The Love of a God-Centered Community
May 27, 2025
The warmth was overwhelming. I would even dare to describe it as love. I came away filled with it, humbled, but also elevated. Here's what I'm talking about.
Last evening, I had the privilege of sharing the words below with a small group of long-time members of my shul (synagogue). We were treated to the most beautifully arranged table and dinner to honor and to say goodbye to Chaie (Eileen) Shmidman, our late rabbi Michael Shmidman's wife. She will return to Jerusalem forever later this week.
We who gathered were mainly in our seventies, eighties, and even nineties. One of us came in a wheelchair; two others, myself included, used walkers--and many were still able-bodied and some were younger--especially our current and lovely and oh-so-warm Rebittzen, Shani Skydell. Some women have been going to this shul for forty or more years. I'm a relative newcomer, having been there for only twenty-two years. Since the pandemic, many of our Torah classes with Reb Skydell (which I highly recommend) have been on Zoom. I was thrilled to see some of my Torah classmates in person--in three dimensions, not only on flat screens.
And here's what I read aloud to one and all.
Dearest Women, My Very Dearest Rebittzen Chai:
I am so glad to be with you all here tonight. Please allow me to thank our hostess, Phyllis Korff, and her organizer-helper, Renee Erreich, for bringing us together. But especially, a thousand thanks to our beloved Chai, who has returned from the Holy Land to meet with us.
Chai: Together with you, we have all also lost our guiding light, our great rabbi, your husband, Rabbi Shmidman, z"l. He is ostensibly gone but in truth, he lives on in each one of us; his light has been dispersed and now exists within all of us who have gathered here, and within every one of his congregants, and students; we have lost our long-time "bayit."
But we have you, the very woman who was his bayit (house)--his Keter (crown) too, and our bayit as well. You have shared in the Torah of our Rabbi. As many recite in the morning: "Hear my child the mussar (teachings of tradition) of your father and do not forsake the Torah of your mother."
And more: "When God instructed Moses to prepare the people of Israel to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai, God said: "Speak to the house of Jacob, and tell the sons of Israel" (Shmot 19:3). This has been variously interpreted, in Shmot Rabbah 28:6, that the women ("the house of Jacob") should be told first, that we will understand it and we will "na'aseh v'nishma." The men ("sons of Israel") should be told next, perhaps instructed in the rules and punishments. The women will immediately "get it" in our very bones and then teach it to the children. Rashi says that the women must be spoken to "gently." Halavai!
Chai: You are the ezer kenegda (the mysteriously God-titled helpmate) who gave the Rabbi, a man who lived fully in so many worlds, a safe and enduring harbor. You were the one constant, the point of steadiness, for him and for your family (which also included us) in a very troubling world.
I remember only some of the many teaching that the Rabbi "gave over." Why Abel's gift was accepted and Cain's was not--because Abel arranged his offering neatly, carefully.
Right now, I am thinking of what he said about Rachel Imenu, or rather what he taught us about what Ya'akov said when she died, namely, that Rachel "met alai," she died all over me, she would always be dying all over him--just as the Rabbi's death now feels. But in fact, his life is what will remain with us for the duration of our own.
I will never forget the Rabbi's thoughts about how Yitro recognized Moshe as an Egyptian. It could not have been his clothing which must have long ago withered away. He wondered whether Moshe had tattoos, or jewelry, or a hairstyle that remained recognizably Egyptian.
I remember what the Rabbi said about Esther--that she had "hain," grace, and may have resembled so many different ethnicities that she could be claimed by all.
Chai: I love you in general, but especially because you would often stop the Rabbi in our class as he moved right on: "Michal, listen to her. Phyllis has something else to say." And oh, how you empowered my non-traditional questions and views about Avraham, Sarah, and even about Lavan. You listened to the students and he listened to you. "Sh'ma B'Kolah."
Remember when you asked me if I could tape the Rabbi and then edit his Torah into a printed form? And when he absolutely refused to participate? Well, at the time, I did not understand how seriously he took Mishnah Aleph in Perkei Avot. Quite simply, it tells us that "Moshe kebel Torah Misinai," and he in turn gave it over to Yehoshua (Joshua), who in turn passed it on to the "zkanim," the Elders, who then passed it on to the prophets, and then to the "Anshei Knesset Ha Gedolah," the men of the Great Assembly.
In turn, and in like fashion, the Rabbi passed it on to us--verbally. Just as our honorable ancestors did.
Chai: When they composed Ashes Chayil, I am sure they had you in mind. "Her lamp never goes out at night, her husband is prominent in the gates...her mouth is full of wisdom...her works praise her in the gates."
Thanks to Renee who asked me to look into Perkei Avot.