First Fruits: Rabbi Avraham Weinberg

The wonderous genius, Rabbi Avraham Weinberg – may G-d avenge his blood – a member of the Board of Rabbis of Warsaw, head of the Beit Avraham Yeshiva, and author of the book “Reishit Bikurim” (First Fruits)

83 years since his death in sanctification of the Name of G-d. Elul 20, 5702 – Elul 20, 5785 (Sept. 2, 1942 – Sept. 13, 2025)

By: Yaakov Rosenfeld

A Holy Memory

On the 20th of Elul, the holy genius, Rabbi Avraham Weinberg z”l, was shot and killed along with his wife and son.

Eighty-three years have passed since that bitter day, and we at Ganzach Kiddush Hashem remember his name and his holiness with reverence. He was a giant of Torah, and devotely served his Creator for his whole life. This genius, who was among the mighty cedars of Lebanon, the great men of Torah in Warsaw, a city full of sages and scribes, was killed outside the train he refused to board. It was the train that was going to Treblinka.

The revered rabbi resisted. He resisted with force, and then the murderers shot him with deadly bullets, and he, the holy one, fell down, wallowing in his blood. May his merit protect us.

His Story

For the new generation, an orphaned generation that may have never heard of this miraculous figure, a little of his history will be recounted, in preparation for the anniversary of his passing, which falls on Shabbat, the week that the Torah portion of Ki Tavo is read.

Rabbi Avraham was born in Szczuczyn, Poland, the son of Rabbi Yisrael Nisan, and was known in his youth as “the prodigy from Szczuczyn.” In his youth, he was accepted into the Sochaczew yeshiva and he studied Torah from the great men of the generation, the genius and righteous Rebbe, Rabbi Avraham Bornstein z”l, the author of the book “Avnei Nezer.”

He later wrote in his book:

“I thank G-d very much… who has placed me among those who sit in the beit midrash (study hall) and in His great mercy has placed it in my heart… and has guided me in a straight path to draw water from the well of living water, the source of wisdom and understanding, the great rabbi in the Diaspora, the great man of G-d, the holy minister of the Torah, the Rebbe of Sochaczew, and although I was not privileged to understand the depth of his holy words at that time, as one who enters the shop of a perfumer perceives a good scent, and the benefit of planting is to conserve its fruits after a while.”

His heart and soul was connected to his rabbi, the “Avnei Nezer,” and their souls were intertwined. Already when he was young, he clung to the fires of Kotzk chassidism that burned in Sochaczew, and after his rabbi, the “Avnei Nezer,” passed away, he clung to his son, the “Shem MiShmuel, and afterwards to his son the “Chasdei David” z”l.

Rabbi Avraham was a man of great intellect, and the theoretical method of learning of his rabbi, the “Avnei Nezer,” captivated him. Throughout his life, he was a conduit for transmitting this method of learning to future generations, both in his wonderful lessons and in his book “Reishit Bikurim.”

In the year 5675 (1914-5), he established his home with the daughter of the chassid, Rabbi Moshe Kowalski, one of the great men of Sochaczew chassidism. In Warsaw, a major Jewish community, he built his home. His father-in-law, who lived in Warsaw, supported him generously.

His life in Warsaw was dedicated to the Torah and the worship of G-d, and although he never left the fold of halacha (Jewish law), he was involved with people and never turned a blind eye to the plight of others, and with the warmth of his heart he was involved in matters of kindness amidst the public and with private individuals.

The multitude looked upon him as a supreme holy person. They whispered behind his back that he was wonderfully versed in the secret teachings and Kabbala, but he, as was customary in Sochaczew, the place of his upbringing, never spoke about these matters, and he never revealed his involvement in these matters about which it is said, “The glory of G-d conceals the thing.”

His prayers were something special; he poured out his heart like water, and many would stand aside and watch him as he bowed before his Creator. On the holy Shabbat, it seemed that his soul was overflowing with worship and devotion. His eyes shone and his face burned with the beauty of the holy Shabbat, but everything was performed with humility of grace and the sweetness of the Garden of Eden. His pure work never attracted too much attention.

His daily routine was wonderful: in the morning he would study his regular lesson in the Gemara, and then he would meditate on the holy Zohar. After Shacharit (the morning prayers), he would study the Gemara while wearing the Rabbeinu Tam style tefillin. On Friday nights, he would meditate on the Torah until morning and write Torah thoughts. Even on the holy Shabbat night of the winter months, he would stay up all night and burn with the fire of the Torah and the worship of God throughout the day and night. His prayer on Shabbat was quiet, in silence, but all his bones sang a song to the living God, his heart and flesh resonated with wonderful vitality, and a supreme holiness emanated from his pure form.

