The Torah world mourns the passing of Reb Reuven Yoel Harpenes ז״ל, of Stamford Hill, England. He was a brilliant talmid chochom, and a cousin of one of my Rebbeim Rav Yisroel Dovid Harfenes shlita, (one of teh leading Poskim in teh United States. Reb Reuven was the author of the monumental 630-page work Sefer Lechem Abirim, a comprehensive commentary on the entire Chumash that weaves together Gemara, Midrash, Zohar, and the teachings of the great Mussar masters. Rav Yisroel Dovid Harfenes shlita visited him a number of times during his illness and encouraged him to keep learning and to publish.
Reb Reuven Yoel was also well-known as an extraordinary Baal Chessed and a machnis orayach par excellence.
He was niftar on 3 Shevat 5786, after being purified through suffering, and was laid to rest at the Derech Chaim Cemetery in Beit Shemesh. He was in the United States for treatment at Montefiore Hospital for the past 7 months. His levaya took place in Monsey.
Reb Reuven Yoel was the son of the illustrious Rabbi Gershom Harfenes ז״ל, a distinguished talmid chacham who made lasting contributions to Torah scholarship. Rav Gershom published critical editions of Teshuvos HaGeonim, preserving the precious responsa of the great Geonim of Babylon for future generations. He also authored Geresh Yerachim, a remarkable Haggadah that enriched countless Seder tables. Rav Gershon passed away on Erev Pesach 5773. Reb Reuven Yoel’s mother, the righteous Marat Esther ע״ה, daughter of Reb Eliyahu, was a true eishes chaver who devoted herself to the honor of Shabbos and to chinuch in the path of our forefathers. Together with her husband, she helped rescue precious Jewish neshamos from spiritual destruction after the Holocaust, and merited to see most of them establish upright generations and glorious Torah homes. She returned her soul to the King of the Universe on Shabbos night, Shushan Purim Katan 5784.
Growing up in such a home, Reb Reuven Yoel absorbed the mesorah of authentic Torah scholarship combined with genuine ahavas Yisrael. His grandfather survived Auschwitz and testified that even in that valley of the shadow of death, he never let a day pass without learning at least one perek of Mishnayos by heart — a legacy of mesiras nefesh for Torah that Reb Reuven Yoel carried forward.
Reb Reuven Yoel was profoundly influenced by his rebbe, Rav David Smiss zt״l, whom he describes in Lechem Abirim with extraordinary emotion: “He was a tremendous wonder in our generation, who learned Torah lishmah, and his face shone like the face of the sun. He was expert in the entire Torah literally by heart, like an ever-flowing spring.”
When Reb Reuven Yoel approached the Tzaddik of Nikolsburg שליט״א to request a haskamah, the Rebbe instructed him to put his name on his sefer — something he found very difficult in his great humility, but which he accepted as the word of a tzaddik. Throughout Lechem Abirim, he refers to himself humbly.
His magnum opus, completed just months before his passing — reveals a soul that burned with love for Torah, concern for the spiritual welfare of his generation, and an urgent desire to strengthen weakened neshamos. “In our days,” he writes, “the teaching of the Mishnah has been fulfilled: ‘From when is everyone permitted to gather gleanings? From when the nemushes have departed.’ The neshamos in our generation are weakened and need strengthening. And when no doctor is found, anyone who knows how to apply a bandage has an obligation to help save neshamos.”
His sefer is a lifeline thrown to a generation struggling with unprecedented spiritual challenges. With warmth and clarity, he addresses the obstacles that prevent contemporary Jews from tasting the sweetness of Torah, and provides practical guidance for overcoming them. He weaves together mussar, pshat and nistar, making kabbalistic concepts accessible while grounding everything in practical avodas Hashem.
We live in a generation where spiritual growth comes hard. Everything feels like an uphill climb. Know this: teshuvah is not a sprint — it is a marathon. You will not transform overnight. You will stumble. You will fall. You will feel like giving up. But the person who runs a marathon does not quit when his legs burn — he keeps moving forward, one step at a time. So too with teshuvah: the only failure is stopping. Never despair. Never give up. Just keep going. Even if it takes the rest of your life, that journey is the purpose of your life.
