Baltimore has a low-key treasure. He is an enthusiastic teacher, a brilliant posek, and a refreshingly comfortable and friendly human being. Rabbi Yosef Rottenberg will be honored on May 20 for 33 years of service as 12th grade rebbe and Rosh Hayeshiva of Talmudical Academy’s high school. Rabbi Rottenberg is a man who loves Torah, loves people, and loves to teach—a combination that led him easily to his chosen profession. He could have done many things in life that would have made him richer, but he chose to use his talents to inspire hundreds of teenage boys, who couldn’t graduate TA without going through his gemara class. “They came out of TA not hating Judaism,” he says in typical self-deprecating understatement.
Rabbi Rottenberg and his wife Maxine still live in the same small row house on Jonquil Avenue where they raised their six children. “If Bill Gates could see me, he would be jealous,” says the upbeat rebbe. “What can you do with money after 120 years? When I look at my children, my grandchildren, I feel extremely rich.” Although the Jewish neighborhood has largely passed his street by for fancier pastures, the world still comes to his door. He does most of Baltimore’s approximately 75 gittin (halachic divorces) per year right in his dining room. Rabbi Rottenberg is a world-renowned posek, especially in shailas of marriage and divorce, which he studied under R’ Moshe Feinstein, zt”l. Balabatim, friends, and colleagues come, too—to ask shailas, get advice, and also to shmooze. And 33 years worth of TA students call and visit regularly. Even after leaving TA and learning in other yeshivas, many of them still consider him their rosh yeshiva.
Family pictures adorn the walls of the Rottenberg home—both ancestors and descendants. A portable aron kodesh, not yet removed since Rabbi Rottenberg sat shiva for his mother after Purim, covers a picture of his grandparents. But Rabbi Rottenberg recreates them with stories. He lives with memories of the past. Born in 1939, three months after the War started, he and his parents stayed alive in Hungary enveloped in nissim (miracles), in what must seem to him like another lifetime.
Rabbi Rottenberg likes to recount those miracles. In one story of hashgacha pratis (divine providence) to rival ArtScroll, he tells how he owes his life to his grandfather’s “failure.” Rabbi Rottenberg’s maternal grandfather, Reb Yosef Nachman, after whom he is named, came to America in the 1880s as a very young man, hoping to make some money to send back to his family. Unfortunately, he had no skills and no education, and he wouldn’t work on Shabbos. Having accomplished nothing in five years, he decided to return to Hungary to find a wife. After all, he couldn’t raise a family in America. As a memento of his time in America, he took back with him only a few pieces of paper that declared him to be a citizen of the United States.
“Skip to 1944,” says Rabbi Rottenberg, who remembers the following incident vividly, although he was just four-and-a-half years old. “It was the height of the War in Hungary. I was living with my mother in a big apartment house in Budapest. My father was living in a cellar in another part of the city. We couldn’t be together because we were hiding out as non-Jews. They knew we were Jews, though, as you will soon see.
“One day, I looked out the window and saw Jews in the courtyard between our building and its neighbor. They were holding up their hands, surrounded by the Nyilash, the Hungarian Nazis, who pointed their guns at them. The Hungarians were going from apartment to apartment banging on the doors and saying, ‘Zsido (Jew), go down.’ They banged on our door, too: ‘Zsido, go down.’
“My mother opened the door. Where she got the presence of mind to do this, I don’t know. But she took her father’s citizenship papers from 60 years before and showed them to this Hungarian gendarme. You have to understand: By that time, the Germans, the Hungarians, and all the Axis powers knew that they were going to lose the War. The Americans were coming from the west. The Russians were coming from the east. It was just a matter of months. Still, they figured they would kill as many Jews as they could up to the last moment. But they were afraid of the Americans. They thought that if the Americans were in charge, they would hang the Nazis—which they eventually did in Germany. This Hungarian at our door couldn’t read any English. But he recognized the American flag on the citizenship papers and the American seal. I don’t know what was in his mind; maybe he thought my mother was an American diplomat, but the result was that he said, ‘You stay; you don’t have to go down.’ So we stayed. But all those people down there in the courtyard, I don’t think they ever came back.”
Ever the rebbe, Rabbi Rottenberg draws out the moral of the story: “Think about this: My grandfather came to America in the 1880s. What did he accomplish here? Nothing. G-d made him come to America for those few pieces of paper, and it was those papers that saved his daughter and his grandson. From that, my mother had, b”H, many great-grandchildren. Anybody who came out of the War had nissim happen to him. Of course, we don’t understand why G-d saved some people and not others. But look, that’s not for us to understand. Just as we didn’t understand at the time why a man was a failure in America. The Ribono Shel Olam runs the world, and we don’t know how! But the pasuk says in Yeshaya that when Mashiach comes, Odecha Hashem ki anafta bi…I will thank you Hashem that You were angry at me”—meaning that all the things we think are bad will turn out to be good. We don’t understand now, but one day we’ll see.”
