To mark his 100th birthday, Joe Gitin is being feted with a big party. And another, and another, and another.
Gitin’s family and friends can’t express enough affection for the retired rabbi and former spiritual leader of Temple Emanu-El in San Jose. That explains the five separate celebrations. Not to mention the many framed commendations from politicians and potentates lining the wall of his study.
Gitin may have been born during the Roosevelt administration (Teddy, not Franklin), but he has lived a life on the cutting edge of social justice and progressive Judaism.
Upon his reaching the century mark on May 8, the community felt it was time to show the man some love.
Though Gitin has lived in Coventry Park, an assisted-living center in San Francisco, for seven years, he’s remained active. A recent fall and resulting broken hip put the rabbi in a wheelchair, but he says it’s only temporary.
Gitin can’t wait to get back to doing what he loves best.
“We’re supposed to do good to show our love for God,” says Gitin, expressing the creed that has guided his life. “The ethical becomes spiritual.”
He was born in Rochester, N.Y., the son of an Orthodox rabbi and descendant of a long line of rabbis and cantors. Though he naturally took to Judaism and Yiddishkeit, as he matured Gitin found he chafed under Orthodoxy.
“There were a lot of injunctions that restricted me from living a normal life,” he says. “It was ritual without meaning.”
As he found himself drawn to Reform Judaism, recalls Gitin, “My father said something beautiful. He said, ‘Son, you go your way, I’ll go mine and we’ll both be together with God.'”
He studied for the rabbinate at the Reform seminary in Cincinnati, supporting himself by selling beer at Reds games. After ordination in 1932, he landed his first post, at an Orthodox shul in Buffalo. “It was the Depression,” he says. “Reform rabbis couldn’t get a job.”
While there he met a young schoolteacher named Rosalie Carl. The two were soon married. “She was the sweetest, most caring and concerned person,” he says. “She loved people.”
For seven years Gitin served as a rabbi in Butte, Mont. (where winter temperatures occasionally dipped to 55 below zero). He was the only rabbi in the entire state.
“I traveled all over,” he recalls. “I had a wedding in Pocatello, Idaho, one day and I remember during the ceremony someone said they heard on the radio that Pearl Harbor was attacked.”
He headed Hillel centers in Chapel Hill, N.C., and at U.C. Berkeley before a short stint as rabbi for a Stockton congregation. Then, in 1950, he came to Temple Emanu-El in San Jose. That’s where Gitin flourished for the next quarter-century.
Beyond expanding the congregation from 150 to 5,000 members, among his proudest achievements was his tireless work for civil rights. Says Gitin, “I told the congregation, ‘If you’re not for equal housing, you don’t belong in this shul.'”
He was also one of the first local rabbis to support the gay and lesbian community, and to officiate at mixed marriages. His rationale: “We keep one instead of losing two.”
Gitin also served on the board of the Santa Clara County Heart Association, the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts of America and Good Samaritan Hospital. He was instrumental in the founding of Camp Swig and served as chaplain for the San Jose Fire Department.
Somehow, he and Rosalie also managed to raise two children, son David and daughter Judi. However, a life so long comes with its share of sorrows. In 1971, Gitin’s grandson died at the age of 5. Then, last year, Gitin’s beloved Rosalie died after 70 happy years together. “They were best friends,” says daughter Judi.
Gitin still reads several newspapers every day and follow his favorite team, the Giants. And as soon as he rehabilitates his hip and gets out of that wheelchair, Gitin can officially get going on the next hundred years.
“The underlying reason for my being a rabbi,” he says, “was having the opportunity to help people. The human aspects meant so much to me, to influence people to be good.”
Oh, and when asked the obligatory question about the secret to a long life, Gitin smiles and says, “A good sense of humor and kosher hot dogs.”