After his grandfather died in 1989, Steve Kahn watched Rabbi Martin Weiner of San Francisco’s Congregation Sherith Israel gently console the family.
Kahn, who was finishing his undergraduate degree at U.C. Santa Cruz at the time, thought then that if he ever became a rabbi, he would want to have Weiner’s spiritual and personal touch.
Now he has the chance to share his mentor’s pulpit. On Aug. 1, Kahn, 30, will become an associate rabbi at Sherith Israel
“Seeing how [Weiner] interacted with my family was a moment that moved me most forcefully” to become a rabbi, said Kahn, who is married and has a son.
“I thought then, ‘Wow, what a tremendous honor it is to be privileged to enter into people’s lives at such an intimate level.'”
A native of San Francisco and an alumnus of Camp Swig in Saratoga, Kahn was confirmed at Sherith Israel and served as president of the youth group.
Kahn is more than pleased to have the chance to return home. “It’s a fantasy job to be able to work with your mentor,” said Kahn, who will be moving here with his family.
“I’m delighted Rabbi Kahn will be returning,” said Weiner. “He has has a special gift in working with youth and religious school students.”
It was soon after his grandfather’s funeral that Kahn decided to enroll in Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, studying in New York, Los Angeles and Jerusalem. In 1995, he landed his first rabbinical job in Denver.
In April, he found himself in a position for which no mentorship could have prepared him.
Columbine High School was 10 miles from his synagogue.
Following the massacre that left 15 dead, the Reform rabbi found himself delivering the Shabbat sermon to a stunned congregation.
“No one wants to give a response to kids dying. My message was of love. This kind of hostility only happens when the environment has evil in it,” he said.
Kahn also railed against going on a witch hunt and blaming Hollywood, music or the gun industry for failing to teach proper values. Instead, he emphasized, the correct Jewish response is to assume some accountability for the tragic event.
“If we are creating a global community, we all have to take responsibility,” he said. “It’s not a Jewish response to say, ‘I’m not responsible.’ We have to think about what we are doing and not doing to create a safe and comfortable environment for every kid. Of course, it’s easier said than done.”
But such Jewish wisdom did little to calm the fears of kids at Kahn’s congregation.
In addition to the shootings, the confirmation class was depressed by the death of one of their own because of illness and the suicide of another earlier in the school year. Life seemed dark and impossible. Many cried week after week.
“I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be a teen when this is going on. I can’t imagine what it’s like to go to school a week after the shootings,” Kahn said.
He searched deeper to find consoling advice from Judaism. He also prepared his services to offer sanctuary, providing rest and the comfort of community.
“Even with death around you, life prevails,” he told the kids. “This last year was not typical, and at the same time it was very painful. The Jewish response is that we are obligated to choose life, to embrace life.”
For now, Kahn told the kids, that means just doing teen stuff: Go to Israel, go to camp, run around, play sports and just hang out. Have a summer.
“The kids are so processed out; they’ve had counseling at school, at their synagogue and elsewhere,” Kahn said. “You want kids to have some level of innocence, but these kids don’t have it. Their lives will be changed forever by what happened. It’s a perspective most teenagers don’t get until late in life.”
Kahn also spoke to the teens about healing. “This is going to take some time. They are not going to wake up tomorrow and say, ‘It’s great to be alive. Yea Jews!.’ Some days they will wake up and feel better, some days will be worse. I say that time doesn’t heal but healing takes time.”
Kahn said he, too, needs to take time to heal. Coming home to help lead services in front of his parents and grandparents at Sherith Israel will help, he said.
“Rabbis don’t come with an on-and-off switch — we don’t become desensitized. You can get heartbroken in this profession from these tragic instances. I think they have a sense of that in Denver.”