18 Lessons from 18 Years as a Rabbi

A Celebration of Life and Learning

18 is a lucky number in Judaism. Why? Because every Hebrew letter also represents a number, and the Hebrew letters spelling the word life equal the number 18!

And the number 18 is on my mind because I just completed my eighteenth year as a rabbi!

Was I called to this way of life? Yes, but not in the way most people think. The idea of being called leads me to picture a heavenly voice saying "I am calling upon you to serve Me."

That's not what happened. I simply felt in my heart that this was my path. It wasn't purely rational, though I thought I had the skills for it.

I loved Judaism and the Jewish people and felt inspired by the rabbis I knew growing up.

I felt called in the same way a person might feel called to propose and marry their spouse. I felt a love and commitment and wanted to make it permanent.

Lessons Learned

So do I still feel that same love? Have I learned anything along the way?

Well, one truth I discovered–and this is true for every single one of us–is that life never turns out the way we expect.

Life would be boring if it was always predictable. Often what happens in our lives surprises us in beautiful ways.

We learn we can do things we never thought we could. We discover beauty and inspiration we did not know existed. We grow through challenges we never expected to face.

Of course, we also face senseless tragedies and loss.

I have been with enough traumatized families to know sometimes reality is much more painful than we expected.

Nevertheless, we cling to life. We keep going. And that's been a theme of Jewish history for thousands of years.

So here are a few lessons I've learned along the way:

1. People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care: In other words, intelligence and knowledge can’t make up for a lack of connection with and care for people. If people know you care about them, they will care about what you say.

2. Less is more: I remember my early days when I would give long sermons with lots of history and scholarly quotations. I think my congregants indulged my eagerness and overpreparation, but over time, I learned the best messages were those with a clear and succinct point. A good quote or references helps immensely. But too many of them detract from the clarity of the message.

3. You can't accomplish anything by yourself: The rabbi is often the public face of a synagogue. So you get credit (and blame) for what happens. But absolutely nothing happens without a team working together.

   Even in a small synagogue with only a rabbi, laypeople work with the rabbi to make events and worship happen. To think you can do everything alone–in work and in life–is pure ignorance.

4. Names matter: I confess I studied the directory at the first synagogue I served. I learned people's names and tried to connect faces with them. It worked. I haven't been a rabbi there for fifteen years, but when I run into former congregants, they often tell me how impressed they were that I remembered their names.

   Of course, I've failed to remember names MANY times, but when you do remember, people notice and feel honored.

5. Learn constantly: Every interaction, every article, every book, every film is an opportunity to learn something and apply it in the rabbinate.

   One might this say this is true in life generally, but as a rabbi, I can see a quote in a fiction book I'm reading and know this hits home for a sermon I'm writing. I can watch a YouTube and notice a good presentation technique for teaching.

   Even people's clothing choices can reveal how they feel about religion and synagogue and can help me tailor my message to reach more people. You can generate ideas from everything.

6. Some people will love you or hate you even before they meet you: People often relate to the position of a rabbi rather than the individual person occupying that role. If someone felt close to their rabbi as a child, they may instantly feel a closeness to you. If someone had a bad experience with a rabbi, they may transfer that aversion to you.

   This process–known as transference in psychology–operates at multiple levels, and a good rabbi is aware of it and does not fall into the trap of responding impulsively to it.

7. People respect your no's: Most rabbis are people pleasers. Why else would we choose a career designed to serve and be around others? But people pleasing can deplete you emotionally, physically and even spiritually. So you have to say no...a lot. No to dinner parties, social events, coffees, conferences...

   I used to hate saying no. Part of me still does. But I have learned people respect a firm no rather than a hesitant maybe. Saying no also helps me focus my yes time and make the most of it.

8. People want to be challenged: It's easy to give a sermon everyone agrees with. But it also limits the way you can transform a person's life. The transformative messages challenge and ennoble people.

9. You need an honest critic: I love to hear that I gave a good sermon, even if I know it was not a great one. I seek approval. That's part of my personality, and I'm not alone, because we all need some people in our corner who will back us up and affirm us no matter what.

