Richard Joel has devoted virtually his entire professional career serving the Jewish community … directing Yeshiva University’s Torah Leadership Seminar programs … serving as the President of Hillel International… and leading Yeshiva University as its fourth president.

I had a chance to speak to him so he could reflect on his professional career and look back at the various challenges he faced.

Below is a transcript of our discussion:

Who were the earliest Jewish role models in your life — rabbis, teachers, family members — who shaped your understanding of what Jewish leadership should look like? 

From the beginning, my parents modeled celebrating life, showing Jewish pride, and showering love on me. My grandparents gave the reflection of the old world, and a model of simple, pure faith. As I grew, my synagogue leadership in Yonkers–Rabbi Nissen Shulman and Cantor Benjamin Gottlieb and their families–were close role models for me. I don’t think there was a specific focus on leadership; it was more about personal responsibility and mattering to others.

In my late teens, Dr Abraham Stern, director of the youth bureau of Yeshiva University, and his wife Malka, personified Jewish leadership and taught by example. Finally, my father-in-law, Irving Ribner, embodied so many traits of yashrus, living life as a servant of G-d.

You devoted your entire professional life to Jewish communal service. Was there a particular moment or influence that crystallized for you that this would not just be your job, but your life’s calling? 

Not yet. My wife Esther saw it before I did. We both wanted to matter by living our lives with purpose, but it centered around family and community. We were always involved in community and societal issues, but home was the core. I always had an interest in public service and wanted to “make it better.” I began my professional life as an assistant district attorney and as a youth director. And our involvement in YU youth programs was very meaningful. Another real influence was our involvement in the establishment of a chevra kadisha. But I never sought out a career in Jewish life.

During your presidency of Yeshiva University, you worked to elevate both its academic standing and its religious mission. How did you balance strengthening Torah values with advancing academic excellence, and what do you see as your most enduring contribution there? 

I see a YU education as a whole package: living in an inspired community, learning Torah, and through the lens of Torah, learning all of God’s other gifts, so that we can develop a nature of sheleimut, of wholeness, and to partner with G-d in continuing the work of creation.  The concept of Torah u’Madda, of synthesis, is the worldview I grew with and keep living with.  It’s the world of the Rav, of Rabbi Norman Lamm, of Rabbi Zevulun Charlop, and of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. In that context, it was natural to advance both aspects of YU synergistically. Its mission required excellence and nobility in Torah study, and deep quality in secular studies, with a focus on a harmonious life. The focus of this all must be the development of students with passion and integrity, a joy for life, and a joy in our destiny. The warmth of the environment was an essential ingredient in the mix. Our early initiatives in remote learning, the establishment of the Katz School, the strengthening of the Azrieli School of Education were also key elements in the school’s ability to flourish.

I don’t pretend to know about enduring contributions. I think I kept the faith of my predecessors, while helping to provide a sacred space that encouraged our students and faculty. I had the privilege to try to have an impact on this critical component of Jewish peoplehood. I steered the institution through the many challenges that universities faced at the turn of the century. I hope I set a tone of warmth and caring that will always be present in the institution and those it touched.

The creation of the Center for the Jewish Future was a bold institutional statement. What need did you see in the Modern Orthodox community that this center was meant to address? 

I’ve always believed that the mission of YU was to be both an institution and a movement; one that would spread our values, galvanize the various communities to be stronger, and lead a Jewish renaissance from a Torah perspective. YU has long been involved in informal education, in training rabbis and educators and in advancing Jewish learning. I didn’t invent that. I wanted to give it a strong institutional emphasis, and I wanted our students to see community leadership, lay and professional, as a life calling.

Through its array of great talent, we built and strengthened leadership training, emphasized rabbinic training and continuing learning and education, and organized student service missions to Jewish communities and other communities around the world. We created YU Torah, Kollel Yom Rishon, YU To Go, Yarchai Kallah, Community Shabbatonim, Shavuot programs with RIETS, ChampionsGate Lay Leaders Experiences, and numerous other initiatives, We brought to bear the prodigious talents of Rabbi Kenneth Brander, Rabbi JJ Schachter, Rabbi Ronald Schwartzberg, Rabbi Yaakov Glasser, Rabbi Josh Joseph, and many others. We spawned wonderful initiatives such as Efrat Sobolofsky’s YUConnects and Meira Davis’s Rebbetzins Yarchei Kalla.

There is more I’m neglecting to mention, but the emphasis was to create a consciousness of leadership among our students and beyond, and make the Jewish communities feel a part of it. I think it has had enduring influence, in many forms.

Universities and Jewish organizations inevitably face financial, ideological, and cultural challenges. Looking back, what leadership lessons did you learn during the most difficult moments of your tenure? 

