I want to thank the Labaton family, for giving me the chance to speak about our beloved Rabbi Labaton A”H. It is very difficult to speak about someone who I loved very much and learned a lot from.
Rabbi Labaton was a giant and our synagogue lost its crown.

“Your righteousness is an everlasting righteousness and Your Torah is truth. May Your mercies come upon me so that I may live, for Your Torah is my preoccupation” (Tehillim 119:77,142)

Rav Ezra zt”l, was the Ish Emet – the Truthful Man.  Whenever I spoke with him, or listened to him teach, or whenever I observed him in his interaction with family, friends, congregants or students, one thought was always inescapable: this is the Ish Emet – the Truthful Man.

For many years, I have been privileged to have an ongoing dialogue with Rabbi Labaton. This wonderful relationship made an everlasting impact on my perspective of the community and the world at large. A meeting with the Rabbi was always an experience dominated by his intellect, wit, and his expressive face that emanated love and compassion. He was a passionate man always ready to defend and fight for the principles he believed in.

 אתו ברא אלוקים בצלם בצלמו האדם את אלוקים ויברא

כז,א בראשית

All of what our Rabbi, Rabbi Ezra Labaton A”H taught and represented stems from this fundamental teaching: each and every person is godly; each and every person is unique and dignified; each and every person should be respected and each and every person’s thoughts and feelings need to be appreciated. The rest is commentary.

When I heard that Rabbi Labaton’s, a”h, condition had worsened, I was completely immobilized with feelings of sorrow and pain, love and regret.

I regret not calling the Rabbi with every question, not attending every class I could have, not living my life in a way that would make him completely proud, and not being a better friend throughout his illness.

Rabbi, it is no coincidence that you left us in the week of Parashat Vayigash. The word vayigash means to come close. In one of the most powerful episodes of Sefer Bereshit, Yosef tells his brothers, “Geshu nah elai,” and the pasuk continues, “Vayigashu.” Yosef asks his brothers to come close and be united; to forget the past. The most important thing in the world for him was for his family to be close. At the end of the parasha, the famine in Egypt is discussed, but in Goshen, the pasuk says, “Vayifru, vayirbu meod,” they were fruitful and multiplied. Only there, where the Jews were united, did they continue to thrive despite the difficulties the rest of the country was experiencing.

The Rabbis of the Jersey Shore Orthodox Rabbinate would like to convey our heartfelt condolences to Mrs. Emily Labaton and entire Labaton family on their tragic loss. Rabbi Labaton was a devoted husband, son, brother, father and grandfather.

This eighth day of Hanukkah is ordinarily one of happiness and intense light – when we kindle eight candles, we recite the full hallel and read about the multiple korbanot brought by the princes of Torah times.  But with the passing of Rabbi Labaton, our day has been darkened.  The light will never be the same.

Some of my favorite memories of Rabbi Labaton A”H were his Motzaei Shabbat classes dealing with issues regarding Science and Religion. When everyone else would bolt out of shul as soon as Shabbat ended, a few regulars such as Stanley, Charlie, Dr. Shamash, Yossi and myself would remain. As Charlie would prepare our teacher’s favorite green tea, I would look forward with the greatest anticipation to this series of special classes, commencing each Winter, when Shabbat ended earlier. Although, I must extend my apologies to the Labaton family for my selfish monopolization of the Rabbi’s time spent away from them, this sublime hour jump-started my entire week.

In the book of Shemuel (I. 25:29) Nabal’s wife Abigail gave King David a blessing that his soul should always be “bound with the souls of the living”.  Rabbi Ezra Labaton’s soul was always bound with those of the living – with his family, his students, his congregants, his community, his people, and the entire world.

My family had the privilege of being around and learning from Rabbi Ezra Labaton every summer for over 30 years. The Rabbi led by example, and his enthusiasm for life was contagious. In every conversation, speech or class I attended, Rabbi Labaton’s approach made learning Torah feel fun and exciting, stimulating to the mind and always relevant to our modern-day lives.

I visited Rabbi Labaton in the hospital the day he passed away, I attended his funeral, escorted him to Staten Island to be buried, and looked at his empty chair with his Talet draped on it in Shul on Shabbat. I attended his Arayat at the end of the Shivah, and still reality has not set in. For so many years, through all his operations and treatments, he never missed a beat. He never led on what he was going through, or let us think the end would come. He clearly put the welfare of his Kahal before himself in every way.