Rabbi Rottenberg has had some health issues these last few years, and his teaching schedule is lighter. But by simply being himself—with his attitude of bitachon, his sense of humor, and his encouraging stance toward people—Rabbi Rottenberg has a lot more than gemara to teach, and he’s doing it full time.
Where, What, When: I was sorry to hear about your mother.
Rabbi Yosef Rottenberg: Yes, it was a shock. How could it be a shock you ask? She wasn’t sick, but still, she was 93 years old. Did I think she was going to live forever? The answer is yes. So, you wonder why. It’s a long story, but I’ll only tell you part of it. My mother’s father, whom I’m named after, just before he died, gave a bracha to my mother. “Tsheva (Batsheva),” he said, “You should live to see Mashiach.” So that’s what I expected.
The funny thing is, my grandmother on the other side, my father’s mother, before she was taken to Auschwitz, gave my father the same bracha. There’s a long story to that also. See, my parents were in Budapest, and I was with my grandparents for a couple of years in Kosice (formerly Kashau), the second largest city in Slovakia. The Germans turned a small section of the city into a ghetto. All the Jews from Kosice were in that ghetto, and all the Jews from the surrounding towns. It was packed. Of course, there was not enough room in the houses for everybody, so most of the Jews slept in the street for those few weeks before they were taken away.
Meanwhile, my father in Budapest knew what was going on. He knew it would not be long before they started taking Hungarian Jews to Auschwitz. So he came to take me back with him. I don’t know how he managed to sneak through the border. He came one night and he saw everybody sleeping in the street. He was looking for his parents and for me. Finally, after looking at every sleeping face, he found us. He would have loved to have taken his parents back with him to Hungary, but he didn’t travel by limousine, you understand. He was sneaking through forests, hiding in trucks, etc. But somehow, they knew he was coming, and they dressed me up in my Shabbos clothes. My father knew that this was the last time he would see his parents. His mother gave him the above-mentioned bracha, and two weeks later, they were killed in Auschwitz, two days before Shavuos. My mother’s mother was killed a week after that. I’m hoping my grandmother’s bracha will be fulfilled, and my father, zol zein gezunt, will be zoche (merit) to see Mashiach together with all klal Yisrael.
WWW: After the War, you came to New York, and you attended Torah Vodaath in Williamsburg and Beis Medrash Elyon in Monsey, New York. How did you come to learn how to pasken (make a halachic decision) from R’ Moshe Feinstein, zt”l?
YR: I went to study under R’ Moshe in kollel to become proficient in halacha. I was a young man, 25 years old, and R’ Moshe was the gadol hador, 75 years old. Most of the fellows in the yeshiva were happy just learning gemara. But I thought, here is the greatest man in the generation, I want to learn halacha from him. So, I used to go to his house every day for training in halacha. He also used to show me the shailas (halachic inquiries) he received in the mail and ask me to render an opinion, with sources. He would then go over them with me.
WWW: What can you tell us about him?
YR: I could tell you a million things about R’ Moshe. He was an amazing person. His kindness knew no bounds. For instance, every afternoon, while I was studying in his home, he insisted that I sit in his own armchair in his study (because I was going over all his old gittin, which were located there) while he took his gemara and learned at the dining room table. His respect for all people was extraordinary. One extremely hot summer day, the air conditioning was not working in his home, so he removed his shirt and his kapote and put on a bathrobe. Then R’ Moshe, the gadol hador, excused himself to me, a mere youngster, who was a guest in his home, for not wearing his kapote in my presence.
WWW: What did you learn from him that influences the way you pasken?
YR: I learned from him to think for myself. Reb Moshe wasn’t impressed if you showed him a sefer where it said the opposite of what he thought. “This is what I think,” he used to say. So, even though in certain matters I pasken not like R’ Moshe, when friends point out this out to me, I say to them, “I’m doing exactly like R. Moshe. R. Moshe said to think for yourself. I’m thinking for myself!”
I also learned that minhagim (customs) are very chashuv (important). Once we were all standing around, and somebody came over and mentioned to R’ Moshe that a certain rabbi was writing a get (Jewish divorce) on a typewriter. R’ Moshe said, “A get on a typewriter? This rav will never get out of gehinnom.” Now, R’ Moshe, as everybody knows, was the finest, most eidel (gentle), the sweetest person alive. You never heard a bad word about a Jew from his mouth, ever. We all got shook up from hearing this, and went back to our seats.
