The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Thursday the 24
th
of Sivan 5778 and June 7, 2018
Hatless at Agudah Dinner
I
t was that time of the year again: “Dinner Season.”
The period between Memorial Day and the end of June when many mosdos, yeshivas, and communal organizations hold their annual fundraising dinners.
As a rabbi, I am often invited to all types of dinners and parlor meetings, and informal get-togethers. The task of deciding which ones I feel I should attend and which ones I can afford to miss and which ones require only a cameo appearance is a daunting time consuming and often an agonizing decision-making process.
It is painful and downright disconcerting to choose which dinner I can afford to give up three hours (or more) of my precious time to attend and for which event I ask myself, “How can I not give up three hours to help them?”
Ultimately, decisions must be made, and I can only hope and pray that someone’s feelings will not be offended. After procrastinating as much as I can, I make my final cut and plan out where I will pop in and leave; where I will attend until the honoree I came for has been honored; and where I must be there from soup to nuts. And of course, there are also those dinners which I decide to be a total no-show.
This should in no way be interpreted as my lack of support to the particular mosod or organization; however, if there is one lesson I have certainly learned in my rabbinic career, it is that you can never make all of the people happy all of the time.
Unfortunately, that is also a fact of life; you can never satisfy everyone every time. And notwithstanding the worthiness of a cause; the reality of my life is that I cannot be all of the places people would like to be, all of the time. After all, and I often say this to offended dinner-planners, “ A rabbi is also a job with responsibilities and commitments, and sometimes the shul’s needs trump the general communal needs.”
Tis the season to be eating, traveling and wondering how long I have to stay at the dinner without appearing as I can’t wait to leave.
And who am I to complain anyway? My own Shul dinner is always the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend and this year was no different.
And I too, as all those who make dinners do, was hoping and prodding, nudging and badgering many people, from congregants to relatives of the honorees; and from critical public people to other rabbonim, to attend my dinner.
Yet, nevertheless, a Rav should of course never forget, that those who need him the most, are the congregants he davens with daily.
Even missing my daily short shiur between Mincha and Maariv is disconcerting and causes me pangs of guilt. Although attending a dinner, primarily if it’s being held outside of Passaic will preclude me from teaching the class, nevertheless, missing that class is upsetting as often those twenty minutes of learning is the only learning the men who are there will be able to squeeze into their hectic and frenetic day.
One of the most essential dinners on a national and perhaps even international level is the Agudas Yisroel of America annual dinner held in 2018 on Tuesday evening May 29th.
The Agudah is a vital organization which advocates on behalf of Jews in so many areas of Jewish life in America and beyond.
The organization guarantees that Orthodox Jews have the right to special educational services afforded to them by the American government. Unfortunately, many children would not be receiving the educational benefits they are entitled to under law without the intervention of Agudah’s legal advocacy.
There are so many social, political and Chessed aspects to the organization that are indeed worthy of our support and undoubtedly worth a schlep into Manhattan to an otherwise “Passaic-reclused-rabbi.”
The Agudah is a multi-faceted activity hub. And I am connected to it both because of my personal connections with many of the individuals involved in the organization, and because of my sharing of it’s fundamental Torah outlook. Many of the individuals I am connected with are part of its volunteer troop of financial backers, and some of my connections are with actual employees of the Agudah.
For all these reasons and more, I certainly feel respect and camaraderie for both the individuals involved in the Agudah and for the specific organizational entity.
The fact that the lay leadership is subservient to Torah leadership is an integral part of our life-outlook, and such an organization is indeed worthy of our support.
Therefore, on Tuesday, May 29th off I went to Manhattan Island to be part of an “Agudah moment.”
My trips to the Big Apple are as rare as my trips to the fruit market to buy a big apple. In both instances, I never feel the want to schlep.
Yet, even this Passaic based rabbi makes exceptions and off I went on the afternoon of May 29th to the megalopolis of the United States: Midtown Manhattan. As I arrived in Gotham for one of my rare excursions to the City Which Never Sleeps and is also known by many as Fun City, I encountered my first “un-fun” experience.
I made my way to the pre-arranged and pre-paid parking garage. With the help of my astute and prudent partner- namely my wife, I was able to secure parking three short blocks away from the Hilton Hotel, where the dinner was being held.
This incredible feat of frugality meticulously machinated by my marriage mate saved me over thirty dollars.
The Hilton parking garage charged $50 for the evening event, while the lot arranged by my wife cost me a measly $16! That’s $34 more dollars for me to do more Mitzvhos with!
I drove my car into the garage located at 57th Steet- and was getting all geared up for my trek of three short blocks from the underground and dark and stifling parking garage, to the elegant and ornate Hilton Hotel.
