ABSTRACT

Being a rabbi means serving as a Symbolic Exemplar of the best that is in humankind. Being a walking, talking, living symbol is extraordinarily difficult. Though a component of the rabbinate that provides a major source of efficacy, influence, potency, and power, it has over the years been a drain on many rabbis. Initially seductive, and often denied by “new” rabbis who say things like, “I’m just going to be a regular guy/gal; I’m sure I can have good friends in the congregation; I’ll have them call me by my first name”; only to discover that their first name turns out to be “Rabbi.” Rabbis find as they move toward mid-career that their symbolic exemplarhood is at the root of their discontent. They complain about living in a “glass house,” loneliness in the midst of the crowd, always having to be “on,” and being treated differently than anyone else. Having picked one of the most public of callings, rabbis yearn for anonymity. Rabbis want to hold their husbands’ hands, and not have congregants offer, “Oh, what a cute couple they are; look at how they kiss each other.” They are relieved when going to the movies to find that no congregants are present. Yet no matter how hard rabbis try, there is no shaking off being Symbolic Exemplars. It clings to them, an irrevocable component of each rabbinate.