I don’t know how I had the nerve to do this, but I came there to learn, so I went over to the Rosh Yeshiva, and I said, “Rebbe, what’s takeh wrong with a get on a typewriter?” Do you know what R’ Moshe answered me? In Yiddish, he said, “We have to think about that.” In other words, he had not yet decided definitely that it was against the halacha.
So why did he give such a klala (curse) to the person? It was because he changed a custom that was observed by Yidden for thousands of years. Maybe it’s not assur (forbidden) to write a get with a typewriter, but since the custom is to write it with a quill like a sefer Torah, for not observing the minhag, he will go to gehinnom. The point is that Jewish customs have to be kept. He was very makpid (exacting) on minhagim.
WWW: You do most of the gittin in Baltimore. How did you come to fulfill this role?
YR: I learned gittin under R’ Moshe, and I studied it a lot. After that, I studied under other great people, like Rabbi Nota Greenblatt of Memphis, Tennessee, who, by the way, is one of the greatest halachic authorities of our generation. The whole week he travels. He does gittin; he’s a mohel and a sofer. He checks mikva’os, and he paskens—and not only for the South. He goes all over the country. So I had big people to learn from. Before I did my first get in Baltimore, I asked permission from the rav who was the main mesader gittin in town. That was Rabbi Yosef Feldman, z”l. R’ Moshe, in my semicha, wrote that I could do gittin. But I was in somebody else’s town. I asked Rabbi Feldman, do you mind if I would do a get? He said, “Rabbi Rottenberg, what do you think, I’m the Chief Rabbi of Baltimore? You have to ask me permission? Gezinterheit! Do gittin.” That’s how it started, and eventually I ended up doing most of the gittin in town.
WWW: Do you try to get the couples to reconcile?
YR: It is a halacha that before a rav does a get, he has to ask a couple if they have made an attempt at reconciliation. If they answer no, I tell them that first they have to go to a rav or a counselor. If they have already done so, and it has not helped, then we do the get.
WWW: Is it a very difficult experience for the parties?
YR: People have a lot of misconceptions about a get. Some women think it’s a very degrading ritual. Actually, it’s a very simple and straightforward procedure that is not degrading to anyone. We try to make both husband and wife feel as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. I once received a letter from a man who wrote that he never felt closer to his wife in all the years they were married than while we were doing the get. And the reason was that the atmosphere was pleasant, without any stress at all.
WWW: How did you end up at TA?
YR: I was learning in the kollel under R’ Moshe Feinstein. My wife was pregnant with our first child, and we didn’t have any money at all, so I was looking for a job. It so happened that R’ Nota Greenblatt was in New York and needed a witness for a get. I was studying gittin, so I went along with him. I started speaking to the man. I never met a man like that before. He knew everything! And he was such a mensch, such a wonderful person. He told me there was a teaching job available in Memphis. I immediately said yes—just to be in the same city he was in was enough for me. When I came home, I told my wife, and she was happy, too. Of course, my wife would go anywhere with me, but there was a special reason she was so happy. A few weeks before, we found out that there was a shul in Singapore that was looking for a rabbi, and I mentioned that I was thinking about that. She was terrified. So, she was thrilled we were going to Memphis. I taught there for three years, and then we came to Baltimore.
WWW: Did you like Memphis?
YR: It was a wonderful experience in Memphis. We made many lasting friendships and gained much from our stay there, especially from my training in halacha from R’ Nota Greenblatt. But you’re wondering why I didn’t stay in Memphis. I wanted to live closer to my parents in New York. And my wife is a Baltimorean. There was a 12th grade rebbe in TA then, R’ Pinchas Kahn, who mentioned that he was leaving the job and going to New York. “But I want you to know this is a fantastic job,” he said to me. “I want you to apply for this job.” I applied and I got the job, and I’ve never regretted it. I loved it.
WWW: What do you love about teaching?
YR: In the gemara, R’ Akiva says that he learned a lot from his rebbes, he learned more from his contemporaries, and the most he learned from his students. I’m telling you, it’s 100 percent true—not that R’ Akiva needs my haskama (endorsement). But it is true—and not just because they ask you questions. When you have to explain the gemara to talmidim, things occur to you that never occur to you when you’re learning it by yourself. Teaching is wonderful. I suggest it to every Jewish boy. It’s a fantastic thing. Baruch Hashem, over the years I’ve had lovely talmidim. TA has put out a vast number of terrific students.
