![]() Author's N.J. roots spark renewed faith
A rabbi's eulogy helps Albom embrace his Jewish identity
Seth Mandel THE JEWISH STATE October 9, 2009
A rabbi's request was all it took. Neither the physical distance -- 600 miles between Detroit and Haddon Heights, N.J. -- nor the spiritual distance between God and a Jewish man living "the great tradition of running away" was any match for the eulogy that would connect the scattered dots of Mitch Albom's spiritual identity. In 2000, Rabbi Albert Lewis asked Albom, the Passaic-born bestselling author and sportswriter living in Detroit, to write his eulogy. Lewis gave one reason -- he wanted the memorial service attendees to hear from a congregant, and Albom spent his childhood in Lewis' South Jersey shul. But Albom knew there was another reason. "I think he knew that by asking me -- and when I said I was going to need to get to know him better -- that he would sort of hook me back into this way of reconnecting me with my Jewishness," Albom said. "And he did," Albom added. "He was right on both counts." Albom spoke with The Jewish State the week "Have a Little Faith" was released. The book is Albom's chronicle of his discussions with Lewis and his work with the I Am My Brother's Keeper Ministry, a church in Detroit that, combined with his preparation for Lewis' eulogy, rekindled Albom's faith. "I find this whole thing has led me to wonder why I have been given so much when there's so little around me," Albom said. "And both at night and in the morning I have a ritual now of sort of going through a little routine with God asking to get through the day with a good perspective, and at the end of the day hoping that I did it well." Albom was surprised when Lewis made the request, but was happy to oblige. Albom had one condition, however: he wanted to meet regularly with the rabbi to get to know him as a person, not just a spiritual leader. Lewis agreed, and the two met regularly at the rabbi's New Jersey home. Those discussions gave Albom the opportunity to challenge his doubts about religion and to get answers to many of his questions. Always believing that rabbis float somewhere between heaven and earth, Albom saw the humanity and humility it took for a rabbi to successfully watch over his community, as Lewis always had. In the process, Albom picked up some of that humility as well. "This stuff is always there," Albom said. "If you went and spent as many visits with Albert Lewis as I did I have no doubt... your perspective would change." Albom said he witnessed a man who was dying, but was serene and rock solid in his faith, always putting the wellbeing of others first. At the same time, Albom was spending time at Brother's Keeper watching Pastor Henry -- a reformed drug addict with a difficult past -- sacrifice his own comfort on a daily basis to make sure the homeless in his neighborhood had a place to sleep, a warm jacket, and something to eat. "To me, those are little acts of faith that are huge because nobody's watching, nobody's recording it, nobody's telling the world how great you are," Albom said. "But I had a chance to see those things, and seeing them really inspired me. As soon as you put in the time and go down there and are with people like this, you change. You can't not change." In fact, it was his work with Pastor Henry that spurred the book. Albom, author of the bestselling "Tuesdays With Morrie," which was based on Albom's conversations with a former professor dying of ALS, didn't want to write a book so similar to "Tuesdays". With the pastor involved, the story became much more universal -- "Not just you're little particular tale, but something that could resonate with a lot of people," Albom said. In addition to his daily prayers, Albom said his renewed Jewish faith actually has led him to do more volunteer work at Pastor Henry's church. He said at first glance it might not seem like a way to express his Jewishness. "But I believe it does, because I think God wants you to help poor people, and I don't think he distinguishes between if they're your poor people or somebody else's poor people," Albom said. "And living here in Detroit -- this is where our poverty is." Albom's wife, Janine, is Christian and half-Lebanese. He said she was happy to see him come a little closer to God. "I think she's gotten a kick out of the fact that I am now the first official Jewish member of the I Am My Brother's Keeper Ministry," Albom quipped. "My wife, I have to say, we never had any issues about coming from different faiths. The only thing that she ever said was, 'I want you to have some faith. It doesn't matter to me what it is'." It wasn't important to her whether Albom's journey took him through churches or synagogues, just that he made the journey. "She's pleased because I spent time with faithful people, and I think she thinks that that has a good effect," he said. The process also brought Albom closer to the rabbi's family -- and in a way brought the rabbi's children closer to their father. Albom said the rabbi's children read the manuscript of the book before it was published, and learned a little more about their father. "All the kids said to me, 'I heard some stories that I didn't even know until you told them.' That's not surprising, because sometimes you take stuff for granted in a family until someone asks," he said. The book also serves as something for the family -- as well as the community and Albom himself -- to remember Lewis by. And they were appreciative of the opportunity and Albom's effort. "They were very moved," Albom said. "They're a very tight-knit family. They were grateful that it worked out the way it did." "Have a Little Faith" is available from all major booksellers. |