I was already smiling at my money saving parking phenomenon when along came a sudden gust of wind, exacerbated by the “whoosh” of a giant double-decker tour bus which shockingly blew my hat right off my head.
I watched in horror and disbelief as my Ferster Quality Brandolino (sorry, I don’t wear a Borsalino. Please don’t think less of me) went flying off my head and into the chaos of cars and the hustle and bustle of buses and trucks on 57th Street. I watched incredulously as my fedora flew from my head and attached itself to the underbelly of a taxi which expeditiously and in high gear sped off towards 5th Avenue with my hat disappearing in a haze of fumes and smog.
As I regained my footing and took stock of the situation, I realized that my hat was gone for good.
Even if I would have made a foolish and inconceivable decision to pursue my swept away chapeau, the chances of retrieval were null at best. Perhaps I would have eventually found the lost headgear; however, undoubtedly it would be already either disfigured beyond recognition or perched atop the head of a homeless man who would probably demur and recoil, to my chagrin, perhaps even violently, to any suggestion of returning the Fedora to it former owner. Therefore, any fleeting thought of retrieval was immediately nixed and rejected as unsafe and unfeasible.
As I digested the gravity of the situation, I was unsure of what my next move should be.
How can I attend an Aguadas Yisroel dinner hatless; yet, frocked? As my long flowing rabbinic garb remained intact and unscathed; my head was now inadequately covered.
Adding additional trauma to my already problematic predicament, I knew I was to be seated on the dais above the ordinary folk.
How can I sit at an elevated dais at an Agudas Yisroel dinner not with my “hat in hand”; but, rather, entirely hatless?
How would the other attendees digest the sight of the rabbi from Passaic who wears a long frock yet is bareheaded beyond his yarmulke?
I decided to be a man and an honest one to boot, and with my yarmulke-only-covered-head-held-high, I marched proudly to the Hilton Hotel.
I arrived at the dinner and quickly looked for someone to spill my story to and to clarify to all that my lack of hat was due to meteorological factors and midtown traffic and not to any philosophical animosity to wearing a hat.
In short, I wanted to make sure no one took my lack of a hat as an attempt at being a jet-setter creating a fashion statement about the rabbinic dress.
I was nervous would I become the JFK of Rabbinic apparel!
Ever since JFK took the oath of office bareheaded, no president since then has worn a hat!
Despite the fact that before JFK all Presidents took the oath with pillbox hats atop their heads for as long as anyone could remember; John Kennedy broke the trend and removed his hat for his inaugural address and for his taking the oath of office.
To this day there are former hat manufacturers who have repressed feelings of hatred and resentment towards President Kennedy as they claim his bareheaded appearance when taking the oath of office caused the market for fedoras to collapse immediately.
Many hat makers are still fuming at the iconic former President.
I would not want it on my conscious that hat-makers started to lose money after I appeared at the Agudas Yisroel annual dinner without a hat!
I indeed wasn’t interested in being a trendsetter; in fact, I would be thrilled to remain as anonymous as the waiter who served the food.
I arrived at the dinner and bashfully explained my lack of complete proper head-attire to Rabbi Chaim Dovid Zweibel Executive Vice-President of Agudath Israel of America who graciously and literally took the hat off his head and placed it on mine.
Of course, his humbled hat was no match for my inflated head, and we both realized that hatless was preferable to an incongruous headpiece.
And so it was that I attended the Aguadas Yisroel dinner of 2018 hatless while self-consciously sitting amongst the true Torah leaders of America on the dais.
Rabbi Labish Becker, the Executive Director of Agudath Israel of America, remarked to me when he saw me at the dais, “Rabbi Eisenman, your missing hat has been making the rounds, everyone is talking about it. Don’t worry, we will still give you a meal- even without your hat. After all, we love all Jews, hatted or hatless.”
We laughed together about the incident as I uncomfortably sat in my seat at the dais.
At this point, there was no escape, I sat down, hatless and sheepishly while sitting amongst a few dozen other rabbonim, each one of them proudly crowned with a hat on their head.
This is the saga of how one Passaic Rabbi ended up sitting hatless at the dais of an Agudas Yisroel Dinner.
As I sat on the dais and peered at the crowd of men, I noticed the following:
Some of the men were wearing hats, and some were not.
Some were wearing black yarmulkes, and some went with suede.
There were even some men with knitted yarmulkes and a few men without any head covering whatsoever.
Suddenly, an epiphany took hold of me as I realized: “Never judge a book by its cover and never judge a man by his hat or lack of. After all, you really never know where he is coming from!”
“If Not Now, Then When?”- Hillel
Ron Yitzchok Eisenman, Rabbi, Congregation Ahavas Israel, Passaic, NJ
