Jerusalem, Israel - Oct. 22, 2025 - Eight years ago, I was invited to accompany a group of rabbis from the Federation of Synagogues of London on a retreat to the Irish countryside, in return for which I was to deliver a number of talks, the principal one being on the role of a communal rav. Though I am neither a rabbi nor the son of a rabbi, I did not panic.
I knew my friend Rabbi Moshe Hauer was then in Jerusalem and would be addressing a group of prospective rabbis on the lessons of his more than two decades in the rabbinate. And having stayed with the Hauers several years earlier while researching a biography of Rav Noach Weinberg, and having been a guest speaker in his shul on a number of occasions, I also knew that I could not find a better guide to the role of a rabbi.
At the Shabbos meal on that stay in his home, I asked Reb Moshe whether his contract made provision for a sabbatical. He answered simply, "I'm doing what I most want to do." As he explained to me on another occasion, "I love Torah, and I'm acutely aware of how Torah transformed me, and I want to share that experience with others."
And I saw how true that was. By 8:30 a.m. everyday weekday morning, he had already taught a Daf Yomi shiur to one group of balabatim, and an amud yomi to another. I also attended an morning chaburah on the Maharal's Tiferes Yisrael. He also gave a weekly chaburah in Pachad Yitzchok, as well as regular shiurim in Chumash and halachah. In addition, he led separate weekly middos vaadim for men and women based on Rav Shlomo Wolbe's Alei Shur. On my visits to Baltimore, I joined on a number of occasions a weekly discussion group he led for aspiring communal rabbanim in Ner Yisroel.
I managed to dig up the notes I took of our conversations prior to my Ireland jaunt, and they capture how deeply he thought about his role. He was by nature a private person, who possessed a gravitas that the more glib among us do not have. Yet he told me, a rabbi must be a growth-oriented person capable of bringing others along on his journey. In that context, he quoted the Klausenburger Rebbe: "My biggest sacrifice is that I must let others observe my private avodas Hashem."
William Daroff, the CEO of the Conference of Major Jewish Organizations, of which OU is a member, captured his gravitas: "When Rabbi Hauer spoke, everyone listened, and it was clear that he wasn't speaking to hear himself speak or to score political points or to check a box, but rather, when he spoke, it was because he had something meaningful to say.... [H]e would always bring a clarity and a calm strength to the conversations that he was engaged in."
Another piece of advice: Don't create congregational ADD by speaking of too many things. From Rosh Chodesh Elul, for instance, every sermon dealt with a single theme. But into every discussion of emunah, he always introduced some aspect of mitzvos bein adam l'chaveiro.
And finally there was a warning, which all who know his family will recognize how much he took to heart. "Too many don't know what it means to be a son, a husband, a father. The rav must model that. Too many children have been hurt by those who were always there for everyone else."
AT THE SHIVAH in Jerusalem on Motzaei Shabbos, Rabbi Hauer's youngest son, Reb Yehudah Leib, told me that he has been reading my biography of Rav Dessler, and that Rav Dessler was the subject of most of his conversations with his father over the past four months. In particular, Rabbi Hauer was taken by Rav Dessler's self-sacrifice during the war years, when he scarcely ever slept on a bed, but would travel by train at night, surrounded by British servicemen, as he collected the money for the fledgling Gateshead Kollel. Asked to explain why he drove himself as he did, Rav Dessler replied, "My brothers sleep on the ground."
It is easy to see why Rabbi Hauer identified as he did with Rav Dessler. In taking the post as executive director of the Orthodox Union, Reb Moshe knew he was sacrificing both his own learning and a job he loved. In a letter to Rabbi Zusia Waltner, one of the founding members of the Gateshead Kollel, Rabbi Dessler wrote that Chazal say that travel causes a person to lose his name, meaning one's spiritual level. Yet, he continued, there could be no greater privilege than to be found worthy of being the one to "mafkir his personal spiritual level for the sake of Heaven."
In that vein, Rabbi Hauer took the position at OU for the opportunity to positively influence the lives of tens of thousands of Jews and to represent Torah Jewry in halls of power with dignity, as had his great model, Rabbi Herman (Naftali) Neuberger.
In his hesped in Jerusalem, Rabbi Hauer's son Reb Shlomo quoted words of the Mesillas Yesharim (Chapter 19) that he and his siblings had heard many times from his father: "HaKadosh Baruch Hu only loves those who love Yisrael. And to the extent that a person increases his love for Yisrael, so will HaKadosh Baruch Hu increase His love for him. These are the true shepherds of Yisrael — those who give priority to the welfare of the Jewish People."
That was Reb Moshe. Our last meeting in person was on one of his many trips to Israel post-October 7. On that occasion, he met with dozens of parties in an effort to heal the rifts in Orthodox Jewry over the issue of army service for yeshivah bochurim.
His sudden and unexpected passing creates a massive hole in Klal Yisrael that obligates all of us to find within ourselves the love for other Jews that fired his passionate heart.
Yehi zichro baruch.
Yonoson Rosenblum served on the editorial board of Klal Perspectives along with Rabbi Hauer, Rav Ahron Lopiansky, Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein, and Moishe Bane.