I was forced to turn down Rabbi Alvin Kass’s invitation to attend Tuesday morning’s annual meeting at police headquarters between the New York Police Department and members of the Jewish community to discuss security at synagogues in advance of Passover; I write this column first thing in the morning. But I did manage to visit him in his office the previous afternoon—less to discuss security than matters of the spirit.
Rabbis come in all shapes and sizes. But it’s probably safe to say that Rabbi Kass is the only one in the metropolitan area, or greater planet Earth for that matter, who attends to his flock in the uniform of a high-ranking police official. It boasts gold stars on its shoulders and lapel pins depicting the tablets of the Ten Commandments.
“I’m an assistant chief and the chief chaplain,” explained the rabbi, who marked his 46th year on the job a few weeks ago. He’s the longest-serving chaplain in the history of the NYPD and the first to achieve the rank of assistant chief.
I think all Jews would like to know, How many Jews are there in the NYPD?
“Approximately 4,000,” out of a force of 34,500, Rabbi Kass answered. “Close to 3,000 uniformed and 1,000 civilian.”
The rabbi said that enrollment among Jews in the NYPD is actually on the rise. He attributes that partially to the allure of a secure job with benefits in a troubled economy, but also to his assertion that the NYPD is sensitive to the obligations of observant Jews. “There’s been a tremendous influx of orthodox Jewish people, I’m proud to say,” he reported. “We make sure orthodox Jews have an opportunity to work in this department and not violate the Sabbath.”
He added: “In Israel, a Jewish officer can’t take off for the Sabbath.” Rabbi Kass admitted that has something to do with Israel being a Jewish state. “If everybody took off for the Sabbath, there’d be no police force.”
Rabbi Kass said his family’s Seder this year will be smaller than usual because his wife, Miriam, isn’t well. But in past years the crowd breaking matzoth and sipping kosher wine at his home has included Police Commissioner Ray Kelly.
“Commissioner Kelly has been to many of my Seders,” Rabbi Kass said.
I had a hard time imaging the no-nonsense police commissioner festively singing along to “Dayenu,” but Rabbi Kass said he does.
And what about the allegory of “Chad Gadya” (“One little goat… that my father bought for two zuzim”), where it’s customary to circle the table, each guest reading a verse that builds on the proceeding one? Does Mr. Kelly participate in that, too?
“Absolutely,” the rabbi said.