WWW: What changes have you seen in TA?
YR: TA today has more students than any time since I’ve been there. It’s an elementary school, a high school. And now they have a kollel. The learning is fantastic. The boys are fantastic. TA is a wonderful yeshiva. You have to understand: When I came, TA was the only school there was. Even Ner Israel had only just started its high school. Now, we have lots of schools in town. With competition from so many different schools, you would think that all the schools would be suffering. It’s just the opposite. Every single school has more students, and they’re all doing wonderfully. It’s an amazing thing.
WWW: How has Baltimore developed since you’ve been here?
YR: I think the city of Baltimore now is much greater than it was when I came, although the great rabbanim from back then are no longer with us. But the point is, the younger rabbanim and roshei yeshivas are wonderful also. Twenty years from now, some of them will be world famous. There are also balabatim in town who are tremendous.
One hundred fifty years ago, they called Baltimore the Yerushalayim of America. It’s the Yerushalayim of America again. Of course, I don’t want to take away from New York, but there are a lot of Yerushalayims. There’s a joke: They say that the Vishnitzer Rebbe, who lives in Bnei Brak, said that Bnei Brak is the Yerushalayim of Eretz Yisrael.
I’m so happy that we moved here. I would like it if every single one of my children moved here. It’s a pleasure to live here, and people move here constantly, because they all want a place with Torah, with mitzvos, with erlichkeit.
Of course, there’s nothing like Yerushalayim. It’s unbelievable—the buildings made of Jerusalem stone, the streets, the people. My wife and I were deeply affected even by the outer walls of the Old City. And we Hungarians are not from the big Zionists. But I just love Eretz Yisrael.
WWW: Do you keep up with your talmidim?
YR: I’m very close with my talmidim. Just as I love my sons, I love my talmidim. I’m in close touch with many of them. They come to my shiur Sunday morning in TA and Tuesday night in my home. They still call me for advice and shailas and also to share with me news about themselves and their families. I have been mesader kedushin at many of their weddings and have, b”H, attended many bar mitzvas, brissim, and other simchas. I consider them a part of my extended family.
Baruch Hashem, I have a lot of talmidim in Eretz Yisrael. Today, it doesn’t make a difference where you live. Every motza’ei Shabbos, I check my email. Right away, I have a list of shailas from my talmidim there, for whom Shabbos was over many hours before. I answer by email, but I tell them, “By email you’re not going to get long answers—just yes, no, or maybe—because I only type with one finger. If you want a longer answer, we’ll talk on the phone.”
WWW: You are known for your sense of humor. As a rebbe, do you use humor to get the message across?
YR: There’s a gemara in Taanis, 22a, which says, a man was walking in the street and met Eliyahu Hanavi. He asked Eliyahu to show him someone who was a ben olam haba. Eliyahu Havavi pointed to two people on the street. The man went over to them and asked, “What do you fellows do?” They said, “We’re clowns. We entertain other Jews and make them happy.” I try to make my students happy and make learning Torah a pleasant and joyous experience. R’ Moshe Feinstein, my rebbe, whenever he heard someone say, “It’s hard to be a Jew,” used to get very upset. What are you teaching a child! It’s hard to be a Jew? It’s wonderful to be a Jew! Ashreinu, ma tov chelkeinu,… how happy are we, how fortunate are we, how sweet is our lot. Rabbi Avigdor Miller, in every one of his tapes, will tell you the same thing. It’s wonderful to be a Jew!
WWW: Some of the students may not be so happy, though, when they get their report cards.
YR: I don’t believe in report cards, but since, officially, we had to give them, I used to give two marks. Actually, I only gave one mark, because it was either pass or fail, and of course everybody got a P. In fact I would tell the secretary, Mrs. Gold, “You know how I grade, just make out the report cards for me.” Nobody ever failed in my class. Ever.
WWW: If you don’t believe in report cards, what about homework?
YR: I don’t believe in assigning homework at all! I never gave homework all the years I was in TA. You want to learn on your own at home? You want to review the gemara? That’s what we would like. But to assign you something? Never. I don’t know how busy you are. I don’t want to make life hard for anybody. Maybe it’s not the greatest pedagogical method, but I find it works for me. I try to make the gemara pleasant. I try to make the teaching pleasant. Torah is supposed to be pleasant. I enjoy it, and they enjoy it.
WWW: We had some controversy in the WWW about homework. Some people wrote letters to the editor after we published an article by Dr. Jacob Mermelstein against homework. I don’t know if you read it.
