
As Valley Beth Shalom celebrates the 100th anniversary of Rabbi Harold Schulweis’ birth (and the 20th year since Rabbi Ed Feinstein was named Sr. Rabbi), Feinstein looked back at the more than 55 years he knew Schulweis.
“It’s easy for us to talk about him as rabbi and talk about him as an intellectual, as a philosopher and as an author,” Feinstein said. But “people should know the kind of human being he was: very gentle. We were close. I went with him to a number of events. He was quite sensitive. You think of him as a powerful orator and a very public person.”
To make sure that Rabbi Schulweis would not vanish into history, Rabbi Feinstein arranged for a videographer friend to assist with 11 hours of face-to-face interviews. “I didn’t want to lose Harold’s voice,” he said. “I wanted to make sure that if one day scholars decided to come and recover Schulweis’ voice, they would have it – on video. And now it’s up online.”
Just as important, when Schulweis became very ill Feinstein knew he would have his records – his files and his letters. Not only that, but in addition to his written material, he would have his own memories of him. “Then I did more research – as you always do,” Feinstein said. Looking at the Bronx-born Schulweis’ pre-Valley Beth Shalom career, he discovered Schulweis had served on only one other pulpit, at Temple Beth Abraham in Oakland, where he enjoyed an 18-year run before devoting his 44 years to VBS in Encino. “It turns out,” Rabbi Feinstein said, “there still are folks in Oakland who remember Harold. I went up there and spent an afternoon interviewing these people. I also searched through the archives of Temple Beth Abraham to make sure I had the material I needed from that part of his life. I spent a lot of time with his wife Malka, Of Blessed Memory. She was a marvelous soul in her own right. And I spoke with others who knew him and worked with him.” Feinstein’s research, in pursuit of a doctorate, turned into a 2020 book, “In Pursuit of Godliness and a Living Judaism: The Life and Thought of Rabbi Harold M. Schulweis.”
The hard part for Feinstein was, “how do you take something as big and complicated as a whole life and find a structure to share it? I think I found it. Someday,” he predicted with a smile, “it will be a movie.”
Feinstein wanted to share “a deeply, deeply sensitive side to this soul.” One morning he and Schulweis were doing a service after a tragedy in the community. Someone had lost a baby shortly after birth. When Feinstein went to help Harold with the service, Schulweis couldn’t do it. He got choked up.
“Harold turned to me in the middle of the service,” said Feinstein. “He said ‘Finish it for me.’ He was a person of such sensitivity. When he spoke of the moral truth of the Jewish tradition, that was him, really him. He really felt himself obligated, and he was so compassionate. He would say, ‘Our compassion is how God touches the world.’”
One of Schulweis’ favorite phrases was, “We are the eyes, we are the hands of God.”
Working beside Schulweis, Feinstein observed daily evidence that the older rabbi walked the walk. “He really did,” Feinstein said. “There was a gentleness, a kindness about him. When I began talking to people, they told me stories. One fellow recalled being a high school kid and part of a 10-student Wednesday night class.” The student told him that one Halloween night, he was the only one who showed up. “He said that Rabbi Schulweis sat with him for an hour-and a half. There was a sensitivity to Harold that not many people saw. This is the kind of human being he was.”
One thing he couldn’t do, Feinstein said, was make small talk. “You would go to lunch with him and try to talk about sports, politics. He couldn’t do it. Schmoozing wasn’t his way. He would say, ‘Have you read Martin Buber?’ He would tell you about plays he saw or stories he had read in The New York Times. There was no superficiality about him. All very real. Schmoozing wasn’t him.”
Feinstein marveled at how seamlessly the Bronx native had adapted to Southern California. “Harold loved it here,” he said. “He told me ‘Here there is an atmosphere of openness to the new.’ There is something about being in the sunshine on the edge of the continent that gives you a chance to experiment. He felt many other communities were too conservative.” Feinstein still speaks of Schulweis reverently. “We became very close,” he said, but it took 10 years before he could call him Harold.
When Schulweis grew older and his energy began to flag, he turned over to Feinstein parts of the operation of the congregation. Then one day in 2005, Feinstein said, “he came into the office as he always did, and he said ‘We’re switching jobs.’ I said to him, ‘Harold, I’m really busy today. Don’t mess with me.’’ He said ‘No, no, we’re switching jobs. I am going to the board tonight and telling them.’”
Feinstein thought Schulweis was kidding. Feinstein indeed was too busy to go to that night’s board meeting. Then next day the president of the synagogue came to Feinstein’s office with a confirming announcement. “Harold told us you are the senior rabbi of the congregation and he’s now the junior rabbi,” the president said.
“You are kidding,” Feinstein replied.
Later when Schulweis came to the office, his still stunned deputy bluntly asked, “What the hell did you do?” Just as bluntly, Schulweis replied: “I told you that we are switching jobs. You’ve been running the place. You know how to do it. I will work for you. You’ve been here a dozen years.”
Feinstein knew exactly what his erstwhile boss meant. “Harold had all this energy, all this vision, all this power but he needed to know where to put it,” Feinstein reflected. “I became sort of his agent, his manager, and I would deploy him.”
The trade of duties took place. “I would say ‘Harold, there is a havurah that needs to talk to you,” Feinstein said. “Or ‘there’s a group of kids who need to talk to you. There’s a lecture series I want to do with you.’ We were partners, of course, and I never stopped revering him. He wanted me to place him in circumstances where he could do what he did so well, to teach and to inspire.”
That was how the Feinstein-Schulweis office operated for nine years.
“We worked like that until two weeks before Harold passed away,” on Dec. 18, 2014, Feinstein said. “Even at that point, he still was saying ‘This is what we have to do. Let’s try this’ – speaking with almost blinding rapidity. He also was very, very frail, of course.
Even though the elder rabbi was 89 years old and had survived three heart attacks, he was so alive, the 71-year-old Feinstein said. “I inherited my vigor and my sense of urgency from him. That is what keeps me going.”
And history would seem to be repeating itself. In 2024, Feinstein realized the congregation needed younger leadership. His reward would be that “I’d get to do the things I love to do, primarily a lot of teaching, whatever people want to learn – Torah, prayer, philosophy, Zionism, for kids and for grownups. See, I am a teacher by temperament.”
When he stepped aside, Rabbi Nolan Lebovitz from Adat Shalom succeeded Feinstein at VBS. “I am lucky,” Feinstein said, “because I have a community that likes what I like to do. Harold created an environment, and I got to step right into those shoes.”































