Home

This past weekend, Dec. 5, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Horowitz, the Bostoner Rebbe, passed away in Jerusalem. The Bostoner Rebbe was the sandek at my bris. He married my parents. The Rebbe last called my family about seven months ago during shiva for my grandmother. A month later, the Rebbe had a heart attack from which he never recovered.

I don't say this because my family had a unique relationship with the Rebbe. Just the opposite. Our relationship with the Rebbe was typical for those who grew up in Boston. The Rebbe was mishpacha (family). He treated all of us as family and we responded in kind.

When my mother had a kashrut question, she called the Rebbe. When my mother told the Rebbe she felt uncomfortable behind the mechitza (divider) because she couldn't see the services, the Rebbe installed a tinted glass partition.

My zayde was a cattle farmer. One time, he made the mistake of purchasing a cow that had never given birth and he soon became the owner of a bechor, first-born animal that needs to be consecrated. Such an animal can never work, be slaughtered, or sold, unless it develops an imperfection. The only hope for such an imperfection was an agent for the agricultural department who tagged the cattle in their ears; if the tag went through the cartilage, the bull could then be sold.

Imagine the Rebbe stepping through the mud toward a half-ton bull to examine its ear. Yet, he was the Rebbe. Who else would you call? The Talmud says that when Yonasan ben Uziel studied Torah, a bird flying overhead would become scorched (Sukkah 28A). The Talmud then asks what of his teacher, Hillel the Elder? So great was Hillel's humility that the bird would not become scorched.

Such was the humility of the Bostoner Rebbe that he could conceal his greatness. His father, Reb Pinchos Dovid, used to joke that, rather than name himself after his hometown in Europe as was the custom, he called himself the Bostoner Rebbe because who could expect so much from a "Bostoner Rebbe"?

A few years after his father's death, at the age of 23, Reb Levi Yitzchak became the first American born Hassidic rebbe. Shortly thereafter, and long before Chabad houses dotted the countryside, the Bostoner Rebbe launched the first major Jewish outreach campaign in America by simply walking onto the campuses of Harvard and MIT and inviting students to his home for Shabbos. Over the years, the Rebbe attracted several hundred Jewish students to become Torah observant.

The Rebbe also launched Rofeh International. Boston is one of the preeminent medical centers in the world and Rofeh International helps people get appointments with leading specialists. It also provides food and a furnished apartment so people can get the medical care they need without worrying about details of the trip.

Later in life, Reb Levi Yitzchak built a Hassidic community in Har Nof, Israel, and made aliyah. He was then invited to join the Council of Torah Giants (Gedolei HaTorah).

And yet, he was still the Rebbe. Brilliant, eloquent, charismatic, warm, and funny -- but still the Rebbe that anybody could call or visit.

The Bostoner Hassidus philosophy can be summarized as absolute devotion to Torah, boundless love toward your fellow Jew, and walking humbly. My family will sorely miss Reb Levi Yitzchak. After all, he was our Rebbe and he was family.

Joey Warren lives in Aberdeen.