YR: I did read it; I agree completely. Look, there can be many different views, and I accept other peoples’ views. It could be that homework is good, that children should have some responsibility. But I think we should make life pleasant for children and make Judaism pleasant for children. I’ll tell you one thing: Not every student who studied in my shiur is a talmid chacham or is going to be a talmid chacham. But none of them will ever hate Yiddishkeit.
WWW: So how do you motivate young people?
YR: I’ll tell you: My daughter spent a year in Israel at BJJ. Now, BJJ is a very tough school, and some girls spend all their time working hard. I told my daughter, “Don’t worry about marks, and don’t spend all your time studying. I want you to enjoy this year as much as you can. Enjoy the spirit, the atmosphere of Eretz Yisrael. I’m not interested in how well you do in the school.” Of course she did well anyway, because she’s a good girl. But she came back and told me she was very indebted to me. She never felt any pressure. She had a wonderful year.
I never pressured any of my children, and I never pressured any of my students. I tried to give them a little mussar, in a nice way: “Look, do you want to grow up to be a talmid chacham, or do you want to grow up to sit on a park bench reading the communist Daily Forward? When you’re an old man, you’re not going to have the same desires that you have now. If you have Torah, you have something for the rest of your life. If you don’t have Torah, what enjoyment will you have out of life?”
WWW: It’s easy to make life pleasant for the serious student. What about a boy who is not interested in learning? How do you motivate him?
YR: Sometimes you can do everything under the sun and you just don’t have success with some students. Students like who are not interested in learning need a special closeness. Angry words will not help. Success is only possible by using kindness and compassion. You never know what will influence a child. Some little conversation you had might awaken something in his heart years from now. You just try your best. What else can you do? “For the most part,” R’ Hutner said, tongue in cheek, “G-d runs the world.”
WWW: What do you expect out of your students?
YR: There’s no one answer to that question. You don’t expect the same out of every student. Some boys become roshei yeshivos or rebbeim. And some become lawyers, accountants, doctors, and every kind of professional. I’m happy if they’re frume, ehrliche Yidden, if they have good middos, and know how to treat people.
WWW: Do you think boys benefit from going to an out-of-town yeshiva? Or is the trend toward staying at home?
YR: I kept my own children learning here until they were 19 or 20 years old. I felt, and still feel, that even teenagers require the closeness and beneficial influence of family. I think my children, at any rate, gained by being able to be with us and to share in the warmth and beauty of a heimishe family life.
WWW: When should a boy go to college or prepare for a parnassa?
YR: I think that every single yeshiva boy should spend a year, or maybe two, learning, especially in Israel, where there are small yeshivos and they can get personal attention. Then they should make a decision about college. Some of them might decide to stay in learning for the rest of their lives. Some might go to college. But I think it’s very important after high school to have your mind enveloped by Torah, when you can learn without distractions. It helps you for the rest of your life. I suggest that for every student.
WWW: We often find fault with ourselves and our community, but you have a very positive attitude. Why is that?
YR: There is a vort brought in the sefarim that Hashem gave us two eyes: one eye to look at the good in other people, and one to look at what is lacking in oneself. Jews are moiradik. I am amazed by our generation. I think it’s a wonderful generation.
It’s the 21st century with all of its distractions. And nevertheless, hundreds of thousands of Jews ignore the pleasures of this world to immerse themselves in the study of Torah. R’ Chaim Volozhiner, in 1800, said, “Mashiach will not arrive until Torah comes to America.” That’s an amazing prophecy; there was not even a rav in America at the time. The first rav in America was Rabbi Rice, here in Baltimore, who came years later. And look at America now. It is filled with yeshivos, with kollelim, and with balabatim who study Torah and fulfill mitzvos with great joy.
In our time we suffered the greatest catastrophe in Jewish history, and one would think most Jews would have rejected their heritage. Nevertheless, Torah is flourishing all over the world. This certainly makes our generation worthy to see the geula.
When the previous Satmar Rebbe, zt”l, was in Israel many years ago, and was about to leave to return to America, a great Jerusalem rabbi came to him and said, “Rebbe, what will we do now when we need a bracha—for health, parnassa, children, for anything—now that you will no longer be here to give us your blessing? The Satmar Rebbe replied, “When you go to shul in the morning and you see a Jew roll up his sleeve and put on tefilin, and you notice on his wrist blue tattooed numbers, that’s the Jew to whom you should go for a blessing. And his blessing will be at least as valuable as mine, if not more.”
Isn’t this then the generation that deserves the coming of Mashiach more than any generation since the time of Avraham Avinu?
WWW: Thank you for a fascinating interview.
