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ב"ה

STRAIGHT DOWN THE LINE

Friday, 20 March, 2026 - 10:33 am

 In Tribute to my father, Menachem Mendel ben Yisroel, הכ׳מ

Dear Friends, 

“I consider it an honor to have you on my flight.” No flight attendant had ever said that to me before my flight from Melbourne to LA en route to FLL  on Thursday. But that’s because no flight attendant had ever asked me about my father until the one on my United flight, who casually asked me where I was from and where I was headed, which led to me telling her that I was coming from my father’s funeral, and sharing a little bit about my father with her. “I hope I can emulate him in some way,” she said. “You already have,” I said, by asking me about him and being genuinely interested in hearing about him!”  The “honor” of which she spoke was not my honor, but my father's. 

Being curious and genuinely interested in people was one of my father’s qualities. What does it take to be that way? To some extent, it can be chalked up to personality. Some people are naturally more interested in other people. But curiosity is not just about a personality type, it is a character trait that anyone can work on. 

Understanding the difference between personality and character is critical to our growth as human beings. Personality is our nature, character is our nurture. It’s easy to hear about great people and say, well, I’m just not that type, I’m a different type of personality - it’s not in my nature to be that way. I am who I am - take me or leave me. 

Not so, when it comes to character. Anyone can build a character trait. You just have to want to. And at the end of the day, that’s how people will remember you. These are the stories that people will tell about you. Sure, personality is part of your persona, and talent is part of your tool box, but that’s not where virtue lies. Virtue lies in the choices we make, specifically the type of choices that take us beyond ourselves. 

In his sermon on Shabbos at the Yeshiva Shul in Melbourne where my father prayed daily since the day it was built over 60 years ago, Rabbi Zirkind who is the new Rabbi of the community, shared the following story: A few years ago before he took up the position as community Rabbi he was invited to spend the High Holiday season in Melbourne with the community and was asked to lead the Musaf service on Rosh Hashanah. He was hesitant to do so, because he knew that the community was accustomed to the way his late grandfather, Rabbi Yitzchok Groner who served as Rabbi for over 50 years, led the service with a very distinct and unique “nusach” - melodic style, and for the community that Nusach/style was sacrosanct. 

Despite being Rabbi Groner’s grandson, he had a style of his own, hence the hesitancy. But the community insisted that he lead the service, so he did, his own way. After the service was over my father came over to him and said: “it was different to what we are used to, but that’s ok, we’ll get used to the way you daven your way.” Those words were just the relief and validation that he needed. “Mr. New was a master at making space for others” concluded Rabbi Zirkind. 

In many ways, I think this story gets to the core of the hundreds of stories we heard throughout the week of Shiva. The core of humility, wholesomeness,  genuineness, uprightness, kindness, sensitivity, generosity, curiosity, care, activism, engagement, commitment - all virtues my father had, is the ability to make space for others. That’s not a personality trait, that’s a character trait. It’s a deep seated conviction and choice to carve out space within oneself for another. And it’s not a one off, it’s day by day, minute by minute. Do I stay in my own exclusive space, or do I carve out space for another, be it for G-d or my fellow man? 

In Chassidic language, it’s called “bittul,” yielding inner space to a calling.  Only a Tzadik lives consistently in that space; for the rest of us it’s a challenge. But if I confuse personality and character, I may not even challenge myself, hiding behind the facade of personality. Like this guy who once said to me: “you know me, I’m a ‘straight up guy,’ I say like I see it, no filters.” That’s a classic case of the confusion between personality and character. Perhaps you have a more “unfiltered” kind of personality, but are you now off the hook for saying whatever you want to say in whatever way you want to say it? This is where character building kicks in - reigning in my unfiltered personality to one of more refined character. 

This is the gauntlet being put before me, as I begin to process some of what I have heard about my father this past week of Shiva in addition to what I already knew. I share this because I think he challenges us all to work on our character and to be better, fuller versions of ourselves. And because he was a very down-to-earth, normal person, not a saint whose piety seems unattainable. He leaves a legacy of character that is very relatable, emulatable, possible, attainable, maybe not in its totality, but certainly in doses: daily, hourly, minute by minute. 

Let me break that down. 

 

Daily/Hourly

How I treat a day is a choice. Am I going to chill it or fill it?  