He Maintained Many Disciples

He himself preferred to remain in the background, but his rabbi urged him to give lessons to young students, and so he founded his yeshiva, “Beit Avraham,” and would teach Torah to students every day from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon. His lesson, which was held over five consecutive hours, was in the style of his rabbi the “Avnei Nezer”: constant striving to understand the words of the Rishonim, refining the words of halacha according to the methods of the Rishonim and Acharonim, and descending to the very end of their understanding of every detail. His students were extraordinary geniuses, well-versed in Shas and poskim (rabbinical decisors), but they struggled to understand his profound lessons.

He did not prepare his lessons in advance. He believed that the student should learn from his teacher how to structure the process of understanding a matter. Therefore, he would sit with his students and together with them build enormous edifices of ingenious innovations. He would begin the lesson by studying the Gemara as if he had never studied it, and then he would begin to build layer upon layer with deep understanding, until the words illuminated the hearts of his students as if they had been given from Sinai.

Once, he conversed with Rabbi Meir Shapira z”l, when they visited his home in Warsaw and consulted with him about the method of delivering the lessons, and claimed that he was not comfortable with the fact that the teachers were preparing the lessons and lecturing them to the students. It is comparable, continued Rabbi Meir Shapira, head of the Chachmei Lublin yeshiva, to his guest, to the owner of a large bakery who appoints his son to sell loaves of bread. His son will very quickly grasp the art of selling, but he will not grasp the art of baking because he has not seen how dough is prepared and how to bake.

A yeshiva student, Rabbi Avraham argued, must learn how to “bake” a lesson, how to construct a topic. Only in this way will he grow into a wise student, and if the teacher of the lesson presents him with ready-made and constructed things, he will never learn how to construct a topic.

His lessons had the flavour of the Garden of Eden, and his students would wander in the world of the Rishonim with deep understanding and unsurpassed joy.

The great students of the “Avnei Nezer” would often visit him and amuse themselves with the Torah teachings of Rabbi Avraham, who was one of their rabbi’s greatest disciples (incidentally, he exchanged responsa with his rabbi, the “Avnei Nezer,” see for example Avnei Nezer, section 124).

In the year 5690 (1929-1930), he published his book “Reishit Bikurim” (First Fruits) on Tractate Bechorot. The book was enthusiastically received by Torah scholars and became a foundational book on this tractate, on which there are few commentaries. He himself invested time and money in this book precisely for this reason, that there are not many brilliant commentators on it.

In 5695 (1934-5) he was elected to serve on the Warsaw Rabbinical Committee, but at the same time he continued to give lectures and write books. During that period he spent a great deal of time writing a book on Tractate Zevachim, but unfortunately the manuscript was lost during the Holocaust, and the Jewish People lost a wonderful and clear book on this difficult tractate. Now, with the beginning of the study of Tractate Zevachim in the Daf Yomi (Talmud study system where a page of Talmud is learned per day), how helpful his great book could have been for thousands of students studying this tractate. And about this it is said: It is a shame that it was lost.

From His Torah Thoughts

The best scholars, the geniuses of Warsaw, would drink his words with thirst and huddle around him. On the holy Shabbat, they would gather in his house and hear Torah thoughts from him, and on the eve of the holy Shabbat, the week of the Torah portion of Ki Tavo, where the Bikurim are written about, we will bring a wonderful innovation from the fruits of his thought, from what he gave over at the third meal according to the group of Warsaw geniuses who sat in his house and warmed themselves by his light.

The question: why is the portion of “And Amalek came: (the end of the Torah portion of Ki Teitza) next to the portion about the Bikurim (the beginning of the Torah portion of Ki Tavo). Another question: Why does someone who is a convert or does not have land bring first fruits and not read the reading from the Torah portion (“My father was a wandering Aramean,” etc.) because of “demachzei keshikra” (which is read as a lie, as in the land that you gave me and he has no land, whereas if the convert says “my father was a wandering Aramean and came down from Egypt,” he too would appear to be lying, since his ancestors did not go down to Egypt). Why should he not bring first fruits and read the Torah portion as one who simply reads the Torah?

