By now everyone is aware of the sudden passing of Senator Joseph Lieberman, of
blessed memory. For me, and so many others, it was a shock. He was sharp, fit,
and active until his untimely death. Just two weeks ago, an article he wrote
appeared in the Wall Street Journal chastising
Charles Schumer, saying “He has lost his way.” Joe Lieberman was interviewed by
Fox News a day later. As always, he was clear and concise, while speaking
respectfully about his shock and disappointment in the positions taken by Schumer
and our current administration. It was less than a week later that Fox News
covered his funeral.
Joe Lieberman was a larger-than-life figure, who accomplished
great things, met with presidents and kings yet always remained the humble
Yosef Yisroel ben Hanan. In his own words, “I’m just a simple Jew trying my
best to honor G-d and my parents.” I was privileged to know Joe Lieberman, and
of course, many thousands of people can say the same thing. I would like to
share a few personal recollections which may help those who didn’t know him
understand who he was.
* * *
A number of years ago, we were at a wedding in D.C. where we were
both chosen to be aidim (witnesses)
on the kesuva (marriage contract).
Joe was a long-time friend of the chassan.
I said, “Please sign first.” He replied, “No, you’re the rabbi; it proper for
you to sign first.” As I watched him sign his Hebrew name, below mine, I
thought, how amazing: A distinguished U.S. senator, who was almost the vice-president
of the United States, is an aid at a frum wedding. For me it was awe
inspiring.
In 2007, I was asked to speak for a shul in Denver. I was met at
the airport by a yeshivish-looking bearded young man wearing a black hat and
dark suit. He introduced himself to me as we walked to his car. I learned that
he was a cardiac surgeon at a major hospital. During the 40-minute drive, we
were chatting, and I asked if he came from a frum home. He said no. My next question was “When and how did you
become frum?” He said, “Actually, I
was ‘mekareved’ by Joe Lieberman.” I
said, “Wow, interesting; tell me more.”
He said, “In high school, I had gone to NCSY events and started to
keep Shabbos – but not completely. When I got into my pre-med program, I still
maintained the framework of Shabbos, but when exams came, I would take them on Shabbos.
While I was in med school, I met a lovely young woman who was studying social work.
She had also been in NCSY. Unlike me, she had become fully observant. We liked
each other a lot, but our religious differences seemed to preclude us from
getting married – especially because I was convinced that there was no way I
could complete my internship and residency and be a Shabbos observer. I also
couldn’t fathom how I could balance Shabbos and work in my field.
“In October of 2000, during the height of the presidential
campaign, I was in the hospital break room on Sukkos. The TV was on. As the
election was only a few weeks away, the media were tracking the candidates’
every move. The race was too close to call. After showing the campaign stops
made by George Bush and Dick Cheney, they showed Al Gore campaigning in
Illinois, and then my eyes nearly popped out when they showed Senator Lieberman
walking to shul holding an esrog and lulav. The news anchor proceeded to
explain that the Senator was observing a Jewish holiday and was not on the
campaign trail.
“I vividly remember sitting there in absolute disbelief. Joe
Lieberman, obviously a proud Jew, stopped campaigning because it was Yuntiff. Moreover, the world, along with
millions of Jews, was being reminded that it was Sukkos. I knew then that if a
man running for the second highest office in the U.S. could figure out a way to
keep Shabbos, then it was a message for me. Two weeks later, Rabbi Dr. Abraham
Twerski came to speak here. After his lecture I waited in a long line to speak
to him. When it was my turn, I quickly explained my dilemma and asked how he, a
medical colleague, managed to do what he did. Dr Twerski scrawled a phone
number on a scrap of paper and said, “Call me tonight after 11:30” – which I
did. He took me through the steps, and it was obvious to me that, in the 1950s,
it was no small feat for him to do what he did; nevertheless, he succeeded in
doing it. He also said that I needed to have a study partner, and he had
already lined one up for me through his family connections in Denver. I said, ‘How
can I fit that into my already full schedule?’ I could feel him staring at me
through the phone when he said, ‘You’ll figure it out.’ The rest is history. I
set aside time to learn early in the morning and late at night whenever
possible. The lady I wanted to marry became my wife. We have a frum home, two kids, and one on the way!”
