When my parents visited me earlier this semester, they brought with them a copy of Mitch Albom’s new book, Have a Little Faith, and told me that it was about Rabbi Lewis, our synagogue’s Rabbi Emeritus, who passed away a little over a year ago. Once I started reading the book, I was immediately sucked into the narrative: it follows a friendship and mentorship that developed between Albom and Rabbi Lewis, after the latter asked Albom to write his eulogy: a project that Albom assumed would only take a few months, but ended up lasting eight years. That story is paralleled by the growth of a friendship between Albom and a local minister, and also Albom’s overall quest to understand and define his own, personal faith.
There were many things in the book that intrigued me and seemed to echo some of the things that we have been talking about in class. Early on in the book, Albom and Rabbi Lewis have a conversation about the Rabbi’s rituals. The rabbi believed ritual to be vital to his life, because in his opinion faith is “about doing. You are how you act, not just how you believe.” The Rabbi lived through these rituals, and most of his days were filled with acts of praying, studying, doing charity, or visiting the sick. He commented that by repeating “the same old routine” he is able to stay connected to his grandparents and great grandparents.” This idea reminded me of when we talked about memories, and how they are used to create connections between Jews. In this case, those connections exist within one Jewish family: “If I take the pattern and throw it out, what does that say about their lives? Or mine? From generation to generation, these rituals are how we remain.”
The idea of community is touched on again, in the context of the congregation. A congregation, in Rabbi Lewis’ eyes is all about being a part of other people’s lives. “If someone was about to slip, someone else could catch him.” However, the modern world and the suburbs have begun to pull apart that idea of Kehillah Kedoshah, or “sacred community.” In today’s society, everyone has their own busy schedule and so there is less time for them to be there for one another; to conquer this fast-paced world, Rabbi Lewis made sure to keep track of every congregant’s milestones and to listen patiently to anyone who called for his attention. He knew everyone’s name, and even paid extra attention to oldest congregants because “it makes them still feel a part of things.” This was neat to read, because I have seen things in action. I only spoke with Rabbi Lewis a handful of times, but every time we spoke, he knew my name and would have an on-point question to ask. In retrospect, this attention to congregants, which is also exhibited by our synagogues other (still living) rabbi, Rabbi Lindeman, was what made me feel so comforted at services. It felt like a family. When my grandfather died, the cantor and rabbi both made appearances at my grandmother’s house, and did all that was in their power to comfort her.
The novel also brought up some interesting concepts about death, and dealing with loss. The Rabbi lost his daughter to an asthma attack when she was very young, and afterward admitted to using some very strong words in God’s direction, demanding to know why that little girl deserved to die. In the end, he resolved to accept the loss and be satisfied that she was in his life for a brief period of time. He also looked forward to the time when he would be reunited with her after death.
In general, Rabbi Lewis looked at death with a sense of humor. He expressed that in some ways he was excited to die, so he would finally understand whether there is an afterlife. My favorite part of the book is the description of the Rabbi’s funeral. After Albom gave a moving speech, which is transcribed within the book, a tape recording of the Rabbi’s voice was played, and featured responses to two of his most frequently asked questions: whether he believed in God, and whether there is life after death. The answer to the first question was yes, and to the second he said, “My answer here, too, is yes, there is something. But friends, I’m sorry. Now that I know, I can’t even tell you.” I enjoyed the fact that it was because of the Rabbi’s faith that he was able to crack jokes about things as morose as death, and was able to find ways to accept and understand the unfair things that happened to himself and his congregants.
This was an interesting read about a man whose dedication to Judaism allowed him to touch the lives of both Jews and non-Jews. In fact, there has been once or twice throughout my life when I have mentioned something from one of Rabbi Lewis’ sermons in casual conversation, which seems like the mark of an excellent and effective Rabbi.
