Rav Chayim Dov Keller and his brother-in-law, Rav Avraham Chayim Levin, zt”l, together started the yeshiva gedola of Telz, Chicago branch, which now is responsible for the education of a grandson of mine and also sports my nephew in its kollel, both of whom are named Nachi Kaganoff, after my father. Rav Keller’s wife was one of the three daughters (and one son, Rav Avraham Chayim) of Rav Eliezer Levin, who had left Lithuania in 1939 to become a rav in Erie, Pennsylvania (very briefly) and then in Detroit for over 50 years, until his passing. The other two daughters were married to Rabbi Yaakov Lipschutz, zt”l, who, in his day, was one of the greatest experts in kashrus, and ybl”c, Rabbi Berel Wein. Rav Levin was probably the last surviving talmid of the Kelm yeshiva. We can hardly even imagine what it was like to have been a true product of what was called the Kelm Talmud Torah.
Rav Chayim Dov Keller was an exceptional speaker. I once heard him
discuss the topic of interacting with non-observant Jews in today’s world. He considered
all of them to be tinokos shenishbe’u, which, literally, refers to a
Jewish child captured by non-Jews and brought up without any knowledge of what
it means to be Jewish. When someone asked him, “But what about a Reform rabbi?”
he responded, “Every Reform rabbi I ever met was a potential ba’al teshuvah
who got off the train at the wrong stop.”
This mashal has remained with me for decades, and I have numerous
stories to back it up. Here is one:
At one point in my rabbinic career, I was the only full-time
congregational rabbi of a truly Orthodox shul in the city. The town had
a variety of Jewish “places of worship” – two or three large Reform temples, a
large Reconstructionist temple, several Conservative temples, a mechitza-less
traditional congregation with two branches, and a smattering of shuls in older neighborhoods whose
only “service” was a Shabbos morning
minyan dependent on people driving in.
The Jewish education in the city was a community day school that had been
built by a Conservative rabbi. Community Jewish day schools, by their nature,
try to accommodate everyone and therefore please no one. The families sending
their children to this Jewish day school included secular Israelis who wanted
their kids to know Hebrew and some Israeli culture; Conservative Jews who
wanted whatever they considered Judaism to be, I guess; and a sprinkling of modern
Orthodox Jews who were somewhat satisfied with whatever Judaism the school was imparting
to their kids. At the time, the principal was Orthodox, and his wife and mine
were the only frum teachers in the school. Because of my position as the
only full-time Orthodox rabbi in town, I managed to get myself onto the
school’s education committee. To balance the ticket, the rabbi of Reform Temple
Beth Israel, Rabbi Robert Rosen, was also on the education committee.
The principal gave notice that he had accepted a position in a different
community, one where he would have proper chinuch for his own children.
A search committee for a new principal was created. By dint of our being on the
education committee, the Reform rabbi and I were placed on the search committee.
The other members of the committee comprised a rather motley group of involved
parents; interested, but not particularly observant, community members (mostly Conservative
in their Judaic affiliation); and some local professional educators who were
Jewish by birth but otherwise not identifiable as such. Although I was
unfamiliar with her, one of them, Dr. Meghan Mayer, was apparently a nationally
respected school administrator.
Although all agreed that our mission was highly important, the committee
met irregularly for a simple reason: There were virtually no candidates for the
position. Occasionally, we met to discuss the lack of choices we faced or to
meet another highly lackluster Jewish professional desperately looking for a
job – any job.
Since the principal’s wife had been the only full-time Orthodox teacher
in the school, a separate committee was busy interviewing candidates for a
full-time teacher. They were having a bit more success – they had qualified
candidates for the position. Because of his charismatic personality, the
decision was made to consider one of the candidates for the position of
principal. Although he had no credentials, degrees, or experience appropriate
to the post, he did have the enthusiasm that one hopes to find in a top
educator. He was therefore interviewed by our committee, the Principal’s Search
Committee. He made a very nice impression, although the committee was unwilling
to recommend someone so young and inexperienced as principal.
Time went on. The school year had ended. We were still without a
principal, and we were beginning to get desperate. Were there any other
options? Unusual options were being suggested. Maybe we should hire a retired
local educator as interim principal, perhaps on a part-time basis, just so that
we can open next year.
One day, an email arrived from the chairperson of the search committee;
it included an attachment of the CV of a candidate we would be interviewing. I
looked at the resume and blanched. Rabbi Dr. Shapiro was a professional
educator with several degrees, much experience, and rabbinic ordination – all Conservative.
If he were hired, our day school would likely become a typical Conservative day
school – like a Solomon Schechter or Ramah school!
With my heart in my mouth, I attended the meeting. Actually, Shapiro may have
known a lot about education, but he was rather boring as an individual.
The interview ended, and the candidate was excused. The chairperson asked
the committee members for their reaction, and Rabbi Rosen was recognized first.
“I arrived at this meeting late, for which I apologize. I expected a lively
place interviewing someone who will excite Jewish youth. Instead, it was so
quiet here I thought I had entered a shiva house. That is not the person
we want to educate our youth!”
That was all it took to bury Shapiro’s chances in our town. The Conservative
candidacy was placed to permanent rest by the Reform rabbi on the search
committee.
“But what are we going to do?” asked one of the other members of the
committee. “We cannot start the school year without a principal!”
Dr. Mayer asked for the floor. “I like that young fellow that you brought
in to be a teacher. He needs to learn a lot, but he has the raw material.”
Our community hired him to be the school’s principal. His primary goal was
to motivate the eighth graders to go to frum (out-of-town) high schools
appropriate for their backgrounds – and he was successful. There are now
generations of frum kids because of his efforts. And G-d’s hidden
oversight was for it to be as a result of a rabbi who got off the train at the
wrong stop!