* * *
I shared this story with Joe Lieberman a few weeks later. He was extremely
touched. He asked if I could put him in touch with this young doctor and subsequently
wrote him a beautiful note. That story and others like it caused the Senator to
consider the possibility of writing a book about Shabbos from the perspective
of a U.S. Senator. In 2011, The Gift of
Rest – Rediscovering the Beauty of the Sabbath was published. That book has
had a profound impact on thousands of Jews and non-Jews alike. If you haven’t
read it, read it! In chapter one, he writes:
Whether I’m in Stamford or
Washington, I try to get home earlier on Friday than any other day of the week
so I can participate in preparing for the Sabbath…. I always bring flowers home
for Hadassah and our Shabbat table on Fridays. This is as much a gesture of
respect and love for Shabbat as it is one of respect and love for my wife. The
beauty and smell of the flowers – even the ritual of stopping at the Safeway in
Georgetown or the Stop & Shop in Stamford to pick them up – is part of my
preparation for the Sabbath….
The forbidden labors of the
Sabbath – 39 categories, all detailed by the rabbinical authorities of long ago
– are creative activities that imitate G-d’s creativity in the first six days.
They include lighting a fire and, by extension, lighting an electric light or
using a combustion engine like the one that makes your car move. Handling money
is forbidden on Shabbat, and we don’t go shopping or engage in business.
Cooking is prohibited, so Hadassah prepares the Sabbath meals on Thursday night
and/or Friday.
The Sabbath does not just
happen spontaneously at sundown on Friday. In some important ways, it begins as
darkness falls on the preceding Saturday night and we prepare to return to the
six days of work. We leave Shabbat, knowing it is our responsibility to be as
creative and purposeful for the next six days as G-d was in creating the Heaven
and Earth. But we also yearn to return to Shabbat to enjoy the gift of rest,
just as G-d enjoyed the seventh day as the culmination of His creation.
* * *
Last year I attended a reception where Joe was speaking. He
recalled for the audience how bad he felt when there were times when he had to
walk several miles to or from the Capitol in the rain, because of a critical
vote or debate (he served as a ranking member on various committees including
Armed Services). But his concern wasn’t for himself. He felt bad for his police
escorts, who were getting soaked too. There was always a police car following
along at a snail’s pace. He would encourage the police to get into the car to
follow him rather than walking with him. One police sergeant said, “Senator I
can’t let anything happen to you – it’s my honor to walk with you!”
The following is an extract from The Gift of Rest, chapter seven, “A Most Unusual Sabbath”:
Occasionally on Shabbat, I have
little choice but to be somewhere other than at a Sabbath table. This isn’t my
preference, of course, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. One such occasion
occurred at the first inauguration of President George W. Bush, which took
place according to the requirements of the Twentieth Amendment to the
Constitution, on January 20, 2001, at noon. For the first time in my memory,
Inauguration Day fell on a Saturday. Chief Justice Rehnquist administered the
Oath of Office at exactly 12:01. Could I miss this event?
No, I couldn’t. I had run for vice-president
on the ticket that George Bush and Dick Cheney defeated in a bitterly contested
election. I knew it was time to come together for the good of the country. Our
absence from President Bush’s inauguration would be noticed and, not
withstanding Shabbat, would be seen by many as divisive and “unsportsmanlike
conduct.”
“We gotta go,” I told Hadassah.
Vice-President Al Gore was going. We all knew it would have looked like we were
ungracious if we did not attend. To make it easier to go to the Capitol for the
inauguration, on Friday afternoon, we checked into a Capitol Hill hotel, the
Phoenix Park. When we got there and saw the Mardi Gras atmosphere among the new
president’s supporters, we felt very out of place indeed. It was an absolute
madhouse. We changed our minds about the hotel. It was not yet sunset, so we
hustled home and called our neighbors, Shelly and Mindy Weisel, who welcomed us
for Shabbat dinner. We really enjoyed sleeping in the quiet privacy of our own
home that night.
The next morning was cold, but we bundled up
and made the long journey on foot to the inauguration on Capitol Hill.
As we got close to the Capitol,
I heard the roar of thousands of anti-Bush protestors. Were it not for the
Sabbath, we would never have found ourselves wading on foot through that crowd.
The protesters seemed shocked and thrilled to see us. “Hey, it’s Joe Lieberman!
Don’t give up, Joe,” they shouted. There was also, of course, a larger but
quieter contingent celebrating the new president’s inauguration, who greeted us
with respect and good cheer.
