He was one of the original baalei teshuva of the shul a quarter of a century ago. However, Herschel* had moved years ago to the “other side of town,” so our paths rarely crossed these days. Our formerly frequent discussions were replaced with the occasional nod at a weekday Mincha. I was, therefore, surprised when Herschel showed up one recent Shabbos morning. I informed the gabbai of Herschel’s presence, and he received maftir.

After davening, I approached him to assuage my curiosity about his reappearance. “Rabbi, I know you are wondering why I came here on this ‘random’ Shabbos. However, for me, this day is anything but random.”

I sat down to listen. “Rabbi, you know I am a baal teshuva. I was raised without any formal Jewish education. Eventually, I settled in East Rutherford with no Jewish affiliation.

In 1997, I joined the local EMS. I felt it was my civic duty to be involved in our local community’s affairs; this was my way of giving back to the community.”

“One Saturday morning, there was a car accident in Passaic—right near the shul on Van Houten Ave. As Passaic had no Hatzolah back then and all the surrounding communities received the call, I decided to respond. At this point in my life, I was under the impression that Jews went to shul only three days a year or for a bar mitzvah or funeral. Therefore, when I arrived on the scene, I was surprised to see Jews wearing yarmulkes exiting the synagogue.

Thankfully, the accident was nothing more than a fender-bender; therefore, my services were not required.”

With my curiosity awakened, I noticed a large crowd of Jews exiting the shul. I approached one of the congregants as they were leaving the shul. Mind you, rabbi, I never knew at that point in my life that Jews even had davening on a “regular” Shabbos!

I approached one of the men and asked him, “Is there a bar mitzvah today?” He replied, “No, there is no bar mitzvah today.” Becoming more confused, I innocently asked, “Is there a funeral?”

The yarmulke-wearing man looked at me, somewhat surprised, and said, “No, there is never a funeral on Shabbos (Shabbos was a term I was not even familiar with).” In exasperation, I asked, “If there is no bar mitzvah and no funeral, and I know it’s not the High Holidays, then why are you all wearing yarmulkes and going to shul on a regular Saturday?”

The man gave me a warm smile and directed me in your direction. “I think you should speak to our rabbi; he will help you.” Rabbi, I approached you, and surprisingly, you invited me to your house for lunch.

Well, that began my journey, and I, slowly, became a card-carrying member of the tribe.

For the first few months, I drove to shul. “You never questioned how I got to the shul or why I was there. You just accepted me as I was. Rabbi, you know the rest of the story as now my children are in yeshiva, and I could not be happier.”

I looked at Herschel and asked, “But what made you come today?”

“When I woke up today, I glanced at the calendar on the fridge. I realized today—November 9th—was the 8th of Cheshvan, parshas Lech Lecha. Today was 27 years to the day when I arrived at the shul. Rabbi, I always considered the 8th of Cheshvan, parshas Lech Lecha, my spiritual birthday.”

“What better way to celebrate the 27th spiritual anniversary of my discovery of Hashem on parshas Lech Lecha than for me to go: ‘Lech-Lecha’ back to the shul where it all began?

It was exactly 27 years ago today—on the 8th of Cheshvan—that Hashem told me, “Lech Lecha,” to Passaic, and, thankfully, I have never looked back.”

Rav Ron Yitzchok Eisenman is the rav of Congregation Ahavas Israel in Passaic.