FROM ISTANBUL TO CINCINNATI; LIFE AT THE COLLEGE

 PART VI

Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D  

LEAVING CINCINNATI

Towards the end of my fifth year at the Hebrew Union College, the question arose as to where  would I serve the Jewish community. There was no future for Reform Judaism in Turkey, so I had to find another country. France had limited possibilities. I did not care for a position in England or South Africa.  So, it was either Australia or New Zealand. But the College had other ideas. One day I was asked to meet with Dr. Sandmel, the provost. He told me, “Rifat, you are going to Buenos Aires.” I was shocked! I said, “Why Argentina? I don’t know anyone there.” “Well,” he added, “the World Union for Progressive Judaism that paid for your education needs you there, because you can speak Spanish.” I was not very happy, but did not have another choice. I asked for his personal advice. He suggested that I apply for an American citizenship before leaving the country. (Regrettably, I did not do that at the time). I told him that I would like to visit my parents before traveling to Argentina. He said he would facilitate this. Rabbi Haim Asa, who was the first Rabbi of Temple Emanu-El in Buenos Aires, was leaving at the end of June. The congregation would have to wait until late August for my arrival.

            In the meantime, I prepared myself for my ordination and eventual departure. The Consecration program took place at Rockdale Temple on Friday night June 3, 1966. The 82^nd Ordination service was held at the Isaac M. Wise Temple on Saturday morning, June 4. At the beginning of a very impressive ceremony, 17 of us walked down the aisle with academic garb. Provost Samuel Sandmel presented the hoods to us, and Nelson Glueck conferred our degrees. He blessed each one of us in front of the ark, sharing personal thoughts privately with us. Rabbi Isaac Jerusalmi gave the final benediction. Then we all went to a downtown hotel for a luncheon.  Because I did not have any family that would sponsor the lunch for me, I invited the Guttmanns, (He was my Talmud professor), the president of my congregation in Kokomo, IN and few others local friends. 

            Shortly after, I said good-bye to Cincinnati and all the people I knew in the States, and left for Turkey. My parents were glad to see me, and I was happy to be back with the family. However, I was anxious to start my work in Buenos Aires. An important incident prompted my departure from Istanbul. At that time, Turkey and Greece were at each other’s throats over Cyprus, and there was a great likelihood that they would go to war over it. I decided to get out before being called up as a reserve officer. I departed a few days earlier than expected. It was a smart move, for a few hours after I left home, the Turkish military came home to look for me. By that time I was on my way to Argentina, a move that represents a pivotal experience in my life.  It was in Buenos Aires that I revived a small congregation, Templo Emanu-El, got married to Ines and became a father. On Aug. 1969, we left for Philadelphia to begin work as Rabbi-Educator at Main Line Reform Temple,  and to obtain my doctoral degree at the University of Pennsylvania in Bible and Cuneiform studies. In 1975, after I got my Ph.D , we left for North Shore Congregation Israel in Glencoe, IL and in 1980, we came to Needham, MA, and I became the Rabbi of Temple Beth Shalom, from which I retired in 2003.

 

FROM ISTANBUL TO CINCINNATI; LIFE AT THE HEBREW UNION COLLEGE; THREE VIGNETTES

 PART V

Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D

In addition to our studies at the Hebrew Union College,  each student worked outside, on a part-time basis, in order to make a few dollars. Most of us taught in Sunday schools. I got a job at Rockdale Temple in one of the suburbs of Cincinnati. Since I did not have a car, I depended on others who taught there to drive me back and forth. In my third year, at a student lottery, I ended up with Meir Chayim Temple, a bi-weekly congregation in McGehee, Arkansas. This was a small synagogue in the middle of the South-about 30 families. Twice a month, on Friday mornings, I used to fly to Little Rock, and then take a bus for “whites only”!!! (This was terrible, but those were the days). My responsibility was to lead services on Friday night and to teach on Sunday mornings. I was also asked to join the Rotary luncheons on Fridays. For this I was paid $75 per trip plus expenses, enough to give me some spending money. In my fourth year, I went to Temple Israel in Jonesboro, Arkansas (about 75 families), and for my last year I went to Temple B’nai Israel in Kokomo, Indiana (about 100 families). By that time, the stipend had gone up to about $150 per trip. It was in these congregations that I learned how to function as a congregational Rabbi.

