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Rabbis of LA | Rabbi Jonathan Bernhard: After 25 Years, Ready for New Stories

While nagging doubts may dog some people in his position, Rabbi Jonathan Jaffe Bernhard recognized the warning signs of burnout. 
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March 14, 2023
Rabbi Jonathan Bernhard

While nagging doubts may dog some people in his position, Rabbi Jonathan Jaffe Bernhard recognized the warning signs of burnout. 

He reacted with clarity and a sense of finality, declaring he was proceeding in a new direction. “There were lots of reasons” for stepping away, the Long Island native said. “More than anything else, though, I was done. Worn out. Empty. Or as one of my colleagues said, ‘Broken but not fallen apart.’” So, two years ago this spring, after 25 years at Adat Ari El in Valley Village — first as an assistant and then as senior rabbi, he resigned to concentrate on a quite different, non-traditional, pursuit.

He could have kept going, but it wouldn’t have been good for him or the congregation, he said.

Bernhard describes himself today with the seldom-used label of independent rabbi. Practically speaking, he appears successful and uncommonly happy pursuing his central passion: executive director of the Jewish Initiative for Animals.

“Animal welfare is a vital part of Jewish tradition, especially in terms of obligations.“

“Animal welfare is a vital part of Jewish tradition, especially in terms of obligations. When we figure it out and have that relationship in proper balance, it not only is us fulfilling our obligation toward the animals, but it helps us and helps the world we live in … We start with the presumption we have to get the right relationship with the other animals with whom we share this world,” Bernhard said.

He was 54 when he made this decision, presumably in his prime, but he noticed warning signs that it was time to travel a new path.

“My own level of energy and my ability to focus” were chief red signals. To be clear, he said that it was not the fault of the congregation. “I could feel the balance that was getting to a point, it was unhealthy for me. I, therefore, wasn’t healthy enough to lead the congregation.”

It wasn’t exactly a straight line from announcement to departure. 

“There was one moment when I already had announced that I asked myself, ‘Did I do the right thing? I don’t know what I am going to do next.’”

The answer emerged mere moments later when he walked across the Adat Ari El campus to the nursery school and storytelling time. “If telling stories to the kids was not the greatest joy I took, it certainly was up there,” he said.

“I was struggling to come up with stories to tell, to finding the joy and the energy that always had been there.”

Then thunder struck. Suddenly, “I was struggling to come up with stories to tell, to finding the joy and the energy that always had been there.”

Bernhard felt relieved afterward, a confirmation he had made the correct choice, to step away.

Was he concerned about generating income? Yes. 

How did he and Laurie, his wife of nearly 30 years and mother of their three sons, handle the looming crisis? The rabbi’s response sounded like a formula for a happy marriage. “I understood that with stepping away there would be a risk,” he said. “But Laurie and I talked it through. I came to the realization that in all likelihood, the position I took would be financially less than what I was making. But we were comfortable with that and simply worked through.

“We don’t see ourselves as big spenders, but we would figure it out.”

With his worries in the rear-view mirror, the Bernhards set a number — this is the minimum the rabbi had to earn to make them feel comfortable. They agreed to give it a trial year, see how it went. If it did not work, he said with a grin, he would figure something else. He didn’t have to.

His passion about animals was sparked in 1987, between his junior and senior years at Haverford College in Pennsylvania. Working in a chicken coop on a kibbutz, Bernhard noticed people had two different reactions. “Some really liked the chicken they ate, and attacked it with a certain voraciousness. And some of us were like, nope. I was in that group. That is when I started being a vegetarian.”

Speaking of life-changing decisions, he visited Simi Valley to experience the Brandeis-Bardin Summer Institute. That is where he met Laurie, a Los Angeles native. They were married in 1992. She encouraged his interest in the rabbinate, which led him to the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS).

In his last year at JTS, he began looking for potential pulpits. But not just anywhere.

“It seemed to me that being married to a pulpit rabbi could be tough,” said Bernhard. “I wanted my wife to have the most built-in support she could have,” which is why he narrowed his search to her hometown of Los Angeles.

The owner of a splendid sense of humor was asked if he always wanted to be a rabbi. “My parents are still trying to figure what went wrong,” he says with a grin. He grew up “in a very loving, wonderful, small family of secular middle-class Jews” with two older sisters. 

Then there was his mother’s response when her only son revealed that he was going to be a rabbi: “So this is how good Jewish boys rebel against their parents.”

Fast Takes with Rabbi Jonathan Bernhard

Jewish Journal: What is your favorite Jewish food?

Rabbi Bernhard: My wife’s challah.

JJ: What is your favorite pastime?

Rabbi Bernhard: Too many. Love reading, watching English Premier League soccer and my team Liverpool, and playing the ukulele.

JJ: Your favorite place to travel?

Rabbi Bernhard: Anywhere with my wife and family.

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