
During a recent lunch hour at de Toledo High School, Rabbi Tsafi Lev was remarking about how sharply the mood on campus has changed since Hamas attacked Israel on Oct. 7.
“It’s really been hectic,” he said — for reasons that are peculiar to de Toledo, since its 400 students hail from all streams of Judaism. “In a multi-denominational setting like this one, you want to make sure you are addressing all of the constituents.”
As rabbinic director of the school, the complex student body can complicate Lev’s daily tasks. “Everybody is monitoring what is happening in Israel,” he said. “There are people on this campus who have a lot of family in Israel, as I do. My parents moved back six years ago after 52 years in America. My sisters live there, and my son currently is learning in Israel.”
In contrast, Rabbi Lev said, “there are people who aren’t sure what their connection is to Israel. They don’t have family they could name in Israel. But they know that Israel is important.”
“We said prayers for Israel. We heard personal stories. We made the personal become communal. It was a shared human moment.”
On the Monday after Oct. 7, de Toledo brought the student body together. “We had families and students share personal stories of people they are worried about and where they were when the attacks began. Importantly, that gives multiple perspectives. We said prayers for Israel. We heard personal stories. We made the personal become communal. It was a shared human moment. Our tradition gave us the tools how to operate.”
Religious diversity of the student population notwithstanding, Rabbi Lev said a significant percentage of de Toledo’s faculty and students have family and friends in Israel. “The heartache and the concern cannot be ignored, and this affects the tenor of the classroom,” he added. “Our students have rallied to support family in Israel. The school has reached out to alumni in Israel and around the country. The school is doing everything to rally around the brokenhearted and making space to listen to witness each one’s grief and fear.”
What about the classroom? How is the pain and worry of the most affected students addressed? And how have students responded to the war? “We engage students,” Rabbi Lev said, “and we empower them. One of our important responsibilities is to give them a sense of purpose. So, without dictating what their personal responses should be, we have been giving them special assignments.” These kinds of assignments, he said, “help students gain a sense of understanding of different voices there.”
From his earliest memories, Tsafi Lev has known what it feels like to be different from the majority population. While he grew up in Southern California, both of his parents were born in Baghdad and grew up in Israel. “That definitely informs my rabbinate and my Jewish identity,” he said.
Most Jews in America identify with Ashkenazi practices, “which leaves me out. My Iraqi heritage and my Iraqi-informed culture are not part of the American Jewish norm. Sometimes you can feel you are not part of it.” On the bright side, he added, that can sometimes be an advantage.
In what situations does Rabbi Lev not feel comfortable? He offered what he called the most concrete example. “The No. 1 necessary identifier for Jews in America — when they say part of my Jewish identity is essential to have this component — is a connection to the Holocaust. My parents were not in Germany or Poland,” he said. “They were deeply affected by the Holocaust, but that is not what people mean. They emigrated from Baghdad in 1950 when all the Jews were expelled. They grew up in Israel.”
Born in the United States, he grew up in Redlands, California. His parents, who came to this country in 1968, founded a synagogue, Etz Hadar, that still is open..
Rabbi Lev grew up thinking Jewish was synonymous with Hebrew because “I grew up speaking Hebrew in our home – not the case for most of my American colleagues.”
In Lev’s school years, going to Israel every summer was a certainty. “Some kids went to summer camp,” he said. “I didn’t have that experience. I visited my grandparents in Ramat Gan, my uncles in Jerusalem and my aunt in Haifa. Jewish was synonymous with Israeli for me – not necessarily religious always. Here in America, Jewish always is associated with religion.”
Rabbi Lev is the national director of Rabbis Without Borders, comprised of rabbaim from across the spectrum, including nondenominational. “Rabbis Without Borders represents a truth about the Jewish people as opposed to any particular person who says this is the one way to do it,” he says. Borders rabbis “agree to work with each other on the ideas of Judaism, how they apply to our lives.”
De Toledo is an ideal setting for him.
“We have some Modern Orthodox families, never-go-to-synagogue families, just cultural Jews, Reform and Conservative,” Rabbi Lev said.
He also leads a synagogue, Temple Emanu El, Burbank. “Very unconventional,” he says. “Technically Conservative – I would say in name only. A functioning Jewish community. We let the tools of our tradition support the people.”
Fast Takes with Rabbi Lev
Jewish Journal: What Torah figure do you most admire?
Rabbi Lev: “Aaron. Not Moses, but his brother. By the time the rabbis are done with him, he is described as ‘he loves peace. He actively pursues peace.’ Something to aspire to.”
J.J. Most important book you have read?
Rabbi Lev: I am deeply moved and have memorized one book in rabbinics, chapters in “Pirkei Avot,” “Ethics of the Fathers.”
J.J.: What do you do on your day off?
Rabbi Lev: Walking on the beach with my wife, Cheryl, my love of 30 years, and on Sundays I ride motorcycles with my brother-in-law.

































