What Are Schochet’s Ambitions?

By COLlive reporter

Rabbi Yitzchok Schochet of Mill Hill Synagogue in London authors numerous articles, including the Diary Rabbi column in The Guardian and was featured in The London Times as well as Time Magazine. He lectures extensively across England and abroad as a regular panelist for BBC’s The Big Questions.

But his impressive resume has one of his supporters wondering if all that can hurt a potential candidacy for Chief Rabbi of Great Britain when Rabbi Jonathan Sacks retires in September 2013.

“I am a big fan of your column, but I wonder if sometimes you’re just a little too outspoken,” a woman called Belinda wrote in to Schochet’s Ask the Rabbi section in London’s Jewish News.

“Doesn’t that harm your chances of becoming the next Chief Rabbi? I agree that there should be an election and I would vote for you. I just wonder whether you’re really doing yourself any favors when diplomacy is a much more important art.”

To which Rabbi Schochet responded:

Dear Belinda,

Let me be clear when I say that the Chief Rabbinate is not a job for a Yiddishe boy. So thanks, but no thanks. Still, as with regard to being outspoken let me say this:

I was in conversation with Rabbi Dr. Louis Jacobs many years ago when he turned to me and said: “You and I suffer from the same problem. We both like to articulate our opinion and some people have a hard time dealing with that.”

This was in response to a very public debate we had on the future of Anglo-Jewry. It’s what he said next that I will always remember: “Stand strong in your beliefs. Even if many won’t agree with you, most will respect you.”

I was reminded of that conversation recently when encountering a rather burly looking individual at a petrol station. “You’re the rabbi from the BBC, right?” As a frequent panellist on the BBC One’s Big Question, I had recently participated in a debate on the subject of Islamic radicalism on university campuses and I feared the abuse that I thought was coming next. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised: “I don’t agree with everything you said, but I like the way you make your argument and stand your ground. Good stuff.”

In the 2004 US elections, the Americans coined the phrase “flip-flop” to describe those politicians who either waver in their views or who tended to show varying faces to different audiences. Those who strive to be all things to all people are usually doomed to failure.

There is an old Jewish expression, rooted in the Talmud: “A rabbi who is loved by everyone is not a good rabbi, and a rabbi who is disliked by everyone is not a good person.” The obvious resolution to this paradoxical statement is that the dual role of a rabbi is on the one hand, to be a good person, by definition, to have a warm demeanour and an approachable personality.

As a leader, you can’t afford to be aloof so that others cannot relate to you. Invite them closer into your soul rather than keeping them at arm’s length by the many titles before or letters after your name. By the same token, one has to be firm in their resolve such that everyone, on whichever side of the fence knows exactly where you stand, even if in fact some don’t like it.

When I went for my interview for the position at Mill Hill United Synagogue 18 years ago, I stood against 18 other candidates. The outstanding concern with regard to myself was that I am Chabad. I remain convinced until this day that what secured the unanimous vote in my favour was when I unabashedly stated that I knew this was of concern to many, but what they ought to appreciate is that with Chabad, “what you see is what you get.”

That is precisely why Chabad is the single most successful outreach organisation in the Jewish world. Everyone knows where they stand on the religious spectrum, even as they are open and welcoming to all Jews from all walks of life. People have greater confidence in you when they know what you stand for and that even if it may be diametrically opposite to their viewpoint, you respect them nonetheless.

In Yiddish, there is an expression, mir ken nisht tansen oif tzvei chassunehs – which translates as: “You cannot dance at two weddings at once.” Technically, you could run from one to the other, but sooner or later people at both parties will wonder where your loyalties really lie. Sometimes, you may well end up asking yourself the same question. Diplomacy is an art but that shouldn’t be confused with flip-flopping. My late grandfather, who was a widely respected Chief Rabbi in two European countries, used to say: “When you try to walk in the middle of the road, you are likely to get hurt.”

When I attended Limmud in December, I delivered a lecture on the “Challenge of the Jew in the 21st Century.” One non-Orthodox man sitting in the audience made it abundantly clear that he knew me for my reputation of being outspoken and attended my talk with the expectation of getting very angry by what I might say. His own wife steered clear for fear of embarrassment of his outburst. He did, however, tell me how much he appreciated what I had to say and while he did not agree with all of it, he admired the power of my convictions, the amiable approach and, as he put it, “would welcome the opportunity to shake my hand afterward.”

Affable but assertive is the right blend of character for every rabbi and leader. Sometimes, when you want to lead the orchestra you have to be prepared to turn your back on the crowd. Not everyone will agree with you, but most will respect you for it.