My father’s days were full days. He was very accountable to time. He was always punctual and purposeful. His day, when I was growing up, was very regimented:  He began with exercising and stretching his back. Morning minyan, breakfast, off to work before eight. He came home just before six for dinner and depending on the night, he either attended a Torah class, a meeting, went out fundraising or signed checks for the Yeshiva.  He was not a fan of TV (much as his kids were..). He just saw it as a waste of time. His news source was the daily papers, which he read over breakfast. 

Occasionally he’d watch some sports with us. After retirement, he was never idle, always productive. As much as he was always doing something  productive, it was not in a frenetic, stressful way, it was more of a showing up to every minute kind of way.  Which is why he was successful at balancing his family life, business career and community involvement. He showed up to each one fully present. 

Minute by Minute

Let’s define that as fleeting moments, temporary opportunities of engagement or interaction. 

Often I have a choice, I can notice you or pretend that I don’t. I can engage or ignore you. I’m not in the mood. I’m stressed. I don’t have one inch of space inside me for you. 

My father was very big on greeting people and even in the briefest of exchanges, displaying genuine interest. Many of the younger generation who came for Shiva, shared how they didn’t know him that well personally, but that didn’t stop him from greeting them and inquiring about them. He made people feel noticed, feel like they mattered. Small gestures. Big impacts. 

Reactionary or Proactive?

Most people will respond to a call to help to some degree.  My father’s generosity  was not just reactionary. Many shared stories of how he reached out to them with unsolicited help, because he could tell they needed it, either having heard something or seen something. Like the story we heard about a family who my father went to meet to discuss a tuition plan because they had fallen behind and noticed that one of the children was sleeping on the floor without a mattress. The next day a mattress and bedding were delivered to the home  

Bend it or go Straight Down the Line?

In business we can choose to take short cuts or go about things “straight down the line” which is a phrase my father would often say.  His impeccable ethical standards won the admiration of the business world, whether towards his fellow man or to G-d. A friend related at the Shiva a story he had heard from someone that did business with my father. They were negotiating a deal on fabric. My father started the negotiation at $70 a yard, knowing that the price would come down in the negotiation. The client offered $60. My father replied that the sale price will be $50 and explained that in his mind that was the price he was prepared to sell for and he wasn’t going to take the higher offer. From that point on his client said, no need to negotiate deals in the future. Whatever price you ask, you get. 

A relative related how he consulted with my father as to whether he should use a Halachically acceptable mechanism to keep his retail store open on the Jewish Holidays by selling it to a non-Jew for the days of the Holiday. My father, who related to us many times over the years how non-Jewish clients respected him for closing his business on Jewish holidays, recommended to the relative that he should not do it and close the store. He didn’t listen. A short while later, his biggest customer who accounted for 20% of his business, suddenly took his business elsewhere. His lease was up for renewal  and the landlord tripled the rent making it impossible for him to continue at that location. He leased a new space and decided that he would not remain open on the Holidays. Shortly thereafter the client who had suddenly taken their business elsewhere reached out and renewed their business relationship. It wasn’t hard for my relative to connect the dots. Whether with clients or G-d, best to do things “straight down the line”.  

That's the Mendel New way.

This week we read the Torah portion of Vayikra which is dominated by the subject of Sacrifices/Korbonos. The word “Korbon” comes from karov—to come close.

But how does one come close to Hashem?

By offering something of oneself. By stepping aside. By yielding space.

Every korban is, in essence, a declaration:

“I am not the center. I make room for something greater.”

I am walking straight down the line!

Interestingly, it is customary for heirs not to take the shoes of a deceased parent. There are several reasons for this, but perhaps there’s a message here.

As I heard all these stories about my father with the occasional “you’ve got big shoes to fill,” I kept thinking there’s no way I can fill those shoes. But I don’t think that that’s what I or anyone ought to strive for. It’s not about filling the shoes; it’s about walking the straight line he paved, one step at a time, one moment at a time, one choice at a time. 

I told my children and some of my nieces and nephews, if you are ever in doubt as to what the right thing to do is, ask yourself, what would Zeide Mendel do in this situation and you will never go wrong. You will always be walking straight down the line.

Good Shabbos and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ruvi New

Misty morning trail on worn road.png

 

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