On behalf of the family, I would like to thank all the doctors, nurses and various teams who took care of my father with dedication. This includes Nissim and Yechezkel who would come to our house to help him. We especially want to thank Bassi for everything she did for my father in the past week.
“God looked in the Torah and created the world”
It is much easier for me to speak in English. It is much harder for me to speak Yiddish. But neither of them are the Holy Language. My father said several times that when the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world, He looked at the Torah, used the Holy Language – Hebrew – and thus the world was created. Therefore, as he would have done, so will I.
I know that I do not look like those who eulogized before me. I know that there are many people here who saw my father with a black hat, suit and tie at every prayer – weekday or Shabbat – and want to know what happened to his eldest son. Why is he not like his father.
You will understand soon.
My Bar Mitzva portion was Matot-Maasei. In the parsha of Maasei, all the journeys of the Israelites in the desert are recorded, from place to place and place to place. I think to myself now about my father’s journeys in his life – from Boston to New York, back to Boston, to Florida, to Connecticut, Toronto and then to our Holy Land.
You have already heard a little of the influence that my father had on communities everywhere. Thousands – literally thousands – learned from him how to be a Jew, to keep Shabbat, kosher and more.
My father was appointed rabbi of the Ahavat Chesed synagogue in a small town called New London (Connecticut) in the summer of 1977. A town with ten religious Jews and a few hundred traditional Jews. A synagogue with a halachic mechitza (partition) but not the highest. A synagogue where most of the congregation were elderly and could not walk on Shabbat. Most of them arrived by car.
I have heard my father speak hundreds of times on Shabbat and holidays. Not once did he accuse the audience of being secular and having no Torah. He never once called them fools or wicked or said that if they did not repent, they would be punished with severe and strange punishments.
Quite the opposite. The words of our sages should be said nicely and calmy. He did not tell them not to drive on Shabbat. Instead, he taught them the laws, showed them what it means to observe Shabbat properly and how to behave as a Jew. And if you thought it was forbidden to pray in such a synagogue, don’t worry. My father knew the laws and decided that where there was no one, he had to be the person to make a change.
How many people today – they and their children and grandchildren – are observant of Shabbat and mitzvot because of him?
My children will start laughing because I will tell a story they have heard a thousand times. In January 1978 there was the great blizzard. A snowstorm like no other in the New England states. I remember the amounts of snow piling up on the streets. Of course, all the schools in the area were closed for a whole week. On Shabbat morning, my father wanted to go to synagogue. How many people would come? Two? Three? It was impossible to walk and of course by car one couldn’t drive. And yet my father set off with his eldest son. I was five and a half years old at the time and I was very, very small. My mom put on me maybe 20 sweaters, gloves, hats, jackets etc.
On the way to the synagogue, my father could barely take a step and almost fell into the piles of snow. And me? I disappeared completely under the snow. My father had to lift me out of the snow drifts and pick me up again every step. And when we got to the synagogue, the steps were covered in snow and ice. We both literally crawled on all fours to get to the door.
But we arrived. Because it was important to My fatherd to show that he came to the synagogue every single day, no matter the weather. And yes, there was no minyan that Shabbat, but there were a few other people who saw the synagogue rabbi arrive and it affected them. Of course I was glad that not many people came. All the Stella D’Oro cookies they served at the kiddush were mine and mine alone.
But my fatherd didn’t just influence the adults. Even high school students who might have drifted away from Judaism a bit, he helped them – I emphasize both men and women – to get back and start, step by step, to keep the commandments. He did it with a smile, jokes and various activities that combined fun but also learning.
It’s important for you to know: Everything my father did was within the boundaries of Halacha and only within these boundaries. And so there were times when he had to be the “bad guy” but do what Halacha says. I remember one day a woman from the community came in crying and screaming. Her daughter was dating a non-Jew and they were about to get engaged and get married. The mother didn’t want them to get engaged. The daughter was sitting on the ocean beach near our house and she had to make a decision. Without thinking twice, my father took a blanket, ran to the car to talk to her and try to convince her not to marry a non-Jew.
I remember this story because my father was a person who took the dictum of “one who saves one Jewish life it is as if he has saved the entire world” and fulfilled it in the spiritual sense. He wouldn’t look at anyone’s tzitzit. He didn’t care if you studied in a yeshiva or not, what kind of kippa you wore, what your background was. What my father cared about was whether you were Jewish or not.
You remember my father with a black hat on his head. I remember as a child that from the end of May- Memorial Day- until the end of summer- Labor Day- he would wear a white straw hat. In the winter he sometimes went with a blue hat and in the seventies a brown hat. And it doesn’t matter because he observed the halacha as his teacher and rabbi, Rabbi Yosef Dov Halevi Soloveitchik zt”l, requested: Anything that requires a minyan requires a hat. Period. The color doesn’t matter. What matters is that you cover your head with a hat.
