Aryeh as a Rabbi
Here, we invite you to leave your memories of how Aryeh touched your life as a Rabbi, teacher counselor or mentor, etc.
Reb Aryeh Hanukah 2007 (5768)
Reb Aryeh Photos
Here, we invite you to leave your memories of how Aryeh touched your life as a Rabbi, teacher counselor or mentor, etc.
Reb Aryeh Hanukah 2007 (5768)
Remembering Rabbi Aryeh Hirschfield 
January 10, 2009 at 7:52 am
This is from someone in Israel. She says, “I was truly sad and surprised to learn about Rabbi Aryehs’ passing away.
I was moved an inspired by his Drasha when I attended a P’nai Or service about 3 years ago. From my short encounter with him he made a deep impression on me as a person and a leader of a community.
I don’t know what comfort I can offer for loosing such a close friend and a real unique soul. I know how much you tresured him as a friend and Rabbi.
I send all of congregation P’nai Or, and the Hirschfield family my Hishtatfut Be’tzaar- togetherness in sorrow, and a big hug.
Especially today, when Israel is deep in the mids of violent conflict, we could really use more, not less, people like Rabbi Aryeh, who play, sing and pray in a loud, proud and clear voice (as he did at the end of that sevice): “od yavo shalom aleinu, od yavo shalom aleinu, od yavo shalom aleinu ve al kulam!”
Shabbat Shalom,
and all my love
Ariella
January 10, 2009 at 7:56 am
This from Ruth Freidel:
I knew Aryeh for about 40 years – we were soulmates and friends from that beginning meeting. It was long before P’nai Or and long before his ordination. He was the tutor for my daughter, teaching her Hebrew and the prayers when she had absolutely no interest in them at all. Undaunted, and incredibly patient, he taught her the words…but, beyond that, he taught her about spirit and holiness and what it might be like to walk in the world with part of you connected to God and the great beyond. He was poor at the time and unsure of his own direction in life. Yet, tasting various brands of spirituality, going to Native American sweat baths, he continually seemed to gravitate back to his roots in Judiasm, bringing with him the wisdom of the universality of all the other religions and traditions he had sampled.
He performed the baby naming for my younger daughter, coached her for her bat mitzvah, helped me bury both my parents, and counseled me during hard family times. Sometimes, I counseled him.
He taught me the importance of being present….really present with someone, even when children and other concerns of life are pulling at you. But to be present…intellectually and personally and with full heart…is a gift beyond all others. And, when there were insolvable problems…he taught me the value of being a witness. He had the capacity to simple “be…” to tolerate with me the intolerable…to be present with intense losses and heart wrenching…and he never flinched.
We spent a few hours together about a month ago and talked of life and death and what we both still wanted to do. And we made amends to one another, although neither of us thought the other needed to make amends for anything. But we cleaned up the slate anyway…just in case. It was like pre Yom Kippur…but we were past Yom Kippur.
This was a man who walked his talk, who reviewed his relationships with people and continually worked on them and on his own behavior…he was thoughtful and immensely kind. He read and researched and wove sophisticated psychology into his knowledge of Judiasm, making his sermons personal and relevant…and always a little mischievous and funny. He was a man of extraordinary depth and breadth.
And his music…ah…his music………….divine.
January 10, 2009 at 8:05 am
I met Rabbi Aryeh only once when I went to a P’nai Or service, and he struck as such a warm, gentle, open, and caring person. I am, like most other are I assume, shocked to hear the news. Life is such a precious and dear gift. All my love and support to his family and to all his friends and community.
With Sympathy, Adina
January 10, 2009 at 8:09 am
From Holly:
i only met him twice, but both times was deeply moved by his generousity, his gentleness and his direct and honest presence.
January 10, 2009 at 5:12 pm
I had taken a break from Judaism for eight years before rejoining it through P’nai Or. It was the magic, the spontanaeity, the dancing in the aisles with tambourines and singing in harmony that brought me back. It was the personally-relevant Torah commentary and the love in Aryeh’s eyes that brought me back. It was the tenderness of Dovie following Aryeh, with his own stuffed toy Torah scroll or toddler guitar that hooked my heart. I was so hooked, I forsook the life of a college student, as I was, and went to services every friday night and early saturday morning as my way of getting high.
I had a very rough summer at a Jewish retreat center and found that I was never more joyous than when I was talking to others about my Rebbe. I realized during that summer that he was My Rebbe and that the connection I felt with him was something unique in its beauty and irreplacable nature. I began to get very homesick for Reb Aryeh’s leadership and the one-of-a-kind community he had created. I had a few hour-long conversations with him during that summer, last summer, and he filled my aching, lonesome, homesick heart with such a vibrant feeling of being loved. He offered to be my mentor, my teacher, were I to move back to Portland and study long-distance with ALEPH. He consoled me and brought me back to life.
