He is a young American Rabbi with a big smile and an open heart.
He’s the type of Rabbi who really looks like a Rabbi. Easily identifiable to most of us.
This man is a Chasidic Rabbi, some say ultra-orthodox. He has a long beard and wears either a black hat or a small, round head covering called a yarmulke. He is always dressed in a white dress shirt, black suit, and black shoes.
Rabbi Weiss recently traveled to London with his family. They took Ubers everywhere they went.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that Uber drivers tend to be immigrants. Europe opened its doors to millions of Arab refugees from the Middle East. Many families are escaping war and persecution, and many have settled in London.
Rabbi Weiss could confirm that out of 10 Uber drivers he met, 10 were Muslim men. How did he know that? He asked them.
Each time he got in the car, he had a set routine. Friendly hello to the driver, and the first question.
Rabbi: I’m from California. Where are you from?
Driver: Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Turkey, etc.
The next line of questioning went a little deeper.
Rabbi: Are you religious?
The answer was always the same.
Driver: I’m a Muslim, I pray 5 times a day.
Rabbi: WOW! 5 times a day! I pray 3 times a day, and I thought that was a lot of prayer. How do you manage working, finding the time, and finding a place to pray each day?
Driver: It’s a priority, not a problem. There’s no shortage of places to pray; there are 1500 mosques in London.
Rabbi: I am a Jewish prayer leader, I’m called a Rabbi, which means teacher.
Driver: You’re a Jew? I have never met a Jew before. (surprised voice) You seem like a very nice person.
And from the back of the car, with curiosity, courtesy, and kindness, two cultural enemies exchange pleasantries, leaving each one more informed and less hateful from a simple conversation.
This exercise in civility was repeated over and over again, riding in the back of an Uber on the streets of a foreign city. Rabbi Weiss learned and hopefully taught not to presume that the person who doesn’t believe like you can’t be just as nice as you.
By Susan Diamond
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