But not only that. His version of prayer, all his practices were according to his rabbi’s words. And when he didn’t know the halacha, he picked up the phone to his rabbi and asked what to do. The first night of Passover arrived and a man named Ben Koss lost both his wife and his mother that night. Immediately after the holiday, he turned to my father to conduct the funerals. And here my father had a doubt: who do you bury first – the wife or the mother? My father told me that he picked up the phone to Rabbi Soloveitchik and after discussing the laws, he told my dad what to do. After half an hour, Rabbi Soloveitchik called back and said to him, tear up what you already wrote. I looked into it some more and I’m changing my mind.
Everything within the framework of halacha. But everything for the sake of every Jew, wherever he is or wherever she is.
In Toronto, I arrived at the age of bar mitzva. What was most important to him? That morning I still remember what he said to me word for word: From today until one hundred and twenty, promise me that you will put on tefillin every day that you have to. I promised and kept my promise. Almost 41 years since that morning and yes dad, I put on tefillin every morning. Today was very strange because it was not Chol HaMoed or Shabbat. Just a regular weekday and yet I was not allowed to put on tefillin.
When we moved to Toronto, my father was appointed CEO of Mizrahi Canada. What does that mean? He raised millions for Bnei Akiva yeshivot and hesder yeshivot in Israel. You might be surprised that a man who wore a black hat helped thousands of young men to sit and study in a yeshiva and also to enlist in the army. But raising money for institutions in the Holy Land was important to him.
And here I must mention something that I don’t know if he told anyone: I once asked him why he immigrated to Israel. He told me that there is a mitzva to live in the Land of Israel and he didn’t want to come to the heavenly court after a hundred and twenty years and if they asked him about the mitzva of living in the Land of Israel, he wouldn’t pass the judgment because he didn’t move to Israel. That’s why he immigrated to Israel, to fulfill another mitzva properly.
In Toronto, I studied at a Bnei Akiva high school yeshiva. In Israel, I studied for a few years in a hesder yeshiva. I was privileged to study for a few years in New York in Yeshiva University. And everywhere, even though today there are those who look at those types of places with disdain, my father was happy that I studied in these institutions. He didn’t think they were less religious or less serious than any other yeshiva. In his opinion, his son sat and learned Torah and he’s happy about that.
Some people didn’t receive him well. They heard who his Rabbi was and people would say to him, “How is JB?” That was their way of being derisive to Rabbi Soloveitchik- they didn’t call him rabbi but just JB, his name initials. And I in my chutzpa would turn to him and say: Ask them how MM is doing? (Those are the initials of a very well known ultra Orthodox rabbi) My father immediately told me: No! They’ll have to answer for it in front of the heavenly court at the end of a hundred and twenty years for belittling one of the greatest rabbis of our generation. I’m not going to play that game.
So yes, I didn’t follow a classic ultra-Orthodox path. And yes, I look a little different from him. And yes, my views weren’t always his views, to put it mildly and of course there were disagreements about what’s happening in Israel today. But one thing I know for sure: My father was proud of the fact that he had six children who were different from each other but also similar to each other, if not on the outside then on the inside.
And one more thing I know: Ever since I was a child, as his eldest, he gave me a lot of responsibility because he believed that I would do exactly what he wanted. I know that now that he has passed away, there are still many, many things I need to do for him and for my mother who should live and be well. As I told you daddy: I promise to do the maximum I can for your honor and according to your precise instructions.
And yes, that includes what you asked me to do on Sunday when I last saw you. And I include in that what you ordered me to do regarding the wedding that is coming up for us in 48 days. It hurts me so much because I know how much you wanted to dance at the wedding of my son Aryeh Leib and his fiancée Michal. How do I know? On Sunday when I visited you, you were lying in your bed. Next to you on the wall was a board with pictures of your grandchildren and also a printout of the invitation to Michal and Aryeh’s wedding. You raised your right hand, took a finger and pointed to the invitation to tell me that you hoped to attend.
Ask hundreds of couples and they will tell you how my father used to dance at their weddings, how throughout his life he made the bride and groom happy with a wide smile and special shtick.
Unfortunately, seven weeks before the wedding, he passed away. But daddy don’t worry, I will do exactly what you told me to do and I will do everything in my power so that forty-eight days from right now, we will all make Michal and Aryeh happy just like you used to do.
Daddy, I must ask you for forgiveness for many, many things. I must thank you for everything you gave me. But one thing I must confess publicly: You never gave up on me. With everything that happened between us, you continued to trust me and knew that one day would come – and here it is today – that I would do what you wanted.
When you get up to heaven, I ask that you pray for my three- soon to be four- children. For Rivka Orah, for Aryeh Leib and Michal and of course for Shlomo David.
And with that I want to end:
On Sunday, Shlomo David came from the far north to visit you. Shlomo David was named after your late father. It was only a few minutes, but just like you did with Rivka and Aryeh, I saw your love for your grandchildren, especially for the boy who came in uniform. My father was so proud that he was blessed to live in the Land of Israel and that his grandchildren were protecting him and us from any trouble.
How do you define a person who looks like an ultra-Orthodox Jew, accepts every Jew whoever they are, brings hundreds and thousands together to observe Torah and mitzvot, is loved by people and when he needs it, takes his firstborn’s hand and lifts him up at every step? My father.