Luckily, before leaving Portland, I had xeroxed an entire P’nai Or binder, so I had the material with me to do shabbat the P’nai Or way. Frequently I would bring it with me to shabbat prayer gatherings just in case I needed to break away and do it the P’nai Or way, and I did have to do this from time to time. Even today, the first shabbas that he isn’t here to experience, I walked in the snow in London to a synagogue to pray for him. The service pained me because of how dull and lifeless it seemed compared to Aryeh’s services, but I stayed, for him. After the room had cleared, I took out my P’nai Or binder and sang every Saturday morning prayer in a loud enough voice for it to resound through the Moorish synagogue. I let his melodies resonate and I let my tears flow. I don’t know how I’m going to manage going to other congregations’ services after the enlightenment I felt with Aryeh’s dear group.
Love,
Helana
January 10, 2009 at 11:42 pm
One of my fondest memories of Rabbi Aryeh happened at my friend Jordon’s Bar Mitzvah. He was on the stage singing when one of his twins (about two years old at the time) ran up to him crying Abba, Abba. Laughing Rabbi Aryeh reached down picked up the child putting him under his Tallis and continued the service. That picture has stayed with me all these years and I remember thinking at the time how his children would grow up with such a deep love of Judism and the wonderful sound of their father’s voice singing of God. And now this dear man is with the God he loved so much, he is still filled with joy and it is the rest of us who will miss him so terribly.
January 13, 2009 at 3:02 pm
My life was touched by Reb Aryeh z’’l only three times–the first soon after tragedy had struck my own congregation, Eitz Or, in Seattle. Our Rabbi, David Wolfe-Blank z”l had lost his life in a car crash in August 1998, and Reb Aryeh was among the Jewish Renewal rabbis who visited and led services for our community during our year of mourning.
In the months after his trip to Seattle, when I visited my parents in Portland, I attended a P’Nai Or song-circle–drawn by his gentle spirit and passion for song.
Several years passed before we met again. He returned to Seattle to lead services in recent years, and I was given the honor of driving him somewhere after the service. As we drove, I shared with him my concern about something in his drash that had troubled. He listened to me with great interest and compassion. Although I have voiced this concern to other spiritual leaders, Reb Aryeh heard me in a way I hadn’t been heard before (or since). I had since hoped that we would be able to bring him back to lead services at Eitz Or in the coming year.
I hardly knew Reb Aryeh, but I felt deeply connected to him and feel his loss keenly. My prayers for healing go out to his loved ones and to all who felt connected, through knowing him, to the One.
January 14, 2009 at 4:09 am
Like so many others, I returned to Judaism inspired by Reb Aryeh when he was the leader of Havurah Shir Hadash in Ashland. That community was so full of a healing spiritual essence, only those who have known it can fully appreciate it. When I brought my mother to live in Ashland, she was at first stunned by our services; she would sit in her black pants suit and stare around her–probably wondering to what planet her daughter had transported her. After a few months, during Aryeh’s “sermon” one evening she raised her hand, stood up, and said “I have to tell you that I was a member of Temple Isaiah in Los Angeles for forty-five years and this is the first time I have felt the true meaning of Judaism.” Soon she had shed her LA garb for the colorful Guatamalen outfits more commonly seen in Ashland, and would join in the singing and drumming of the Havurah as if it were second nature for her.
Sadly, my mother died only fourteen months afterwards. Reb Aryeh and the congregation saw that I was supported throughout the weeks she had home hospice care and provided an inspiring memorial service for her and a traditional shiva week that lifted me up from my grief surrounded by this caring community. I have never forgotten these gifts and it is with profound sadness that I mourn his passing.
His life was a gift to all who knew him. He was truly a transformative spirit. I send my love to Beth and the family along with the deepest gratitude for the blessing of his neshama and his wonderful music.
January 15, 2009 at 5:41 am
Rabbi Aryeh was the man I’d always assumed would be the teacher who would help me convert to Judaism. I wish him much peace, and I pray his family will heal from this tragic loss.
I think he could sense that I trusted him to be my teacher. And I know he trusted me, even if my conversion process appears as though it ought to be tracked in geologic time rather than in human years. Though I don’t remember the words exactly, the last time he spoke towards me was at this past Rosh Hashanah. He’d called to the bimah any non-Jews for a bracha. Initially, I was the only person to walk up, though others came eventually. After seeing me again at P’nai Or (I’d been absent for awhile) he took the moment to give a prayer for those people who see their spiritual path. I felt, even then, that his blessing was not only a welcoming to his community but also a gentle prodding to, “Get on with it already. What are you waiting for?” For this blessing I am grateful.
