Unconventional Rabbi Yossi Saperman has gone all out for the high holidays
Yossi Saperman likes rap, muscle cars and the limelight. But he also likes making sure his congregation gets the succour it now so badly needs
Yossi Sapirman’s unlikely path to being one of Toronto’s most unconventional rabbis didn’t begin in New Jersey, where he was born into an ultra-orthodox family, but in Toronto’s Greektown, where he opened a bike shop. Nearly three decades later, he is rewriting the script again to meet the challenges of a pandemic, planning a high holidays broadcast Saturday that includes a Grammy-winning singer, multiple cameras and a dramatic drone entrance.
Sapirman, 52, is a fantastical blend of P.T. barnum and Tevye from Fiddler on the roof. He favours wearing black, with a long greying beard that evokes the director Orson Welles. He loves rap (and opera) and the speed rush of his 707 horsepower dodge Hellcat muscle car.
I first met rabbi yossi in 2014, while he was officiating at the bat mitzvah for the granddaughter of the late, legendary criminal lawyer eddie Greenspan. He blended the ancient traditions and scriptures with modernity and schmoozing, leaving the pulpit, wandering throughout the congregation, mingling.
Sapirman was one of nine children, in a family that claims lineage to rabbinical royalty, dating back over 500 years. He moved to Toronto in 1973 at the age of five. As he grew up, he was drawn to the rich traditions of Judaism, but its severity, and his father’s demands to maintain the rigidity of orthodoxy, tortured him.
At the age of 15, amidst enormous tension between father and son, Sapirman moved out and rented a basement apartment, earning money fixing appliances and later opening his own bike shop.
He immersed himself in Jewish studies at night, determined to discover a mix of antiquity with modern theology. If he couldn’t find it, he would invent it.
Clad in grease-covered overalls, Sapirman developed a reputation as the somewhat cool, go-to guy for spiritual advice, modern thinking and bike repairs. Although not yet ordained, he was invited to lead a small Jewish congregation in the back of a nearby Greek restaurant, assured that he could run the service his way.
His congregation ultimately found him too progressive and he left. Sapirman realized that without formal rabbinical credentials, he would never succeed in having his unconventional approach accepted, so he went to Israel to study.
He returned to Toronto in 1986 as an ordained rabbi. All he needed was a congregation. In the meantime, he tutored Jewish children, including preparing future actor daniel Levy for his bar mitzvah.
Sapirman’s first prime time gig was as a rabbi for an orthodox synagogue in Peterborough, Ont. but the older congregants again resisted a modern style that included women playing a role and actually touching the Holy Scriptures. A short time later, when a fading synagogue with a dwindling congregation in North Toronto asked to meet with him, he pitched hard, telling them he was their messiah.
Facing a dire situation that included diminishing revenue and very few alternative candidates, the beth Torah elders rolled the dice. He immediately modernized the service, engaged younger audiences with diverse programming and high-profile speakers, added live music — like inviting the Toronto Symphony to play during the high holidays. He involved women in all the rituals, creating a highly immersive experience. Suddenly, this messiah was a superstar.
The temple grew from 100 families to 500, along with a waiting list. Some felt he had gone too far, but there was no disputing his success. Sapirman drew crowds that rewarded him with significant donations to fund a massive renovation to fit his growing flock.
The result was a brightly lit modern sanctuary that matched his personality, complete with a thrust stage inspired by the Stratford Festival that allows him to engage dramatically with his congregation.
When COVID-19 hit, he had already been experimenting with livestreaming. He had found the use of a single camera limiting and a convoluted distraction; he set to work on a new plan to prepare for the impending closure caused by the virus.
Fuelled by his determination that spirituality should not be experienced in isolation, he transformed his synagogue into a television studio with six Hd cameras and a black box studio to film and edit socially distanced interviews and learning sessions.
He hired an experienced technical crew to operate from within a safe, state-ofthe-art control booth and spent the past six months producing content and warming up for the main event: the high holidays.
So while concerts are cancelled and movie theatres are struggling, Sapirman has presold his high holidays broadcast to 95 per cent of his congregation and potentially his largest audience ever through a professionally produced stream.
He will have a mix of live and taped segments featuring custom soundtracks, large choirs filmed by multiple cameras, and a dramatic entrance to ensure congregants feel they are still entering the sanctuary.
Above all, he promises an earth-shaking live sermon to help congregants make sense of this agonizing moment. For yossi Sapirman, the show must go on.