Rabbi Moshe Nourollah sees the hand of God everywhere, believing that “HaShem controls everything, and we are just a puppet on a string.” The Persian rabbi tells his community, the Bait Aaron Outreach Center on the corner of 3rd Street and La Peer Drive, that a central message of the Hamas war is that the emunah (faith) of Jews must be strengthened. He then makes a crucial distinction. “What happened on Oct. 7 was very painful to us,” he emphasized. “We can’t say ‘them.’ It was meant for all of us.” 

Rabbi Nourollah, who emigrated from his native Iran in in 1978, seems to understand what triggered hostilities. He believes the latest war proves that God was trying to find a way to make achdut (solidarity), to bring all Jews together. “It is unfortunate that it happened,” he said, “but it has created achdut among Jews of the world. It is important to realize HaShem wanted us to be together.” 

The Rabbi urged his community to reach for their wallets to help their brethren in Israel. It is rarely if ever mentioned, he said, that “Israeli families are hurting financially. The soldiers had to give up their jobs to join the IDF – that has taken a big toll on the people in Eretz Israel. The country’s economy is not the best it can be. We need to donate more and more.” Each day, the rabbi reminds his members “to pray that God gives us the sechel (knowledge) to do the right thing, and constantly pray that the Israeli government should make the right decisions.” His final wartime request is “that HaShem takes away this hatred against us.”

The Israel-Hamas war takes the rabbi back 45 years to the day that 18-year-old Moshe Nourollah decided the Islamic revolution against the Shah was enough. In search of peace, he would emigrate to America. With his parents’ blessing, Nourollah would make the trip solo. “I was not escaping,” he said. “I was leaving legally.” He left in January 1979, two weeks before the Shah left Iran. Nourollah’s unlikely American destination was Oklahoma City, where two friends from Iran were living. 

He needed little time to conclude “there was nothing Jewish about this town.” As Nourollah’s friends drove him from the airport, things got more complicated: “They were living with a non-Jewish woman and they were eating non-kosher food.” His pals, sympathetic to Moshe’s situation, drove an hour from Oklahoma City to find kosher food. “They bought me something called hot dog. I said ‘what is that?’”

Other problems lay ahead. Stressed by the living arrangements, Nourollah made an announcement on the way back home: “This is not working out.” 

When the future rabbi was away from his temporary living partners, he remembered what he was told before he emigrated. “My rabbi back in Iran had warned me: ‘You know, you are different from the two friends you are going with.’” His pals were nice, but they preferred their secularized American world. After checking back with his rabbi, Nourollah obtained the name and Baltimore address of one of the most revered yeshivas in America, Ner Yisroel. “A lot of rabbis in this town were ordained by Ner Yisroel,” Nourollah pointed out.

The years he spent learning in Baltimore were lastingly fruitful, not least because in 1984 he met and married his wife. They have raised six children, including five sons. “My boys are very active behind many organizations. They give a lot of tzedakah.” One son is a rabbi, and all are yeshiva graduates.

In 1995, Rabbi Nourollah, by now 35, moved his family from Baltimore to Los Angeles, where his brother was working. “I moved here to help people,” the rabbi said. “That was and is my passion.” But finding the right parnassah (livelihood) was difficult. 

“In the beginning, it took me awhile to find the right place,” Rabbi Nourollah said. He was working in kashrut after his brother gave him his job because he had other responsibilities and the rabbi “needed to pay my bills.”

Several jobs later, he made another life-changing decision: “To open my own synagogue.” It was logical to scout out the heavily Orthodox Pico-Robertson neighborhood. But in 1999, he ended up renting space at Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills, a hefty Shabbat walk from their Pico-Robertson home. “So I started Bait Aaron,” Rabbi Nourollah said, “and now we have been in this neighborhood for 24 years.”

For 14 years, the Persian minyan met at Temple Emanuel. The rabbi speaks highly of the Reform synagogue’s leaders, now-retired Rabbi Laura Geller, and her successor, Rabbi Jonathan Aaron. 

For 14 years, the Persian minyan met at Temple Emanuel. The rabbi speaks highly of the Reform synagogue’s leaders, now-retired Rabbi Laura Geller, and her successor, Rabbi Jonathan Aaron. When the Nourollah family found the present property at 3rd and La Peer, the rabbi’s sons informed him it was time for a change. “My kids said we need to rejuvenate the minyan, more younger guys,” the rabbi said. Nourollah “wanted to make sure we had a Mincha/Ma’ariv minyan and that we had a night Kollel where young men could come and study.” That is precisely how it has turned out. Singles and couples in their 20s and 30s will have plenty of company during the week at Bait Aaron, and mixed company on Shabbat when attendance reaches 200 to 300.

Surely Rabbi Nourollah, who recently turned 63, is one of few who can express the following declaration: “My life has turned out exactly the way I hoped it would. HaShem has been kind to me. He gave me the right wife, the right kids.”

Fast Takes with Rabbi Nourollah

Jewish Journal: What is your favorite Jewish food?

Rabbi Nourollah: I like Persian food.

J.J.: Outside of Israel, what is the favorite place you have traveled?

Rabbi Nourollah: Possibly Cancun. But my goal is to study Torah.

J.J.:  What do you do on your day off?

Rabbi Nourollah: I don’t have a day off.