The Hidden Taz of Lvov

It is told that the Taz, who had been Rav and Rosh Yeshiva in the large city of Posen, decided after a few years that he was not suited for the rabbinate. He went to Lvov, in the east of Poland, where no one would know him, so that he could learn in peace. After a few weeks one of his former talmidim, who happened to live there, recognized him in shul and called him Rabbeinu. The Taz made him swear to keep his identity secret.

After a few months the Taz needed work to support his family and took a job at a slaughterhouse, skinning and cutting meat. When shailos came up there he was asked whether he knew the din, and he ruled on a few questions. News of this reached the Rav of the town, who was very upset. He called the Taz in and put him in cherem for ruling on shailos instead of sending them to the Rav of Lvov. After that the Taz could no longer learn in the shul but had to stay in the booth where the guard sat.

One day a young girl brought a question about a chicken to the Rav, and he ruled that it was not kosher. She ran out crying. The Taz saw her from his booth and asked why she was crying. “My mother is a widow,” she said, “and this means we will have no chicken for Shabbos.” The Taz looked at the chicken and said it was kosher. “Go and tell the Rav to look in Yoreh Deah, siman 18, in the Taz, in footnote 8, and he will see that the chicken is kosher.”

The girl went back in and told the Rav. He looked up the halacha, realized that he had erred and asked who had told her. “The man sitting in the booth outside,” she said. The Rav went outside and asked him how he knew this Taz. “Because I am the Taz,” came the answer.

The Rav at once gathered the whole town in the shul, announced that he was stepping down and handed the leadership to the Taz, who accepted. The talmid, who had known the secret all along, asked his Rebbe why he had revealed himself and why he accepted the position. The Taz answered that he had truly wanted to stay hidden, but when he saw the tears and felt the pain of the orphan, all his personal plans no longer mattered. He had to prevent such anguish for that family and for any poor family in the future.