Why doe sefer Bereishis devote many psukim to say how Hashem create both “heavens” and “earth”? To teach us that life is meant to have ups and downs. When you soar spiritually, find Hashem there. But here is the secret: when you hit rock bottom — when davening feels hollow, when learning feels dry, when everything seems to be falling apart — the avodah you do at that moment is infinitely more precious to Hashem than anything you accomplish when things are easy. Dovid HaMelech in Tehillim says: “If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, behold, You.” He is with you in the darkness. Your struggle is the purpose.
A businessman tracks every dollar. He analyzes what works and what doesn’t. He hires consultants. He would never run his business casually- his livelihood depends on it! Yet when it comes to Torah — which is your eternal livelihood — do we invest the same care? Ask yourself: When do I learn best- morning or night? What distracts me? What helps me focus? Where do I waste time? Track your spiritual profits and losses with the same seriousness you would track money. Your olam haba is worth more than any business.
My grandfather was in Auschwitz — the valley of the shadow of death. He testified that from the day he came of age, not a single day passed without learning at least one perek of Mishnayos — even there, even then, reciting it by heart amid the horror. If he could do it in Auschwitz, what is your excuse? There is a special chamber in Gan Eden for those who learn Mishnah daily. Make it non-negotiable: no day without Mishnayos. A few minutes after davening. Every single day. This alone guarantees you are a ben Olam Haba.
If Torah feels dry and burdensome, there are only two possibilities: Either you have never truly tasted it — like someone who has never eaten a delicacy and doesn’t know what he’s missing. Or your neshama has barriers blocking the sweetness. What are these barriers in our generation? Forbidden images that contaminate the mind. Forbidden foods that dull the soul. Hours wasted on empty entertainment. Addictions that consume every good part of you. These create spiritual scar tissue that blocks the light. The cure? Remove the barriers and increase learning!
There are two kinds of tzaddikim. One is like a fur coat — it keeps the wearer warm, but no one else. He learns, he davens, he grows — but he affects no one around him. The other is like a furnace — it warms the entire room. He doesn’t just grow himself; he ignites others. Which one are you? Don’t say, “Who am I to influence others?” In a place where no one is stepping up, you must be the one. Share a dvar Torah. Invite someone for Shabbos. Learn with a struggling Jew. Become a furnace.
Avraham Avinu went to extraordinary lengths to avoid fighting with Lot. We learn from this that holding your tongue in a quarrel — when every fiber of your being wants to lash out — is one of the most precious things you can do. The pasuk says, “The stone the builders rejected became the cornerstone.” The things that seem small, insignificant, beneath your dignity — swallowing an insult, staying silent when you’re right, walking away from a fight — these “rejected stones” are what Hashem treasures most. Specifically when it’s hardest is when it counts the most.
Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 students were Torah giants — yet they died in a plague because they didn’t treat each other properly. Their Torah could not protect them. The Gemara asks: What should a person do to be saved from the birth pangs of Mashiach? The answer: Engage in Torah and Chessed. Torah alone may not be enough. One who says “I have nothing but Torah” — meaning he doesn’t perform chesed — doesn’t even have Torah. The two are inseparable. Build your Torah on a foundation of kindness, or it will not stand.
When you see an unfamiliar face in shul, do not look away. Walk up to him. Shake his hand warmly. Greet him with “Shalom Aleichem.” Ask where he is staying. Does he have a place to eat? Somewhere to sleep? Does he need help with anything? The Gemara teaches that if a Jew is left without food or accompaniment, those who could have helped bear responsibility — they are considered like those who spill blood. This is not exaggeration. That stranger may be an angel — or simply a lonely Jew who needs to feel that someone cares. Either way, you are being tested. Pass the test.
There is bitachon — trust in Hashem — and then there is something higher: temimus, wholehearted faith even when everything seems to be going wrong. In previous generations, neshamos could serve Hashem amidst open miracles, prophecy, and revealed Divine presence — and some still failed. Those neshamos have returned in our generation. Their tikkun — and ours — is to serve Hashem specifically in darkness, in confusion, in “hester panim” — when we see no miracles, feel no inspiration, and everything appears random and cruel. This is not a punishment. This is our unique mission. To believe when belief seems foolish. To continue when continuing seems pointless. To know with perfect faith that even now, especially now, Hashem is with us.
Yitzchak Harpaz will also be sitting shiva at his home:
Mourning families: Harpenes, Harpaz, Zak, and Goldberger