Because we had walked and had
to wind our way through the crowds, Hadassah and I arrived on the platform
after the other senators. One of the first people I saw was Secretary of State designate
Colin Powell, whom I had come to know, like, and respect through my work on the
Senate Armed Services Committee.
“So you couldn’t get here on
time today, Lieberman,” Colin said with a big smile.
I knew that Colin Powell had grown up in a
Jewish neighborhood in the Bronx and as a result understood and spoke some
Yiddish. He and I had previously joked about this little-known biographical
fact and particularly about his service as a “Shabbos-goy,” a non-Jew who would
help his Jewish neighbors by doing something the neighbors were prohibited from
doing on the Sabbath, such as turning on a light that had not been turned on
before Sabbath or turning up the heat on a colder-than-expected winter day.
So when Colin Powell teased me about being
late to the Bush inaugural, I said, “Hey Colin, I thought in your youth you
were the best Shabbos goy in the Bronx.”
A big smile came across his
face. “Oh, now I understand your tardiness. Good Shabbos, Senator and Mrs.
Lieberman, and thank you for being here on your special day.”
After the ceremony was over,
Hadassah and I went into the Capitol building and joined some of our Senate
colleagues at a reception in the office of the Senate majority leader, Tom
Daschle. As we left the reception about 15 minutes later, we saw Secret Service
agents in the hallways, and then the new president of the United States, George
W. Bush, who was coming from signing the official document accepting the
presidency in the President’s Room of the Senate Chamber, a custom that
President Reagan began in 1981. President Bush quickly extended a friendly hand
to me. It was the first time I had met him in person.
“Congratulations, Mr. President,” I said,
shaking his hand.
“Thanks, Senator. And let me
congratulate you on the great campaign you ran. I don’t think it would have
been as close as it was if you had not been on the ticket.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” I
responded. “Now I look forward to working with you for the good of our country.”
“Good,” he said, flashing a
smile. “I bet we can find some ways.”
At that moment, needless to
say, I had no idea how many ways we would find to work together, particularly
on the Iraq war, and how much that work would alter the course of my political
career. But that is a longer story for another time.
That was, of course, a most unusual Sabbath.
Later Hadassah and I had Shabbat lunch in my Senate office, and since it was
winter when the sun sets early, we spent the rest of Shabbat on Capitol Hill
before getting a ride home when the Sabbath concluded.
* * *
When I reread these words that Joe Lieberman wrote not so long ago,
tears came to my eyes. His care and concern for the best interests of the
country, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable for him personally, indicated
his desire to always be a kiddush Hashem. His reference to altering his
political career by working with his former opponent, President Bush, also
speaks profoundly to who he was. Because Joe always put principle and country
before party, many Democrats were enraged when he worked with and supported
some of George Bush’s initiatives following the attacks on the World Trade
Center on September 11, 2001.
In 2006, Joe was running for reelection in Connecticut. The
Democratic Party wanted to defeat him. They succeeded in doing so in the
Democratic primary by running an uber-liberal named Ned Lamont, who is now the
Governor of Connecticut. So Joe ran as an independent in the general election,
and, much to the chagrin of the Democratic Party, he easily won reelection. By
the way, it is a tribute to Lamont, the man Lieberman defeated, that he came to
eulogize Joe at the funeral on March 29th. Lamont said, “Joe was
always gracious and respectful. In the years following my loss to him, he was
always available to help and assist me in any way possible. Simply put, Joe is
a mensch.” Similar words were echoed
by other former Democrat colleagues, with whom he sometimes strongly disagreed,
including former Vice-President Al Gore. Gore remembered Joe with love and
respect notwithstanding the very real political differences they had over the
years after the election of 2000.
Joe broke with his party and supported Republican John McCain for
president in 2008. In fact, he placed McCain’s name in nomination and spoke at
the Republican convention that year. The Democrats were furious. What was so
unique about Joe Lieberman was that party affiliation for him did not take
precedence over what he felt was best for America. It’s a stance almost
impossible to fathom these days.
