Rabbis, Reform and Chabad, are an Unlikely Duo

The two rabbis have an easy, natural rapport. Like family members, they sometimes finish each other’s sentences, or cut each other off, or jump in with a word of praise. They share simhas and sadness. Their relationship is both personal and professional; it extends to their families and their congregations.

And while that kind of friendship can be difficult to attain even among rabbis of the same denomination, Rabbi Shalom Lubin and Rabbi Ron Kaplan are about as far apart, theologically speaking, as two rabbis can be.

Lubin, who runs the Chabad of Southeast Morris County in Madison, is an emissary of Chabad Lubavitch, the hasidic movement steeped in deeply traditional Orthodoxy.

Kaplan leads Temple Beth Am in Parsippany, a Reform congregation.

Lubin said people tell him all the time they are “so surprised” by the relationship. “That’s touching,” he said. “But at the same time, my goal is to eliminate that surprise. It should be a surprise when rabbis don’t get along.”

Their relationship was on display on a recent Sunday at the last of a series of four classes on Hasidism that Lubin led at Kaplan’s synagogue. The classes had included, one day earlier, a walking tour in Brooklyn to see the hot spots of Hasidism, including the Boro Park and Crown Heights neighborhoods, a matza factory, a Chabad-run Jewish Children’s Museum, and the grave of the late Lubavitcher rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson.

It wasn’t the first time Lubin had taught at Beth Am; Kaplan likes to expose his congregants to the range of Jewish practices. He has brought the synagogue’s religious-school kids to Lubin’s synagogue; similarly, he believes his regular presence as a worshipper at Lubin’s shul offers a way to share his liberal values with that congregation.

“We both believe in Jewish learning and living. Very simply, we are shutafim,” said Kaplan using the Hebrew word for partners. “The irony is that we represent extremes; we are black and white. Why can’t the grays come together?”

Kaplan dismisses out of hand the fears of liberal rabbis who see Chabad and its aggressive outreach to non-Orthodox Jews as a threat.

“I don’t view Chabad or any other Jewish institution or organization as competition. We are one to embrace, inspire, educate,” said Kaplan. “If, as a matter of choice, a person feels more comfortable with that or this, fine. If we do our work well, we can be confident of the people who affiliate here. If he does his work well, he knows he’s attracting people to Chabad. Wonderful.

“We’re all part of the Jewish community.”

The relationship began when Lubin moved into the area about five years ago. He reached out to all of the area’s rabbis and met with those who expressed interest, including Kaplan. Shortly thereafter, Kaplan’s wife, Rabbi Randi Musnitsky, former head of the New Jersey regional office of the Union for Reform Judaism, had an issue at work that required the perspective of an Orthodox rabbi. Kaplan suggested that she consult Lubin.

“It was a very difficult issue to navigate but we all came out of it as friends,” said Lubin. “Randi is really amazing.”

He added, “Often professional relationships spill over into close personal relationships.”

Kaplan was moved when, after his parents died within months of each other last year, Lubin came to the shiva; when Musnitsky had an illness, Lubin brought over chicken soup and hallah for Shabbat.

“It was natural,” said Lubin. “It wasn’t, ‘Why I am bringing this?’ It was no big deal.”

And when Lubin, who has four children, celebrated a brit for child number four in December 2007 and an upsherin for child number three in June 2008, Kaplan and Musnitsky were there to share in the Lubin family’s joy. (An upsherin is a tradition that celebrates a son’s third birthday with his first haircut.)

“I’m very fortunate, very blessed,” said Kaplan, referring to the friendship, which, he said, is similar to one he had with another Chabad rabbi when he and Musnitsky lived in Cherry Hill. Both Kaplan and Lubin agree that the key to their relationship is their natural chemistry.

“In this community, there are other rabbis; I know them, we are acquainted, I respect them. But there’s not that chemistry and rapport we enjoy mutually,” said Kaplan. As a result, except for a once-a-year pulpit swap on Tisha B’Av with Rabbi Donald Rossoff of Temple B’nai Or, a Reform congregation in Morristown, Kaplan has little professional interaction with the other liberal rabbis in the area.

‘Cold cordiality’
Nor is there much interaction among between the Lubavitch shul and other area congregations.

Lubin acknowledged that the reception he gets from many area rabbis is “a cold cordiality.”

Not everyone agrees with the view that “the community only stands to gain” from such a relationship, as Lubin put it.

“I had some challenges with my board, and I had to work at convincing them Chabad is not a threat to the vitality of our congregation and Reform Judaism in general,” said Kaplan.

At the same time, Kaplan acknowledged that he would like to have more of an opportunity “to expose [Lubin’s] people to our Jewish choices and how we feel liberal Jewish life is authentic. But that will come. My being there is a first step. They know I’m a Reform rabbi and they welcome me. I embody the teachings and philosophy of liberal Judaism, and they have that exposure. In time we’ll build adult education, and maybe his children will come here. We’ll grow, and we’ll deepen….”

Lubin gently interrupted to point out, “My daughter has already been on a Beth Am field trip,” referring to the recent visit to Brooklyn. Both chuckle.

“A lot of issues can get in the way if you want them to get in the way,” said Lubin, who compares the two rabbis’ relationship to that of family members with different religious convictions. “We have our issues. But we’re close enough to say, ‘This is comfortable; that might not be.’ We focus on the comfortable.”

It’s certainly easier than focusing on theology. As an Orthodox movement, Chabad believes in strict gender roles for men and women in the synagogue, punctilious adherence to the kosher laws, and traditional views on homosexuality and interfaith marriages. The Reform Beth Am calls itself “a liberal, egalitarian, interfaith-friendly” congregation.

Still, both religious leaders prefer to concentrate on areas of cooperation.

“He’s been to my shul many times,” said Lubin. “He comes with his congregation on Shavuos, on Simhas Torah….”

Kaplan picks up the ball he has been handed, and runs with it. “He honors everyone with an aliya on Shavuos, and he gives me the kohen aliya….”

Heading off from the auditorium to Kaplan’s office for a photo after the class, the two seek to share a feeling — a sort of secret handshake — that amuses even them. At the suggestion of a particular location for the shot, both raise an eyebrow; both agree.