During the summer of 1962 I went to Europe, Israel and Turkey. I was in touch with my family on a regular basis by mail, but had not seen them in person. So, it was nice going back to be with Mom, Dad and Joe, my younger brother. Mom, however, had other plans for me: she wanted to marry me off. In preparation, she had already lined up a few candidates. In those days, I was worth about $100,000 in dowry, a huge amount of money. The minhag in Turkey was for the family of the bride to give a large sum of money to the groom in order to make sure that he would take care of her in the manner in which she was accustomed.   The higher the groom’s education, the higher the dowry. I could not believe what my mother had done, all with good intentions, of course. Yet, I broke her heart when I refused to see any of the candidates, arguing that I would be in Turkey for a short time, and could not possibly make a lifetime commitment to anyone, no matter how wealthy or how beautiful. My mother and, they tell me, the expectant brides, were disappointed. After a short visit, I left Turkey and returned to Cincinnati.

           

My social life at the College was rather poor. I did not have a car- a major disadvantage- and, therefore, had to depend on others for double dating. Furthermore, I was a foreigner, who most likely would have to leave the country for some God forsaken place. The scholarship I received obligated me to serve a progressive congregation outside of the States for a period of two to three years. In those days, what Jewish girl would, in her right mind, leave America, the goldene medina, to go to a third World country? Once in a while a group of us tried to date women from the University of Cincinnati‘s SDT sorority (Jewish). However, it had a reputation of being a place where girls were “seldom dated twice.” Though many of my friends ultimately met and married wonderful women from this sorority, I did not. So, I spent most of my time, either thinking about girls (Remember, I was about 28 years old)  or, most productively, studying, because I knew that this would secure my future. 

Next: Leaving Cincinnati

 

 

FROM ISTANBUL TO CINCINNATI; LIFE AT THE HEBREW UNION COLLEGE; PART iv.

 A FEW VIGNETTES

Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D

In the 60’s, first and second year rabbinic students were required to lead services in the Chapel. Upper level students preached on Shabbat morning, and then on Monday there was a sermon evaluation. When it was my turn to lead the service for the first time, I realized that I had a slight problem. Even though we all studied modern Hebrew in class, the minhag (“custom”) of the Chapel was to recite the Hebrew passages of the liturgy in Ashkenazic. I did not know how to do that, nor did I want to learn it. It sounded strange to my ear. So, I went to see Dr. Glueck, and told him that, being a Sephardic Jew, I did not know how to read Hebrew with Ashkenazic pronunciation. He demurred for a minute but then said, “Rifat, OK, you can read Hebrew in Sephardic.” From then on, using me as an example, other students pressed him for a change. Within a short time, all services in the Chapel were switched from Ashkenazic to Sephardic Hebrew. 

- Many prominent scholars passed through the College. Among them one person stands out: Prof. Gershom Scholem, the great German-Israeli scholar of Jewish Mysticism. One year he came to do some research at our library. He was by himself and stayed in the dorm, in the room next to mine. On the weekends, because there were fewer students around (they were either at their by-weeklies or with their families), Prof. Scholem and I became kind of friendly. I am saying “kind of” because, he was a stern man with a dry sense of humor. He spoke English well, though with a heavy German accent. Once in a while, he and I used to go out to the movies. I must be honest that at the time I did not realize what a giant he was in his field. Now I know better, and I will always cherish the times we spent together.

