Rav Dov, tzar li alecha* - I am heartbroken by your passing.
From the time I met you more than fifty years ago, mesmerizing young teenagers in our synagogue, I told you that you could become a great rabbi. Your passion for our people and our land knew no bounds. I saw in you a genius wordsmith, whose ability to share Torah was extraordinary. All this was combined with a deep and abiding love for Am Yisrael.
Over the years, though our theology remained rooted in the same love for Torah, our people and land, we walked different paths. You were especially troubled by Open Orthodoxy, writing many columns critical of what it represented. This reached its peak when I felt it was time to begin a women’s rabbinical school - ordaining women rabbis steeped in Torah.
Yet despite our differences, I was never upset, never angered by your criticism. I knew it came from a deep place - one of sincerity, honesty, and integrity. Even when your words were fiery, you somehow managed to separate the issue from the person. Between the lines, I could always feel the white fire of your warmth and care.
On several occasions, I called you to say that I fully understood where you were coming from, and that nothing - absolutely nothing - would ever come between us. My feelings of respect and gratitude for you remained steadfast.
I will always treasure your return call, which remains saved on my phone. You spoke candidly about the great physical challenges you were facing, and yet, in your kindness, you mentioned my role in inspiring you to enter the rabbinate.
When I learned of your death, I stood frozen in shock, tears welling up, longing to give you the hug I always gave you whenever we met.
I offer the tefillah that even as I remain committed to my own definition of a modern, open orthodoxy, that you forgive me for any pain I may have caused you.
In a certain sense, our friendship - yes, our love for each other - is a living lesson in Ahavat Yisrael. For me, as I know for you, our people are not just our people - they are our family. And the test of family is not whether we love each other when we agree, but whether we can love each other even when we disagree.
Dov, dear Dov - tzar li alecha, achi.*
I am deeply grieved by your passing. Please know that you lifted me, and will always remain with me.
Go in peace, my dear Rav Dov.
May your legacy continue to inspire me - and all of Am Yisrael - forever.
Rabbi Avi Weiss is a theologian, writer, spiritual activist and founding rabbi of the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale - the Bayit.
*Part of a verse in David's elegy for King Saul and his son Yonatan (Samuel II, Chap.1), in which David calls Yonatan his brother.