The recently published biography of Madison Rabbi Manfred E. Swarsensky relates that his health was visibly declining during his final years. Nevertheless, during that time two women who hadn’t seen him in a while told him that he “looked like a million dollars.”
And the rabbi replied, “I feel like a million dollars — after taxes.”
According to the book’s author, Marvin Zolot, M.D., that response was characteristic of Swarsensky’s “sly sense of humor.” But that alone would not be reason enough to write a biography of this man.
In fact, Swarsensky (1906-1981) may have had the most dramatic life and career of any Wisconsin rabbi. Moreover, as Zolot points out, Swarsensky’s influence is still being felt in Madison more than 25 years after his death.
Zolot’s book, “Mensch: Biography and Writings of Manfred Eric Swarsensky” (Edgewood College Press), tells the story of the rabbi’s life and includes samples of the rabbi’s speeches and writings.
Dave Zweifel of Madison’s Capital Times wrote in a June 22 column that “Zolot’s book is a pleasure to read, especially for folks who lived here when the rabbi was at the height of his civic involvement and influence.”
Berlin to Madison
Swarsensky was born in Pomerania, a region once part of Germany, now in Poland. Apparently, he wanted to become a rabbi from the time he became a bar mitzvah.
He was trained and ordained at the famous Academy of the Science of Judaism in Berlin, which embodied German liberal Judaism; and he earned a doctorate at the University of Wurzburg.
His intellectual and oratorical gifts were such that almost as soon as he was ordained at age 26, Swarsensky was appointed to be one of the rabbis serving the Berlin community. However, a year later, Hitler and the Nazis took power in Germany.
According to Zolot, although Swarsensky knew that Gestapo spies would be listening to his sermons, the rabbi did not hesitate to denounce the Nazi regime. After the Nazi-orchestrated Kristallnacht riots of November 1938, Swarsensky was arrested.
He spent about six months in the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, an experience that likely undermined his health for the rest of his life. Upon release, he was able to come to the U.S. in 1939 because he had a brother already in the country.
He first worked in Chicago as an assistant rabbi, but during his six months there he was invited to speak in Madison. He became taken with the city, and agreed to become the founding rabbi of Temple Beth El, the Reform synagogue there.
He served that institution until he retired. He also helped in the founding of Congregation Emanu-El of Waukesha.
Although Swarsensky described himself as a shy man, dramatic incidents and struggles continued in his Madison career:
• Many Madison hospitals, law firms, and social clubs like the Madison Club were closed to Jews. Swarsensky helped in the battle to remove these restrictions.
• From the beginning of his career, Swarsensky was willing to officiate at intermarriages. For this, the Wisconsin Council of Rabbis in one of its earlier organizational incarnations expelled him from membership.
• During the anti-Vietnam War protests of the late 1960s and early 1970s, Swarsensky was a member of the “committee of 30” that tried to quell the violence of some of the demonstrations.
When protestors bombed the Army Mathematics Research Center in August 1970, they killed a graduate student. Although that student was not Jewish, Swarsensky was chosen to speak the eulogy at a memorial service that was nationally televised.
Physician to author
Zolot, an internist, was a congregant at Beth El for many years. In a telephone interview, he said, “I always appreciated [Swarsensky’s] sermons and talks.” Zolot’s children received their religious educations at the synagogue and Swarsensky presided over Zolot’s son’s bar mitzvah and wedding.
Zolot also was present when Swarsensky gave what Zolot called “his most famous speech” — his 1970 address to Beth El after Swarsensky returned from a visit to Berlin.
Though he had vowed never to return to Germany, Swarsensky went by official invitation to help mark the 25th anniversary of the reestablishment of the city’s Jewish community.
Nevertheless, Swarsensky said, “Ultimately, I went back to the scenes of my youth because this journey into the past is a living symbol of the indestructibility of Judaism and the Jewish people.”
It was with these memories that Zolot, after he and his wife spent a short time in Florida after his retirement, returned to the Madison area.
He decided to become reacquainted with the community and, as part of that project, he read Swasensky’s two books, “From Generation to Generation,” a history of Madison Jewry, and “Intimates and Ultimates,” an anthology of writings and speeches.
But Zolot was surprised to find no book about Swarsensky. And so he decided to write one.
Zolot said he interviewed some 40 individuals, Jewish and non-Jewish, including members of the rabbi’s surviving family. He also consulted papers at the Wisconsin Historical Society and the oral history interview Swarsensky made for the WHS project on Wisconsin Holocaust survivors.
In the course of that research, Zolot said he learned an enormous amount about German Jewry and the social and religious scene in Madison during Swarsensky’s time, as well as about the rabbi’s personal life.
“I am very grateful that I was able to learn about these things,” Zolot said.
And the book apparently is reviving memories of Swarsensky for people throughout the country. “I’ve heard from hundreds of people … who had a very positive experience of reading the book or experiences of the rabbi,” Zolot said.
Proceeds from the sale of the book will go to the Manfred Swarsensky Chair of Jewish Life and Thought at Edgewood College; Camp Shalom, the day camp run by the Jewish Federation of Madison; and the Larry Kohn Chair of Education at Temple Beth El.
The book may be purchased from online booksellers and in Madison bookstores; and may be obtained from the author for $19, which includes shipping and handling.
To order from the author, checks should be made out to The Swarsensky Project and sent to 5440 Caddis Bend, #416, Fitchburg, WI, 53711.
Formerly op-ed editor, Leon Cohen has written for The Chronicle for more than 25 years.
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