For 35 years, Rabbi David Woznica has appeared on stages teaching about and interviewing some of the giants of Jewish life. But it started from a more modest place.
In 1978, Woznica joined the Brandeis Camp Institute (BCI) in Simi Valley and served on the BCI staff the next year; six months later his phone rang. He had caught the eye of Dennis Prager. Prager asked if Woznica could come to his office. When he got there, Prager asked “Why don’t you work with me? I am looking for an assistant.” In his early 20s, in graduate school, he thought this would be more interesting. That led to applying to rabbinical school, 11 years at the prestigious 92nd Street Y in New York, and 21 years as an associate rabbi at LA’s Stephen Wise Temple here. Rabbi Woznica is effusive in thanking others for his success at every step of his career. He typically begins by crediting his family, who introduced him to Judaism at Ada Ari El in Valley Village.
“I’ve thought about this a lot. My parents certainly created and shaped my Jewish soul,” says the rabbi. His mother Sue’s 98th birthday is nearing. His Polish-born father, Sam, a survivor of Bergen-Belsen, passed away 15 years ago. “He was liberated in 1945,” said his eldest child. “He didn’t speak about it much.” He felt the weight of it at his ordination in 1990 at Temple Emanuel in New York.
At ordinations “they often call the names of family members no longer living. I remember because my Dad’s parents were murdered and so were four of his five siblings. He was one of two who survived. I remember the names being read off — all of the Woznicas who, of course, I never met.
“I could not stop crying. There are tears of joy, but these tears were for all of them – and what they might be thinking while watching from above, since I believe there is an afterlife.” Without doubt, he concluded, “my parents really shaped a beautiful Jewish soul.” From his time at BCI, Woznica looks toward Prager and Joseph Telushkin, Prager’s lifelong friend. Both men, he said “had tremendous influence on me. We had so many scholars, so many teachers (at BCI) that it really gave me an outlook on Judaism” for the first time. No one who has ever heard Woznica speak – whether at Wise, the 92nd Street Y or when he guested at shuls across the country, Canada and South America – ever has doubted that.
“I had never really thought of Judaism,” he said. “I am ashamed to say this — but I never really thought of Judaism as an ethical system. I had thought – all too often – what do I want from God? I have a deep belief in God. I know I am blessed to have that.” Working with Prager and Telushkin “was the first time I heard someone say, ‘Don’t only ask what you want from God. A more important question is: What does God want from you?'”
“The minute you ask,” Woznica said, “to me, the answer is the Torah, which offers a blueprint for life. And this did influence my decision to go into the rabbinate even though I wasn’t sure if I was worthy of it — or if it was the right thing. This doesn’t mean my belief isn’t challenged because it is,” he said. Regularly.”
Although they loved New York, the rabbi and his wife, Beverly, are both LA natives, and worried about raising their two sons far from their family. He went to a very special person for advice. As the rabbi explained it, he had “the privilege of becoming close” with Elie Wiesel. “I did several public dialogues with Prof. Wiesel – five in New York and two here in LA. I consulted him about our decision. I had a relationship with him where he and I could speak.”
The rabbi and Wiesel met at Wiesel’s Upper East Side apartment. “He said, ‘How can you leave when you have such a great life here?” the rabbi recalled. When Woznica mentioned being closer to his and his wife’s families for the boys’ sake, Wiesel “looked at me with tears in his eyes. ‘Now I understand,’ he said. ‘You should go.’”
Sometimes you have to do what is most practical, Woznica said. “There is tremendous opportunity we have in this generation and future generations. Often, this involves leaving cities where our families are, sometimes for awhile, sometimes longer. I applaud people who do that. But there often is a price paid, and the price is the people in your life to whom you are closest may not be part of your daily life. For me, my family, and, frankly, my friends, are far more important than the city I live in.
“I love Los Angeles. For me, it is the [Stephen Wise] synagogue, the people around me, and my Shabbat table, since I have a group of friends I am with regularly. Stephen Wise is my first and undoubtedly only pulpit.”
Rabbi Woznica concludes his love story warmly. “With great love and respect for all of the wonderful congregations in Los Angeles, I fell in love with this temple’s activity, the tumult, the Zionism, the fact there are different perspectives rabbis have here as well. We are aligned on many things, not on others. As a result, we have a very wide tent within parameters.”
The rabbi could be said to be a one-man wide tent: He grew up in a Conservative community, makes his living at one of the country’s largest Reform congregations and talks to congregants about lessons from the Chabad Rebbe.
“I have come to appreciate differing views — within parameters. If you love tradition, you can find a home here. If you love innovation, you also can find a home here.”