   But we also need someone who can give honest and critical feedback. We need someone who knows what we are capable of doing, and who will tell us if we are falling short.

   For me that person is my wife. It could be a colleague, a friend. But do not choose someone who works for you. That creates an unhealthy power dynamic where that person may feel it necessary to tell you you're great. Fjnd someone with no agenda but your giving your best.

10. Tell stories: One rabbi I know has her Facebook bio as "I tell stories." Stories teach and inspire us more than facts A fact without a story is meaningless. A fact with a good story enlightens. It's worth spending hours to find the right story to convey an idea in a sermon or class.

11. Be on time: Human beings are social animals. We are alert to cues of respect and trust. We can intuit if someone is happy to see us or is just tolerating us because they have to. When we are consistently late, we convey disrespect. We may also make someone feel unimportant.

    Often people come to a rabbi because they are strugglign with grief or self-esteem. A late rabbi can exacerbate a person's problem for which they may have come to see you. Now sometimes tardiness is inevitable. No one is perfect. But a reputation for being late makes you less effective and respected. 

12. Keep first things first: Not every part of the rabbinic job is equally important. What is most important for each person depends on their skills, the community they serve, and the needs of the moment. But presiding at a funeral is more important than attending a budget committee meeting. Delivering a meaningful sermon on the holy days is more important than using perfect Hebrew grammar.

13. By contrast, sometimes the little things are the big things: On the other hand, sloppy Hebrew grammar may be a sign of lazy sermon writing. Or ignoring a budget meeting may show a lack of concern for the financial health of the institution. In other words, you have to be constantly adapting.

    A beautiful talmudic teachings says one should "be flexible like a reed and not rigid like a cedar." We need to be flexible on where we put on our attention.

14. Be comfortable with paradoxes: Not everything in life makes sense. People drawn to the rabbinate tend to have very clear guidelines about right and wrong, and this principled view is essential. But it can go too far when trying to understand human behavior.

    People are much more complex than theories and rationality can explain. As Parker Palmer once put it, "A person is only as deep as his or her deepest contradiction."

15. Conflict is inevitable. Broken relationships are not: A rabbi should never be embarrassed to run into someone at a restaurant or movie. Even if you had disagreements with that person...even if they left the synagogue or community out of frustration with you...you should be able to greet them warmly and shake their hand. Our tradition is more important than personal squabbles.

16. Make the call: I've been asked dozens of times what to say to someone who is mourning. How do you comfort them without making them feel uncomfortable?

    The truth is there is no right answer. It's hard to know what to say to someone in pain because we don't know what they are experiencing. We may have an idea, but every tragedy and loss is unique. But uncertainty does not permit inaction.

    Making a short call or even sending a quick text to someone in mourning is always worth it. It can be as simple as "I'm thinking of you." You don't have to have the perfect words of comfort. Perfection can be the enemy of the good.

17. Stay in awe of God and Judaism: When counseling married couples, I often suggest they go back to the time they fell in love and remind themselves of what they truly cherish about one another. A good marriage is constantly renewing itself on solid foundations. So is the life of a rabbi.

    Like any job, the work of a rabbi can start to feel routine.We read the same book (the Torah) every year. We say many of the the same prayers every day. We do hundreds of weddings and funerals. That's why traveling to Israel, reading new books, and simply continuing to learn make such a difference.

    Recall the preflight safety announcements on an airplane. Strap on your own oxygen mask for before helping others. The same is true with Jewish learning and inspiration. We have to keep up our own so we can share with others.

18. You never know the impact you'll have: I think of brief conversations I had with my childhood rabbi in the hallway of the synagogue. He died years ago, but those conversations still lift me up. I think of the way he raised his hands up high when he blessed the students. I try to do the same. We never know what memories and impressions we leave.

    Of course it's not just rabbis whose words and deeds ripple into the distant future. It is true for each of us. A smile you give or a kind word you say truly can change someone's life. That's because God works through each of us, and God's word is everlasting.