I have another memory to share about Rabbi Aryeh. I sent him an email in 2006 telling him why I’d temporarily stopped attending services due to my enrollment in graduate school. I’d like to share his reply here, not only because it’s a great example of his humor but it also shows his faith in the ability of P’nai Or to endure. Here goes:
“Hi, Sandra…Thanks for checking in. It certainly crossed my mind a couple of times recently that I haven’t seen you in quite a while and I was wondering why. So it’s good to know. I know how consuming school can be for people, particularly people who are also parents. Anyway, to paraphrase Isaiah – The mountains may depart and the hills pass away, but, G*d willing, P’nai Or will continue to be around even after Master’s degree and PhD’s are completed.
Blessings for success in all your endeavors.
Rabbi Aryeh”
My Love to the Hirschfield family and to the P’nai Or community. And to Reb Aryeh…Thank You for all you’ve given.
Sincerely,
Sandra Marianne Preston
January 15, 2009 at 6:23 am
As a non-Jew, seeking something very important, I completed the 6-month introductory program and began to visit various congregations. I found Pnai Or during the High Holidays when services were at JCC 5 or 6 years ago and was blown away by Reb Aryeh and the rest of you engaged in that holy process. I began attending, getting to know you and met with him to talk. My life and spiritual journey have led away from Pnai Or for the last couple of years, but I remain on the email service, reading your posts with great interest and it seems as though it was just yesterday I was at services…singing…wrapped in the holiness around me and listening to Aryeh’s transcendant gifts. I am so, so saddened by his passing and was moved by your singing at his service and all the careful, loving rememberances. You are in my thoughts. Like everyone else. I was changed by Reb Aryeh’s presence in my life. I hope to find my way back to Pnai Or in the future. Until then, love to all of you…Beth and the boys especially, in this difficult time. Donna.
January 15, 2009 at 5:45 pm
My first experience with P’nai Or was at High Holy Day services. I was visiting my daughter Terri and her family. I couldn’t get over the way my daughter and son-in-law, who had no religious upbringing, davened and rejoiced in the service. I have been to many Orthodox, Conservative and Reform services over the course of my 84 years, but none that I enjoyed more than the ones he conducted. I could see that Rabbi Aryeh was special. He involved everyone which made the services even more meaningful. We were truly blessed to get to see him lead my precious grandson’s Bar Mitzvah. I feel like his twin boys, Dov and Elisha, are like my grandchildren. They call me Zadie and I feel honored by that. We are better for having known this extraordinary man, Rabbi Aryeh.
January 15, 2009 at 5:49 pm
from a friend of mine who attended my son’s Bar Mitzvah this past November:
I felt so privileged to be able to have shared in a part of the magic – which wasn’t really magic at all, but the rare talent of your Rabbi’s insightful interpretations of old writing and contemporary society woven together and made compelling through his words, music and song. I was very moved by the service he led and Corey’s reading and messages on this special occasion and looked forward to the possibility of being able to attend services again in the future, when I visit you in Portland. Now the memories of that day are even more precious and I am very saddened by the loss for you and your family, your community, and the fact that I was only able to be blessed by his teachings just that once.
January 17, 2009 at 8:59 am
The first time I met Rabbi Aryeh was in the spring of 2007. It was after my first Kabbalat service at P‘nai Or which he lead at St. Luke’s. Everybody had gone home for the evening except him and me. He was by the “open doorway “ of that building about to leave for the night when I approached him for a chat. He lightly leaned upon those “open doors” in the night air and sincerely and without interruption listened to what was probably yet another resume of one’s spiritual journey that lead them to P‘nia Or, the congregation he started here in Portland. Those open doors were a metaphor for the “openness” he gave me that night and to others who followed. I told him that I was a raised a Pentecostal Christian, was gay, ordained and Pastored 2 churches on the East coast and I was studying Kabbalah. Contrary to many of my Christian colleagues who believed I should convert Jews, I reassured Rabbi Aryeh that I was not there for that purpose but was actually on a “journey“ and had no “country”. The only milepost I had at the time was reciting the first part of the Shema in Hebrew in the evening and in the morning. He reassured me that that was a great place to start and it was.
