‘Rabbi’ is ready for the open road

When the five-letter word “RABBI” is on your license plate, you are expected to be a saint behind the wheel.

It’s like carrying around a stone tablet on your back bumper with a Ten Commandments of Driving.

No road rage. No rolling stops, speeding tickets or double parking at the grocery store. No texting, following too closely, improper lane changing, playing loud music, passing on a double line or forgetting to use your turn signals.

“People don’t honk at me, but they look,” said Rabbi Larry Schlesinger. “I have to be on my best behavior.“

This has been a two-state testimonial. He had the vanity plate “RABBI” when he lived in Montgomery, Alabama, and requested it when he moved to Macon 13 years ago. It had already been taken, but he kept asking until it became available.

There is now a postscript between the tail lights of his flamenco red Volvo S60.

On Thursday, Larry officially became the first “Rabbi Emeritus” at Temple Beth Israel in more than a generation. The synagogue will host a community-wide retirement reception tonight.

Larry is among the most well-respected community leaders in Macon. He’s genuine. He meets the gold standard. If the guy has any enemies, they are well-camouflaged.

Around town, folks call him “Rabbi,” mostly out of reverence but partly out of necessity.

“Schlesinger is a lot harder to pronounce,” he said, laughing.

Over the past 10 years, he has never lost an election (even surviving an agonizing recount) for city council/commissioner.

He is intelligent, dependable and capable. He’s not a career politician but rather a dedicated public servant who understands there’s a reason why we have two ears and only one mouth.

He ascribes to a Talmudic admonition: “Be yourself, but be your best self. Dare to be different and follow you own star. And don’t be afraid to be happy.”

Larry dares to be different. He chases his own constellation.

He plays guitar and sings in a band called Rabbi & Friends. They have performed at Bragg Jam. In a city known for its musical heritage, he could be considered the resident expert on the music of street poets Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen.

He also is a bit of an “Easy Rider,” minus the long hair and tattoos. In a few weeks, he will hop on his BMW motorcycle and ride to Chicago to meet with a group of bikers he doesn’t know. They will travel west on iconic Route 66 all the way to Los Angeles. Happy trails.

Larry and his wife, Darrie, live downtown on Park Place. (Yes, it’s the same name as a square on the Monopoly board.) The historic home was built in 1868, so it will be 150 years old next year. He can ride his bicycle to the synagogue on Cherry Street, although he utilizes an electric bike to help with all the hills.

In retirement, he looks forward to “doing all the things I want to do instead of all the things I have to do.” He recently audited two French courses at Mercer, and aspires to speak the language fluently when makes a return visit to our sister city in Macon, France. He purchased a small telescope and plans to pursue a lifelong interest in astronomy. Indeed, he will follow his own star.

Larry grew up in Washington, D.C., where his father, the late Norman Schlesinger, was a dentist. His mother, Miriam, is 93 years old. He visited her last weekend.

Spending his formative years in the nation’s capital provided the genesis for his political aspirations. Many of his classmates in Washington’s public schools were the children of diplomats and ambassadors. A fifth-grade friend’s father was a member of the Kennedy administration. When he was 13, Larry spent the summer of 1963 volunteering at the Democratic National Headquarters, stuffing envelopes for the LBJ presidential campaign. Four years later, he was doing it for candidate Hubert Humphrey.

He was a biology major at George Washington University, when he had a life-changing experience. As a 20-year-old student in the summer of 1971, he spent six weeks in Israel as part of a college study abroad program.

“It’s one thing to tell stories about King David. It’s another to stand at his tomb,” he said. “All of a sudden, these Biblical stories and figures I thought people were trying to ram down my throat when I was a kid became very real. As a Jewish person, I realized that was part of my history. It was a revelation to me.”

He studied to become a rabbi at Hebrew Union College Jewish Institute of Religion in New York City. He returned to Israel two years later, during the Yom Kippur War. He volunteered at the Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem, helping with injured soldiers. Some were paralyzed. Others had been hit by shrapnel or badly burned.

His ministry took him from New York City to Syracuse, Portsmouth, Virginia, Columbus, Richmond, Montgomery and finally Macon. The Schlesingers have lived in the South since 1987, so they have had 30 years to acclimate to Dixie living, to put down roots and warm their bones.

“Syracuse was seven of the coldest winters of my life,” he said. A dozen of the hottest summers have been a worthwhile trade-off.

Larry had only lived in Macon three years when he was encouraged to run for city council. In a short time, he already had made a difference. His love of animals prompted his early involvement in the opening of Macon’s Dog Park. He joined other ministers in forming a downtown clergy association, helping to bring a fractured community together and starting a citywide, inner-faith Thanksgiving service.

“Everybody kept saying we needed good people to run,” he said. “When the seat in my ward became vacant, I threw my hat in the ring. There is a tradition (at Temple Beth Israel) of rabbis being active in the community. The congregation encouraged me to run, even though I’m not sure anybody thought I would win.”

For sure, his heart is invested in this place, an eclectic town with its own charm. The “Rabbi” is now an emeritus, waiting to write the next chapter.

“Macon is a little funky,” he said. “Maybe that’s why I fit in here.”

This story was originally published June 2, 2017 at 5:35 PM with the headline "‘Rabbi’ is ready for the open road."