There are so many. I teach classes on these lessons, but here are a few: God rules the world; we can play our part, but so much is in the hands of the Almighty. And that, ultimately, is comforting. We always must keep learning. And keep smiling. I’ve learned that people are kind, that goodness is its own reward. I’ve learned it’s not about you. Leadership is often lonely and relentless. You must believe in yourself, but rely on others, Also, the long view is necessary to advance a large institution, but don’t despair of your purpose. It is lonely, but you are not alone. For me, my wife and children are everything, and I’ve had the guidance and support of my klei kodesh and lay kodesh.

As President of Hillel International, you engaged Jewish students across North America. How did you see Jewish identity evolving on campus during your time, and what most concerned — and inspired — you? 

Dr. Lamm used to say that we must strive for unity, not uniformity. Certainly, the American Jewish community, at home and on campus, has been in no way uniform. And yet, we must be a united people to survive and to matter. For many decades, Hillel had been the address on campus for the nation’s Jewish college students. But by the 1980s, there seemed to be no unifying theme of identity to keep Jewish students involved. The twin evils of assimilation and ignorance, coupled with the false allure of college fashioning “homo Americanus,” led to great challenges to sustain a robust Jewish campus community. We were never meant to be another “religion” on campus. We are faith based, but we are a people, a civilization, a family. To forge identity in that environment required an assertive renaissance of Jewish life built on hope, not fear … on renaissance, not just remembrance … on creating our own E Pluribus Unum.

Antisemitism and anti-Zionism appeared to be at a low ebb at that time, but it was always a presence. The campus was a place for experimentation and the pushing of boundaries. Forging a Jewish community, on campus and beyond, required an embrace of pluralism that is defined as tolerance. I used to tell people, “I am prepared to honor your right to be wrong.” The mission statement of Hillel was crafted to address our approach for surviving and thriving. The goal of Hillel was to maximize the number of Jews doing Jewish with other Jews. Key to that was the term “doing Jewish”, not “doing Jewish things” or being Jewish,” but a Jewishness that required knowledge and experience.

Throughout your career, you’ve worked with young adults at formative stages of their lives. What do you believe are the most effective ways to cultivate committed Jewish leadership in the next generation? 

One size doesn’t fit all. To me the key is for them to see Judaism as a valuable part of their lives, even a defining part of their lives. The two key elements are what I call “knowing our story” and “owning our story.”  We can’t grow in an environment of ignorance, but education must be coupled with experience. I also don’t believe a thriving Jewishness can exist without an awareness of G-d and an environment of some boundaries.

You have operated at the intersection of Orthodox leadership and the broader Jewish communal landscape. How have you navigated tensions between particularism and inclusivity? 

I always try to be me, I am immersed in my identity as a Torah-observant Jew, but my parents taught me to love all Jews. I believe by living openly and modestly, and meeting people with goodwill, by and large, people will welcome you and hear what you have to say. Esther and I, and our family, have been privileged to live our lives engaged in “doing Jewish,” and I hope it has made a difference.  I know that is ingrained in our growing family. Our eldest grandchild is now studying at YU, and it gives me great pride, as they all do.

When you reflect on your legacy, do you measure success more by institutional achievements — buildings, programs, rankings — or by individual lives impacted? Is there a particular story that captures that for you?

My success together with Esther has been in raising six wonderful children. That’s not a throwaway line—it truly is my legacy. I never saw my legacy as “making it” but of “making it better.” The infrastructure of Jewish community certainly is necessary, but the pintele Yid is what matters–helping to build a global sacred chorus whose harmonies can help perfect the world, through God’s wisdom and God’s ways. To advance us as a covenantal people is what matters, and buildings alone cannot do that.

I have often retold a story I once heard about a boy standing on the shore after a storm has dumped thousands of starfish on the sands where they would die. And this lad was walking along, would pick up a starfish, and throw it back into the ocean. A person approached and asked what he was doing. The child responded that he was throwing the starfish back into the water, so they could live. The observer said to him, “There are thousands lying on the sand–you can’t make a difference.” And the child bent down, threw a starfish into the water, and said “I made a difference to that one.”

For young people who aspire to careers in Jewish communal service today, what character traits, skills, or commitments are most essential? And what pitfalls should they be mindful of? 

Your people need you. You can have a life of joy and dignity, but you must remember that it’s not about you. Your life must matter, and you are not your job. You do need to try to be worthy of your job.  So be a learning Jew. Gain as much knowledge, sacred and secular, as you can. Look to role models. Micah’s advice is as true in this profession as it is in life: Do justly. Love mercy. And walk humbly with your God.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)