The condition he set for their getting married was that she join him in living an Orthodox Jewish life. At first, Rachel thought David’s demand unreasonable. Though she was nominally Jewish, how could she observe customs and perform rituals whose meaning she dimly understood? How could she know whether such observances resonated with her personality and values? And how could she accept a patriarchal tradition that gave secondary status to women?
At the same time, her feeling for David was deep—despite the fact that he was fifteen years her senior and less good-looking than any man she had previously been drawn to. She loved him because he was gentle, he was thoughtful, and he was eager to improve himself ethically and morally. “My philosophy of Judaism is very simple,” he said to her. “Lovingkindness is the highest wisdom.” And indeed Rachel knew no one who practiced lovingkindness as he did. Regularly, he made contributions to needy individuals in the community, always concealing his identity as giver. Regularly, he visited the sick in the Crown Heights, Brooklyn area where he lived, Jew and Gentile alike—mostly individuals whom he did not know. Compared to her first husband who, she believed, had never grown out of his adolescence, David was mature and substantial. He had built up a small computer company from scratch and lived in a modest but tidy house, all paid for. But mostly she admired him for his desire to add meaning and beauty to his life.
“I’d like you to know,...
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