We pass our community shuls all the time—but how much do we know about what or who is inside them?
Rabbi Moshe Rosenberg was born and raised on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He attended Ramaz Elementary School, Yeshiva University High School and College, and received semicha from the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) of YU. He has served the kehillah of Congregation Etz Chaim for 30 years.
Tell us a bit about yourself. When did you realize you wanted to go into rabbanus?
I cannot remember a time that I did not intend to become a rav. I literally imbibed the idea at my mother’s knee. I remember standing at my mother’s feet as a child and being told, “Moishaleh is going to be a big rav and talmid chacham. All the rabbanim will bring their hardest questions to him, asking him to rule on them.” I’m told that my response was, “More, more!” Well, I am not exactly the world’s greatest posek, and there are many, many greater talmidei chachamim than I, but I suspect that those conversations planted the seed for my rabbinic career. I always wanted to be a rabbi plus: a rabbi plus a baseball player, a rabbi plus a lawyer, and, finally, a rabbi plus a teacher.
In rabbanus, I was first Assistant, then Associate Rabbi at the Riverdale Jewish Center, before moving to Kew Gardens Hills to be the rav of Congregation Etz Chaim of Kew Gardens Hills. I’ve been blessed to be here and serve a wonderful kehillah for 30 years. As far as my educational credentials go, I taught high school English and delivered a shiur for 12 years at my alma mater, YUHS. Then I taught for 26 years at the incredible SAR Academy in Riverdale. Although my rabbanus was supposed to be part time, I don’t believe that you can succeed if you regard your rabbinic role as part time. So, in fact, I was juggling two full-time jobs, which is tough to do without dropping a single ball.
What makes Etz Chaim unique? Was it founded for any particular reason?
From its inception 40 years ago, Etz Chaim has had a set of goals that it continually maintains and builds on. When I was first being interviewed, I did my share of interviewing too: I wanted to be sure that the group I was joining had not been a breakaway of people who just wanted to be big shots in their own place, but rather people who were devoted to ideals that were worthy of being supported. I discovered that a group of people had been frustrated by the constant talking in the shul in which they davened and wanted to find—or found—a shul where proper decorum was observed, thereby making it easier to daven with kavanah. They wanted women to be able to participate as much as possible within the bounds of halacha. They wanted children to be raised in a setting where shul was an educational experience, led by master educators. And they wanted the orientation of the shul to be Zionist. When I came aboard, I found these ideals not only enshrined in the shul’s constitution, but actively in play, presided over by my predecessor, Rabbi Steven Pruzansky. I saw it as my charge to maintain what he established, and, where possible, to build on it.
What are some initiatives or groups that go on at Etz Chaim? Any special shul practices or minhagim?
We just completed 20 years of the monthly Shiur HaChodesh for Women by Women, which, through the trailblazing work of Hadassah Waxman, drew a hundred people from disparate communities to Etz Chaim to hear the most talented maggidot shiur in the world. Because of its success, that program has been emulated by many other institutions. We are also completing 13 years of Navigating the Medical System, a monthly medical program made possible by the hard work of Dr. Mel Breite and his decades of experience. Through a partnership with NYP/Q, Dr. Mel has brought in experts each month to explore important medical topics, from vaccinations to vision, obesity to osteoporosis.
One minhag which I find especially sweet, which I associate with Bernie Schendler of blessed memory, is that at Neilah, after the Aron Kodesh is opened by an adult, the children of the congregation take turns standing near the open Ark. This sends a message that at the crucial time when the gates of heaven are closing, and we marshal and present all our merits before the Master of the Universe, we say: “Please forgive us for the sake of our precious children, who will grow up to serve You.”
What are some things you have learned from being a shul rav?
Here are a few:
Programming is great and classes are wonderful, but being there for your baalebatim is the most important.
People just want to be seen and taken seriously.
A rav learns from the examples of his congregants at least as much as they learn from him.
A shul should be an oasis of peace. If you speak politics, you convince no one and invite machlokes. The chachamim have told us: Just as it is a mitzvah to say that which will be taken to heart, so it is a mitzvah not to say that which will not be taken to heart. Rabbi Joseph Lookstein, in whose shul I grew up, once asked Rav Moshe Zevulun Margolies, “Why is it that the people always listen to you?” The response came: “Because I only ask of them things that I know they will obey.”
What is a helpful skill you have learned in your time as a shul rav?
I’ve learned to make my sermons shorter. People no longer have the patience for the length we boomers grew up with. I’ve also learned to listen to people, without feeling that I have to convince them or change them. Third, I’ve learned that often people don’t want answers from you—they just want you to sit with them.
Finally, I’ve tried to find a common language through which I can communicate with different types of people. One prime example is my publishing career. I’ve written Haggados (The Unofficial Hogwarts Haggadah and The Superhero Haggadah) and other crossover books (The Unofficial Muggle Megillah and Morality for Muggles, with more in the pipeline) that connect Judaism to popular culture and break the ice with many people.
What are some of both the challenges and triumphs the shul has faced?
In the early going, we were branded in negative ways by some of the neighborhood. That stung because we had founded the shul for important principles, as I discussed above. But time and our behavior cured onlookers of any such assumptions.
Finding space for our minyan at the beginning was not simple. We were the recipients of great kindness from those who let us use their premises for our tefillah, particularly Rav and Rebbetzin Oelbaum. They went out on a limb for us, resisting pressure and allowing us to use their shul’s basement, even though they had many other uses to which it could have been put.
We’ve tried to pay this forward by encouraging others to make use of our premises for more than just a kiddush. Today local collegiates and a kollel (soon, G-d willing, two kollelim) make use of our simchah room, intensifying the sound of Torah and tefillah.
A challenge we face today is increasing the shul’s ranks. COVID-19, neighborhood demographics, greener pastures in other neighborhoods, and other factors have caused our numbers to shrink, especially in its younger layers. We search for ways to build our numbers once again.
I’ve discussed many of our triumphs above. Baruch Hashem, we have been diligent to live up to the four principles upon which the shul was founded, making course corrections when needed. We continue to be an address for women’s learning and Israel programming. Over the years, our Youth Groups were so popular that parents from other shuls would send their kids over (and forget about them…). This Shavuos, we are hosting Prof. Yonatan Grossman, one of the greatest experts and presenters of Tanach in the world.
Thank you for allowing me these moments of nostalgia and introspection, and for enabling me to appreciate Etz Chaim afresh and contemplate a bright future!
