By Rikki (Bulka) Ash
Ktav Publishing House
New York, 2024
208 pages
Reviewed by Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin
How does one measure the impact of a rabbi? Is it by the size of his pulpit? Multiple career paths unfold early on for a young rabbi. Some rabbis start in small pulpits in out-of-town communities and then slowly work their way up to larger and more prominent pulpits in the big city. The less popular path is when the rabbi becomes deeply attached to his initial pulpit and chooses to remain in the small town for the duration of his career. He may have a smaller congregational platform, but that is compensated for by his forging indelible relationships with his beloved congregants and by his creating a deeper impact upon the larger community, something the “small fish” rabbi in the big city could never accomplish. Because the daily demands of a smaller synagogue are fewer, he is also able to engage in more “extracurricular activities,” such as writing, and pursuing higher education and social activism. At the same time, the small-town rabbi often has to make sacrifices in his own social life as well as in his family life, such as sending his children away to yeshivot when the local school options are more limited. I often contemplate, with some wistful nostalgia, how my own career as a pulpit rabbi would have turned out had I stuck it out with my first out-of-town pulpit.
One rabbi who serves as a shining example and inspiration of this path less trodden is Rabbi Reuven Bulka, z”l, who served as senior rabbi of Congregation Machzikei Hadas in Ottawa, Canada, for over fifty years. Upon his passing in 2021, he was lauded with tributes normally accorded to Canadian dignitaries and politicians. Everyone, from the prime minister of Canada to local politicians, news reporters and the Ottawa chief of police issued statements of condolence over the rabbi’s passing. His influence upon the larger society around him was truly profound. His “pulpit” was much larger than anyone would have imagined for an “out-of-town” rabbi.
In many ways, Rabbi Bulka was a “rabbi’s rabbi,” having written dozens of books that included various Torah subjects, such as commentaries on Pirkei Avot and the Haggadah. He was the author of the very popular Lifecycle Madrikh for rabbis, published by the RCA in 1995, and before he took ill, he was working as one of the editors of the new Hamadrikh released by the RCA last year. He also wrote several books on psychological topics for a more general readership.
Rabbi Bulka took the extra time that is afforded to the out-of-town rabbi to pursue a doctorate in psychology from the University of Ottawa. He was a true talmid muvhak, a premier student, of the late Dr. Viktor Frankl, who developed logotherapy, a form of psychological therapy that helps the patient find meaning and purpose in life. Frankl developed this discipline as a result of his experiences while interred in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. Informed by his own experience of personal tragedy, Rabbi Bulka authored books and articles on Frankl’s work, incorporating his ideas into a Torah framework.
Rabbi Bulka was deeply engaged in tikkun olam, which he defined as “Our responsibility . . . to inspire the world to acknowledge G-d, to embrace G-d, and to behave with the awe of G-d as the basis of all action,” and he achieved this goal by making his community and the world at large a better place. He worked with politicians, community leaders and other faith leaders to bring kindness and compassion to the larger society. Working with the United Way, he developed Kindness Week, a city-wide weeklong event to engage the minds and hearts of Ottawans with kindness and generosity. He wrote articles for the local newspaper and had a weekly radio show, through which his pulpit expanded to the entire city and beyond.
Everyone, from the prime minister of Canada to local politicians, news reporters and the Ottawa chief of police issued statements of condolence over the rabbi’s passing. . . . His “pulpit” was much larger than anyone would have imagined for an “out-of-town” rabbi.
I had the privilege of being a talmid chaver, a junior colleague and friend, of Rabbi Bulka. Although our paths crossed only periodically, I was always deeply impressed by the man’s humility, his often-self-effacing sense of humor and his deep sense of duty to Klal Yisrael. His commitment to his congregants and to the larger community were truly inspiring. This commitment was born of genuine ahavat habriyot, a love for one’s fellow man. Rabbi Bulka demonstrated this love in multiple arenas, but probably most prominently in the area of bikur cholim, visiting and attending to the sick. His accomplishments were recognized repeatedly through awards and medals presented by the city of Ottawa, the province of Ontario and the Canadian government. One such honor was the renaming of the park adjacent to Machzikei Hadas. Its new name: Rabbi Bulka Kindness Park. He was dubbed with the moniker “Canada’s Rabbi” by the political leaders of Ottawa.
Rabbi Bulka’s granddaughter, Rikki Ash, lovingly penned a tribute biography to her grandfather. In it, she captures the warmth, humor and modesty of a truly great man. The book contains chapters on Rabbi Bulka’s multifaceted career, covering his dedication to his congregation, his training as a psychologist, and his commitment to the Canadian armed forces, visiting the sick, and much more. Lest one think that this is merely a hagiography written by a family member, every chapter includes letters and dedications to Rabbi Bulka written by the members of his shul and the larger Ottawa community. This was a man who was clearly beloved by thousands of people whose lives were profoundly affected by him.
Several years ago, our shul dedicated a Shabbat to focus attention on the disabled in our community, and we hosted Rabbi Bulka to be our scholar-in-residence for that Shabbat because of his sensitivity and care.
One anecdote from Ash’s book that struck a particularly deep chord took place in Toronto. I don’t know for certain, but perhaps it transpired at my congregation, Beth Avraham Yoseph of Toronto Congregation (“the BAYT”), on that weekend.
It was a Shabbat at a shul in Toronto, and my grandfather was the scholar-in-residence. Bucky Prizant, a native of Ottawa and close family friend, noticed someone he knew having a long conversation with Rabbi Bulka. Following the conversation, Bucky asked how he knew Rabbi Bulka. “I didn’t,” the man replied. “This is actually my first time meeting him in person. A few years ago, my marriage was in a very bad place. Someone had recommended we call Rabbi Bulka, and he literally saved our marriage. Ever since, Rabbi Bulka has called us every week to check in on how we are doing. So I had to take this opportunity to finally meet him in person and thank him.”
Rabbi Bulka often inspires me to do more. His legacy demonstrates the extent of the impact one spiritual leader can have not only upon the Jewish community but upon an entire city and country. While Rabbi Bulka’s universalist outlook and approach to his pulpit may not resonate with every religious Jew, one cannot help but be awed by his level of productivity over his half-century of service.
This sense of awe is what lingers after reading Ash’s biography. My rabbinic colleagues and I, as well as every human being, can gain much wisdom by reading of this incredible man’s achievements, even if we only ask ourselves the question (from Tanna D’vei Eliyahu Rabbah 25), “When will my deeds reach the level of my forebears?”
May his memory be a blessing.
Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin is mara d’atra of Beth Avraham Yoseoh of Toronto Congregation.