Lieberman felt that John McCain was an extremely experienced senator,
a genuinely honest man, a centrist on many issues but a hawk when it came to
support of the military, and a strong supporter of Israel. He saw Obama as
inexperienced. He had been in the Senate for less than one term, and Joe was
also troubled by the fact that Obama’s mentors included some serious America
haters, including Jeremiah Wright and other radicals. At the time, there were
those who claimed that Joe was a racist. Unfortunately, they couldn’t make
their case because he had been a civil rights warrior from his teens. He had,
at great personal risk, traveled to Mississippi in the early 60s to assist
Blacks with voter registration, and had participated in various “Black Freedom”
marches.
For the record, in those days, it was very dangerous for “Northern
Liberal Whites,” especially Jews, to travel to the Klan-infested Deep South to
support rights for Blacks. The 1988 film, Mississippi
Burning, deals with the Klan murder of three young men, two of whom were
Jews, who came to Mississippi to assist registering Black voters in 1964.
On September 4, 1998, from the floor of the Senate, Lieberman
delivered a scathing public condemnation of Bill Clinton’s behavior, which,
among other things, he called “disgraceful.” At the conclusion of Lieberman’s
impassioned speech, Senators Daniel Moynihan, and Bob Kerry rose to their feet
and applauded. Although other Democrats were afraid to take a stand, Lieberman
was not. What was amazing was that the White House press secretary was forced
to respond, “It’s always hardest to hear criticism from a friend, but I am sure
the President will consider Senator Lieberman’s words with the same care with
which they were delivered.” In fact, the Senators words were heard. Joe
Lieberman was always careful and deliberate with his words. Even his harshest
critics came to appreciate a man of such character and principle. That’s why
John McCain called Joe Lieberman the conscience of the Senate.
* * *
Last year, a very worthy Jewish outreach organization in London
wanted Joe to speak for their annual dinner. The director of that organization
was trying to get to the Senator but kept getting various “gatekeepers,” who
insisted that they spoke for him. The lead gatekeeper (doing her job) spelled
out a long list of requirements, which included a posh hotel, a limousine, first
class air travel, and a “fixed fee” for “the Senator’s precious time.”
The London director reached out to me for assistance. I called the
Senator’s cell phone, and he picked up on the third ring. He greeted me warmly
and we reminisced about his friendship and love for my late machatonim, our grandchildren (mine and
his), and a Pesach program which we both attended. I then explained the issue
at hand. His response was “Let me check my calendar and Hadassah’s; I’ll get
back to you tomorrow.” Which he did! The next day he said, “I cleared it with
my wife and my staff. I do have something on that date, but I asked my staff to
try to reschedule it, which they did. Please tell me what they want me to speak
about?”
I explained, and he immediately understood. He said, “Okay, got
it, an inspirational kiruv speech
which will hopefully help raise some funds.” I said, “Precisely.” He then said,
“I’ll make sure that my staff adjust the fee, and I trust you to find
convenient accommodations that are clean and comfortable – it’s only two
nights. It’s a long flight and a quick turn around, so let’s do business class;
I can forgo first.”
I chose a pleasant kosher boutique hotel in Hendon (a very Jewish
London suburb). It wasn’t posh; it wasn’t pretentious or fancy – but it was
pleasant. He loved it! That was Joe Lieberman – not pretentious, not fancy –
just down to earth and real. So real that when he arrived at the dinner that
night in his grey business suit and realized that it was a black-tie formal
event, he smiled and said, “Gosh, I should have read the small print at the
bottom of the invitation.” Everyone, including Joe, laughed. Then in his
casually humorous way, he said, “Well, since I’m the only guy here not wearing
a tux, at least people will be able to recognize me.” The following day the
Senator generously donated his time to do a follow up luncheon for top donors.
* * *
Joe Lieberman was charming and charismatic. He loved G-d and Torah. He was a
role model for Jews and non-Jews. He engaged chamber maids with the same
respect as tycoons. He never held grudges. Most of all, he understood that all
of his actions needed to be in keeping with Torah principles. He was a walking kiddush Hashem. The words of Yirmiyahu 9:23/24 come to mind: “Let not the
wise boast of their wisdom, or the strong boast of their strength, or the rich
boast of their riches. Let the one who boasts boast about this: that they
understand and know Me, that I am the
L-rd who exercises kindness, justice, and righteousness – in these I delight.” Joe
Lieberman delighted in being an eved Hashem (G-d’s messenger).
We will miss Yosef Yisroel Ben Hanon tremendously. May Hadassah
and his children and grandchildren be comforted among the mourners for Zion and
Jerusalem.
