Posted on 10/22/25
The Yom Tov season had just come to a close. We were still flying high from the inspiration of the holy days of tefillah, celebration, and simcha. The joy was amplified by the Hoshana Rabbah release of all the live hostages, which felt like a special gift to end Yom Tov on a high. I was in the midst of taking down my sukkah, feeling a touch of sadness that Yom Tov was already over, when I received the heartbreaking news: one of the most beautiful sukkahs in our community had been taken down. Harav Moshe Hauer, zt”l, was niftar. It was shocking and, at the same time, deeply symbolic. Life is beautiful and filled with holiness, but it is also temporary.
I remember when Rabbi Hauer first burst onto the Baltimore scene as the young Rav of Bnai Jacob. His youthful energy, brilliance, and warmth infused the shul and the wider community with new vitality. The eventual merger with Shaarei Zion brought together two kehillos into one vibrant makom Torah and tefillah, uniting young and old in a way that few shuls ever achieve. Rabbi Hauer’s articulate presence, his thoughtful leadership, and his natural warmth made everyone feel seen and valued. It didn’t matter who you were or where you came from; you knew that he cared.
My grandparents, Mr. & Mrs. Yehuda and Chana Friedman, were among those who experienced his kindness firsthand. After moving to Baltimore later in life, they joined BJSZ and quickly formed a close connection with Rabbi Hauer. My grandfather became a fixture at the early morning Daf Yomi and held immense respect and admiration for the far younger Rav. Rabbi Hauer would visit them regularly and treated them with genuine reverence as Holocaust survivors. He often reminded his mispallelim to cherish that generation, to appreciate the living link they represented to faith and perseverance.
Even after my grandmother’s passing, when my grandfather made aliyah at the age of 93, their relationship continued. My grandfather called in daily to listen to Rabbi Hauer’s Daf Yomi shiur, and whenever Rabbi Hauer traveled to Eretz Yisroel, no matter how packed his schedule, he would make time to visit. Those moments meant everything to my grandfather. They also captured the essence of who Rabbi Hauer was: a leader who never lost sight of the individual, who understood that greatness is measured not only in accomplishments but in relationships.
Over the years, Rabbi Hauer accomplished so much for the community and beyond, serving as a voice of clarity and inspiration for Klal Yisroel. Yet it was his personal touch that defined him most. His mispallelim, talmidim, and so many community members, each felt like they were his closest friend—and in truth, they were. A true leader makes every person feel like they matter most, and in turn, everyone felt that Rabbi Hauer was the most important person to them. That is why our community is grieving so deeply. We have not only lost a beloved Rav, but a beloved friend.
As I looked once more at the empty deck that once held my sukkah, I couldn’t help but think how fleeting yet beautiful life truly is. The Sukkah reminds us that even the most temporary dwelling can be filled with holiness, warmth, and joy. Rabbi Hauer’s Sukkah—his home, his shul, his community, his heart—was filled with all of these and more. Though it has been taken down, the light and inspiration that emanated from within it will continue to illuminate our community for years to come.
הרחמן הוא יקים לנו את סוכת דוד הנופלת
Wishing everyone a peaceful Shabbos