Rabbi Jacob Joseph (1840-1902)

Today seems to be the day for anniversaries, as 103 years ago [on July 28, 1902] the first and only chief rabbi of New York, Rabbi Jacob Joseph (1840-1902) passed away.

[... -- see AJHistory for further details.]

An important primary source in understanding the issues surrounding R. Jacob Joseph’s life and eventual death can also be found in Judah David Eisenstein’s autobiographical memoir Otzar Zikhronotai, where he recalls (in 1929) R. Jacob Joseph, who, as mentioned previously, “was New York’s first and only chief rabbi.” The translation found at the Otzar Zikhronotai blog is courtesy of Rabbi Robert L. Samuels, The Life and Work of Judah David Eisenstein as Reflected Primarily in His Memoirs (Rabbinical thesis, Hebrew Union College, 1960); and is reprinted here with full permission:

Rabbi Jacob Joseph, a righteous teacher in Vilna and known also as “Harif” arrived at Hoboken on the ship Alair [?] on the Sabbath of Devarim in 1888, but he did not disembark from the ship. On Saturday night they took him in a carriage to Mayer’s Hotel in Hoboken, and on the morrow they brought him to New York. Among those who came to greet and to honor him were Rabbi Joshua Rothstein and the wealthy Henry Ziak [?], (and I also was among them), and the rest of the officers of the Union of Congregations which brought him to America to serve as the chief rabbi. When he was in Hoboken Saturday night he gave his first sermon and the subject of the sermon was the passage, “How graceful are your feet in sandals, O queenly maiden!” (Song of Songs 7:10). On the following Sabbath he preached in the Bet HaMidrash HaGadol. People assembled in such a huge crowd (for he was an awesome and holy man in their eyes) that the congregation was forced to bring policemen to aid them. People were standing double in the synagogue to hear him speak. I was there as vice-president of the synagogue. Concerning his sermon, he did not succeed fully in moving his hearers here, even though in Vilna he had preached so eloquently to the congregation that he had brought tears to those who heard his voice speaking of ethics which flow from a pure heart. Of course, his language style used in his preaching was Lithuanian, without any order and he mixed together a good bit of nonsense with a little subtle argumentation and points of Scripture. He hurt the ears of the intelligent listeners who were accustomed to preachers whose sermons were delivered clearly in pure English or German, and therefore they didn’t think much of him. They set his salary at $2,500 a year plus the rent of a lovely apartment. They were also forced to pay his financial obligations in Russia which amounted to 5,000 rubles. The people of his city had loaned this sum to him and had a note on deposit, and maintained that it was a humiliation and an insult to the Torah that he should leave the city without paying his creditors. The officials of the [Union of Congregations] were obliged to fill the lack of funds by taking in proceeds from kosher meats. They attached slips on the windows of the slaughter houses, and they put seals on slaughtered fowl. This brought a storm from the women in the kitchens who did not want to pay for an added coast of meat because of the additional income of the rabbi. The masses began to doubt if it was worthwhile to support a chief rabbi if it made meat more costly, and very soon people began to throw pointed remarks, to start rumors, and to cast suspicion on him. Newspapermen representing papers like Die Forwards and Died Wahrheit unleashed their wrath upon him with an overabundance of venom. They caused rumors about the personal life of the chief rabbi and made him despised and troubled. The Union of Congregations which was created for the needs of the rabbi disbanded as the congregations dropped out one by one and no longer accepted his authority. As they withdrew, their financial support was also withdrawn and his income decreased steadily. Poor and lowly was the task of the chief rabbi in the heavenly spheres, and poor and bitter was his lot on this earth. Finally he fell under the weight of his troubles which had been building for two years, and he was seized by apoplexy which extinguished the wick of his life. Alone and rejected he lay on his bed, and the leaders of the city refused to visit him. Only his wife and family and a few other people were in his room at the hour of his death. He passed away on July 28, 1902. After his death all the congregations began to give him the honor which they had withheld during his life. A great multitude of people in the tens of thousands came to see him lying on his death bed and forty rabbis gathered in the cemetery. Each one vied with his colleague to give him a better eulogy. The congregations view with each other, each one desiring to bury him in its own cemetery. Congregation Adath Israel on Elridge Street promised to give his widow $1,000 on the spot and $10 a week all the rest of her life. Congregation Bet HaMidrash HaGadol was permitted to bury him in their plot. This became a good business venture, for immediately after this the family of Kasriel Zvi Sarasohn bought for their father a burial plot next to the chief rabbi and paid $1,500 for it. The plots near the grave of the chief rabbi became extremely valuable. The widow received the amount promised for several years, and then they stopped sending her the money. [pp.88-91]