Mr. Banker.
It could just as well have been Mr. Chips or Mr. President.Or, if Mr. Banker were a female it could just as well have been Madame Curie. The point is clear: The respect that the person commanded was implicit, universal and obvious. This begins to explain the special place that Mr. Banker occupied in our community, and at the BMH in particular.
The twinkle in his eye, the soft touch in his davening, the sincerity in his every interaction, the effectiveness of his gentle pedagogy his ever present humor, his self-effacing manner warmed everyone who came in contact with him.
The Torah speaks of character, of middot, of menschlikeit, of G-d desiring the human being to shape himself, to elevate himself, to love others and to make himself beloved of others. That was Mr. Banker. The Torah speaks of humility and attentiveness to the needs and the feelings of others. That was Mr. Banker.
Mr. Banker had a very difficult time retiring because no one would let him. His mere appearance in the synagogue led all present to look to him to perform the duties he had always performed. It was not that his job prescribed his sacred duties, but that they befit him, they flowed from his person, his essence. For example, as a prayer leader, Mr. Banker was a person whom all people were comfortable with representing them before the Creator. That is not a status determined by an employer, not a status that one can shed by retiring. That is inherent to ones relationship with G-d and with all people.
Mr. Banker will be greatly missed by all the people whom he taught and inspired. And more: He will be missed by so many who do not even know what they could have become had they known him and witnessed his spirituality by all those who never had the chance to know him.
Mr. Banker leaves a void that no one can fill. He also leaves a memory and an image which all who were privileged to know him will retain. And for that, we are eternally grateful.