He explained: The point of the first fruits is that a person sets aside the first fruits of his harvest to show that all his labour on earth is to please G-d, the Blessed One. Even though he works with his hands and cultivates his land with toil and sweat, his main intention and goal is to “please G-d” in such a way that his physical labour will bring him closer to serving his Creator. And indeed, the main point of Amalek is that when the people of Israel are surrounded by clouds of glory and surround the Tabernacle, when they are nourished from the heavens and the glory of G-d overshadows them from the Tent of Meeting, then it is possible to worship G-d and be “spiritual.” However, when the people of Israel inherit the land like all other nations, and work their land, and become immersed in physical activities, they will be cut off from the Divine Being because seemingly physical activity, no matter how essential it may be, is a contradiction to the closeness of G-d and the work of the Creator. According to Amalek and his klipot (singular = klipa. Things that hide G-dliness), the two things do not go together. A person must decide whether he is a “ladder to the earth” or “the top reaching the Heavens.” The earth and the Heavens cannot coexist. This is essentially the war of Amalek until the end of all generations, and this is the reason why the two Torah portions were based on. Because Amalek fights against “and it came to pass that you came to the land.” This is also the reason why the first fruits cannot be brought while reading something that appears to be a lie, because Amalek is a klipa of a lie, while [the people of] Jacob is the measure of truth. Therefore, a convert or one who does not have land, those whom the Torah reading would present as appearing to be a lie, bring first fruits but do not read.

This Torah thought reflects some of the purity of his heart and the quality of the Kotzk chassidic thought in the Sochaczew style that was a lamp to his feet. Therefore, his book, which was based on the quality of true reflection, devoid of twists and hollow explanations, is so fitting for its name that Rabbi Avraham chose from his pure heart: “Reishit Bikurim”

In the Days of Fury and Wrath

In the month of Elul 5769 (1939), World War II broke out, and then Poland became a valley of suffering. There are no words to describe the suffering and torture experienced by the large and deep-rooted community, the largest observant Jewish community in the world.

And throughout those days of mourning, Rabbi Avremel (diminutive of Avraham) continued the gentle and magical song of his life. He continued to lecture, and he himself toiled in Torah and the service of G-d day and night. At the same time, he stood up for the suffering and tortured Jews of the ghetto and showered them with comfort. Jews would come to ask questions about halacha, and he would answer with love and patience. This chapter was characterized by “questions that the time has called for,” such as the question that representatives of a chassidic group asked him about whether they were allowed to go out into the public domain on Shabbat with the yellow patch on their clothes.

His many students, who were united in the framework of his “kibbutz”, did not cease to visit his residence, and he, with a good eye, taught them Torah and strengthened them with words of faith and trust in G-d. Who would not have needed a little encouragement, a kind word of hope and optimism at that time?

His students in the ghetto multiplied day by day. Among them, a group of sharp-minded men stood out the most. They were immersed in his residence in the love of Torah and acted in the light of his instructions with love and fear. They were hungry and exhausted, but their faces shone and their eyes exuded a holy fire of enthusiasm and closeness to G-d.

Witnesses reported that Rabbi Avraham’s students sat and studied as if everything that was happening in the world around them did not concern them at all. They never looked for labour and certainly did not change their chassidic attire; they sat with devotion, glued to the Torah. Thus the days passed, until one day Rabbi Avraham was kidnapped from the book he was studying and taken to the terrible train bound for Treblinka, and it was filled with love – the love of the Jewish People for their Father in Heaven, the love of the Jewish People that even when they were at the threshold of Hell, they did not forget their Creator and went with a clear mind to sanctify the Name of Heaven.

“Despite the difficult conditions in the Warsaw Ghetto, he continued to teach the group of young men, with Rabbi Aryeh Tzvi Fromer, in a bunker at 14 Mila Street. He refused to eat dishes prepared especially for the rabbis, and ordered his family members to eat only what was prepared for the general public.”

“When the deportations to extermination began, he continued to teach his students and refused to accept work in the German workshops, even though anyone who did not have a work permit was in mortal danger. On the 20th of Elul 5702 (Sept. 2nd, 1942), the Nazis took several students towards the train to Treblinka. Rabbi Weinberg walked at their helm towards the train. The rabbi refused to board the train and was shot to death. His wife and only son also perished with him.”

“Some of his students who survived continued their studies, and later joined the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising.” (This excerpt is from Wikipedia)

“Rabbi Avraham did not want to leave his students and continued to teach his lessons, until one day the murderers appeared in the middle of the lesson and took several students. Their rabbi, Rabbi Avraham of Szczuczyn, led them towards the train destined for Treblinka. This was on 20 Elul 5702. The Gemaras remained open on page 19 of Tractate Bechorot. It is said that the rabbi refused to board the train and was then shot by the Nazis. His wife and only son also perished with him in sanctification of the Name of G-d. Some of his surviving students continued to study, and over time joined their brothers rebelling in the Warsaw Ghetto.” (this excerpt is from the Zachor website)