- Another person whose memory stayed with me was Hiroshi Okamoto, later Rabbi Okamoto, originally from Japan. He and his family came to the College to pursue graduate studies in Judaism. After a few years, however, he decided to convert, and underwent circumcision. His wife, too, converted. I befriended Hiroshi and his family. I remember going out with them to drive-ins on Saturday nights. One summer, Hiroshi and I were teaching at “Towanda” (the preparatory summer Hebrew classes at the HUC)- he dealing with beginners and I with more advanced. When his students transferred into my section, I noticed that they were not pronouncing the Hebrew letter “R” (the letter “resh,”) correctly, saying “L” (the letter “lamed”) instead. For example, they would say “Losh” instead of “Rosh” (“head” in Hebrew). They were, in fact, copying Hiroshi who did not pronounce his “R’s very well. (Japanese does not have the equivalent of the American “r.”). When I realized that, I told Hiroshi, “Let me teach the beginners, and you handle the more advanced.” He agreed, and we made the change. Now the students had a solid foundation. After his ordination in 1964, Hiroshi took an academic position in Florida. Sadly, he died a few years after that. He was a wonderful man, one of the most decent human beings I knew.

- Another person I remember was Prof. Abraham Cronbach, who had by that time retired from the faculty. He was a saint! He was also a pacifist. After the Rozenbergs were put to death in 1953 for spying against the US, it was Dr. Cronbach who officiated at their funeral. One Saturday afternoon he came to the College and met with a group of us in the “bumming” room, a foyer outside the dining room. His message to us stayed with me until now. He told us not to judge another without knowing all the facts, and gave us two examples: At a ball game, everyone stood up for the National Anthem, except for one. A spectator got mad and insulted him, until he realized that the person who remained seated was in a wheel chair.  Another story: he had a luncheon date with his son-in-law who came half an hour late. He did not say a word. His son-in-law asked, “Aren’t you going to get mad at me because I am late?” “I will,” answered Dr. Cronbach, “after I find out the reason why!”

 

FROM ISTANBUL TO CINCINNATI; LIFE AT THE HEBREW UNION COLLEGE, PART III

 

Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D.

 

MY TEACHERS

During my stay at the College (1961-66), I had a number of teachers who shaped my thinking. Among them, I can mention the following: Dr. Samuel Sandmel, Bible professor and an expert in the New Testament, infused in me the love of Torah and particularly the study of Bible and Biblical criticism. I studied Bible and New Testament with him, and did an “honors” elective on the development of the Graf-Wellhausen theory. Dr. Julius Levy, professor of ancient Near Eastern studies, and his wife Dr. Hildegard Levy always answered my questions about Hebrew grammar or ancient history. Dr. Jacob Marcus, professor of American Jewish history, used to invite me to his house for lunch, and served me steak and potatoes, while pacing up and down the dining room. He always called me, “Rifat, my boy.” He had met my parents in Israel once, and always asked me about them. Dr. Nelson Glueck, the president of the institution and a well-known archaeologist, knew me well, and asked me over to his house a number of times. Dr. Alvin Reines, professor of Jewish Philosophy, was a very demanding teacher. He had us memorize his class notes, whether we were studying a medieval Jewish philosopher or his own polydoxic approach to theology. But he made us think, and opened our eyes to the intricacies of Jewish thought like no other teacher before. Dr. Jakob Petuchowski, a German born professor who taught liturgy, had a sarcastic approach to everything, but he knew his material well. We learned a lot from him. Dr. Sheldon Blank, Bible professor, was a sweet old man who had a passion for the prophets. He and his wife used to invite students to their home on Shabbat afternoons for tea and conversation. I considered Dr. Ellis Rivkin, history professor, more of a philosopher of history than a mere historian. I learned from him how to look at history from an economic point of view. Dr. Alexander Guttmann (the “Goose”), Talmud professor, tried to make the classes lighter by concentrating on sexual matters. (By the way, I dated his daughter for a while). Dr. Eugene Mihaly, our Midrash professor (called the “Duke” or “the Grease Gypsy” by the students), introduced us to the developmental thinking of the ancient Rabbis. He used to insist that one should never preach “against” the traditional text. If you cannot use the text for a positive message, don’t use it at all, he would say. At that time, we all agreed. [I don’t anymore]. And then we had Mr. McCoy, a wonderful gentleman who was a protestant minister before he gave up service in the church to teach rabbinic students how to preach and how to speak properly. He also taught us how to behave on the pulpit (“Make sure your zipper is up”).