Virtues of the Marathon Rabbi

Even before my first day on the job, 44 years ago, as I was stocking up at a supermarket for my new residence, a soon-to-be congregant approached me in the parking lot. “You won’t last one year in Congregation Neve Shalom,” the congregant said. Your predecessor was too beloved, and you’ll never fill his shoes.”

That was when I first understood a question I was asked more than once as a rabbinical student in the 1960s: “Is this a job for a Jewish boy?” Young colleagues today tell me they continue to be asked the same question. The question is intended to be humorous, but also empathetic. It means, “How can an able and dedicated person like yourself eschew the other career possibilities to do this one, and subject yourself to 24/7 work, a fish bowl existence, contradictory demands from contradictory constituencies and 1,000 bosses?”