life!”
Today, everybody wants to be heard. Not just the words that we are saying, but what we really mean. In our generation, we want a spouse, rebbe, and friend who will “really get us.” And to “get” someone else takes a special pair of ears.
But the job of a true mechanech is not over with that. He fine-tunes his ears to pick up every subtle nuance, and he then fine-tunes his message to be heard by the ears of the listener. He realizes that the student’s ears may not be as refined as his own. After he “gets” the student, he knows which message will speak to him. This is what I saw in Rabbi Kalish. He hears our generation, he “gets” them, and he delivers a message that will speak to them.
In contrast, the next day I was listening to a speech about interpersonal relationships given by a well-known speaker. A woman called in and said that she was having difficulty applying one of his ideas. There was a long back-and-forth between the speaker and the woman. The woman was clearly getting more and more frustrated, as she could not accept his chinuch approach. The feeling I got from listening to the back-and-forth was that the speaker didn’t really hear the woman. Regardless of who was right, the woman was asking a question, and she did not feel heard. Since the speaker didn’t really “get” her, he wasn’t able to give back a message that she could hear and accept. Undoubtedly, the woman left worse off than when she started. Not only was she struggling with something, but now her struggle was discredited. I thought to myself: “That speaker could really use some time with Rabbi Kalish.”
Soon afterwards, a colleague met with me and wanted me to use a particular chinuch approach on a specific talmid. This colleague is a respected mechanech and this approach has helped many talmidim. However, I told him that although his method is excellent, this particular student doesn’t have the “ears” to receive it. A technique can only be as successful as the student’s capacity to integrate it.
These two incidents, which occurred the day after Rabbi Kalish visited, underscored the vital necessity for all of us to integrate these two skills that he taught us: to really listen, and then to transmit a message that the listener can really hear. These skills are not only needed for dealing with struggling teenagers. They are crucial human relationship skills. If we acquire them, we can transform our marriages, our chinuch, and the relationships we have with our peers.