While work became my biggest obstacle to making a regular commitment to P’nai Or or getting to know the Rabbi more personally that did not stop the influence he had on me – on us. As a former Pastor I looked forward to his teachings on Friday nights. My favorite “sermons” where the ones that included tales of Hassidic masters who worshiped G-d all night with singing or the stories of his personal davening such as the time he told us of the “high” he got from trying to say 100 bracha in one day. There was a sermon from Torah portion “Chayei Sara” in which Aryeh asked us how we were going to find light and life in this day – this now – this situation. Many of those sermons were in my comfort zone but I also saw that the Rabbi was taking me – us into places where I would have been afraid to go without his gentle leadership such as his interfaith dialog. This exposure to such dialog could never have happened to me prior to that night by the “open doorway” of St. Luke’s with Rabbi Aryeh. After that year, I became a member of P‘nai Or in 2008. Rabbi Aryeh became my first Rebbi. He introduced to me new words such “niggun” and concepts such as “G-d was in this place and I did not know it”. He not only preached them, he lived them – I could tell.
Again, work kept me from making a regular commitment to services so I begin to pray for a “true Sabbath“ – time off from work which included regular days off of Friday and Saturday. In January of this year I got my prayer answered. I went to P‘nai Or ‘s website January second 2009 to see when Rabbi Aryeh would conduct a Shabbat service so I could tell him that this Gentile was going to experience a true Sabbath, a gift of time. But unfortunately, I returned to the website tonight (Jan. 16) to learn of the untimely death of my new Rabbi. I cried and cried. Rabbi, I thought, there was so much more I – we wanted to share with you, so much more we wanted to tell you. You were capable of giving so much – a true Kabbalist.
My prayers and thoughts go out to Beth and their twin sons. The loss is great and I expect Aryeh to show up at services with his guitar and “Rabbi” clothes on and bringing us corporately into what we Pentecostals call “into the presence of G-d”. But now you are in Hashem’s presence more happier then we. At this time, I can only find comfort from a sermon Aryeh gave about Jacob‘s ladder. Rabbi Aryeh said, Jacob saw a lot on that ladder, a lot of divine things, but that ladder had to have not only its’ top in heaven but the feet of that ladder had to have feet on the ground. In order for it to flow it had to work both ways – up and down. (As we Pentecostals like to say – being solely heavenly minded one can not be of any earthly good.) Jacob saw the various levels of prophecy higher and higher from one level to the next he taught us. The soul of my new Rabbi has reached a level to which we can not be present to now so Good-bye dear Rabbi and Good night. Your memory is sweet like honey and your songs will take us up another rung of Jacob’s ladder for which we all yearn and you have achieved.
SHALOM Rev. Julia Mreczko
February 9, 2009 at 8:34 pm
On January 12th I received an e-letter from my old friend Eric Kimmel, the well-known children’s book author, who lives in Portland. I had written to notify him about Aryeh’s death. He replied as follows:
Thanks for sending me the sad news about Rabbi Hirschfield. It comes as a shocker. I met him only once, in May, under interesting circumstances. My accountant Jason Orme is an LDS (Mormon) bishop. He’s a sincere, honest, and deeply spiritual person, although out of a tradition that might first strike most as strange. However, the more you familiarize yourself with Mormon history and beliefs, you begin to recognize a kinship with Jewish people. We’ve had lots of interesting discussions about history and religion. Jason has asked me several times to give him an understanding of the Jewish interpretation of scripture. Some interesting things have popped up. There are odd little Midrashim that show up in the Book of Mormon. How did they get there?
Jason’s church has been doing a lot of interfaith work, especially with its youth groups. The LDS church wants to be part of that dialogue. Rabbi Hirschfield was invited to give a talk, so Jason asked me to come by.
Rabbi Hirschfield, in half an hour, did what I think was the equivalent of Hillel’s words to the Greek standing on one foot. He was asked some honest, and challenging, questions. What is the Jewish view of scripture? What is the role of Messiah? How do Jews regard Jesus? This to a primarily Mormon audience.
I especially remember his response to a question about the Cross. “Please understand that our associations with this symbol are going to be different from yours. To a Christian, the Cross is a symbol of hope, of salvation, of resurrection, of triumph over Death. To a Jew, it’s a symbol of hatred and persecution. When you’re beaten over the head with something for two thousand years, you’re not going to have warm feelings toward it. Jews have to try to stop seeing a Cossack or an Inquisitor behind every Christian. But Christians also have to realize that a history of mutual distrust is not going to be overcome with a few nice words.”
It was a terrific answer. The Mormons really related to it. Because as I noticed, there are no crosses in the church. Jason explained, “We worship the living God, not the dead one.” “So do we!” said I.
Rabbi Hirschfield was a brilliant man and a great teacher. I’m not surprised that you knew him.