Rabbi Howard (Henoch Dov) Hoffman had no classroom, but taught Torah to countless people. He was not a chasidic rebbe, but he had chasidic disciples.
He did not equate nature with G-d, but found the strength and mystery of G-d in nature and taught people to find the strength and mystery in themselves by taking on nature’s challenges.
He had an Ivy League education, but created his own style of therapy. He was not known for musical expertise, but tunes (niggunim) were sung in his shul in a way that stirred the soul to its very depths.
He lived a life based on Jewish law but was spirited by Jewish mysticism. He lived by the Zohar but studied Talmud for hours before heading off to his day.
Rabbi Howard Hoffman was an original. An autonomous actor — who gave his students autonomy. An independent thinker — who valued others’ independence.
A teacher of Jewish kids — who also taught in the inner city and in prisons. A Denver native by birth and by choice — who taught Torah around the world.
His lifelong friend Bruce Heitler observed, “Like Biblical Abraham, Howard’s doors were open on all sides. . . . his late night conversations with a janitor [at Dartmouth] who had unexpected wisdom left a strong impression.”
This seeker after nature loved to find it in Judaism, such as on late night visits to Lollipop Lake on the seventh night of Passover to recall, as much as the senses allowed, the miraculous crossing of the Reed Sea.
As much as Howard Hoffman was an original, he was a faithful son, participating in his mother Lillian Hoffman’s countless demonstrations for freedom for Soviet Jewry, and admiring his father Harry Hoffman’s drive in building the largest discount liquor store in the US.
Howard Hoffman was born in Denver in 1947, when the traditional Jewish community here was beginning to melt away. Howard Hoffman went against the tide. He created waves. They washed over many souls, nourishing their curiosity and leading them to their own paths of purity. Rabbi Hoffman originated his own climate of opinion, fit for his time, his place, his world.
He leaves behind family and disciples to reach into the Torah and out into the community each in their own way. In 1947, who would have thought?
© IJN 2025
