How My Secular Philosophy Professor Opened My Eyes to Torah: A Letter of Tribute and Thanks to Prof. Carl Cohen 

I was blessed to grow up in a home and community where Judaism was central and Jewish life was filled with joy and love. I was a committed young Jew who attended Jewish day school, but as a teen, I was also someone, who admittedly had not invested in his own spiritual and intellectual development in a serious way. In the fall of 1986, I entered the University of Michigan as a freshman. That fall changed my life forever. 

Much of the reason for that change was a course I was blessed to take with Professor Carl Cohen. His class opened up parts of me I didn't even know existed. I took every class I could with him. A knowledgeable and self -described secular Jew, he wrote my recommendations for rabbinical school and other graduate programs. He was a true friend, mentor and cheerleader. 

Carl, as he wanted his students to call him, sadly passed away a few days ago. I penned this letter to him. It is hopefully, at once, a tribute to what he taught me, and a lesson in finding spiritual answers in unexpected places and important messages in challenging times.

Dear Carl,

A number of years ago, I was at a student retreat with my high school students. The kids, lovingly, were impersonating their teachers. One twelfth grader said, “I am going to impersonate Rabbi Frank.” He stood up and began pacing with great energy and enthusiasm through the room, practically jumping up and down with passion for whatever subject he was pretending to teach. Everyone laughed; it was a great Rabbi Frank impersonation. I smiled, looked at my wife and whispered to her, “He is not only impersonating me; he is impersonating Carl Cohen.” Entering your classroom, every student knew that they would be treated to learning with a scholar who was passionate for his subject. You were so in love with ideas that you could not contain your excitement.

It’s been 37 years since I was first in your classroom as a college freshman. As you know, I went on to become a rabbi and school principal. I have been blessed with many amazing Torah teachers who have imparted to me the wisdom of the depth and breadth of our tradition. Yet, Carl, before I had a sophisticated language of Torah, it was you who taught me so many interpersonal, educational and pedagogical lessons. 

 Carl, before I ever really thought deeply about the description of God in Exodus as a God of “loving kindness” וְרַב־חֶ֥סֶד וֶאֱמֶֽת (Ex. 34:5), you opened me up to thinking about the connection between Godliness and goodness through the timeless wisdom of Euthyphro’s Dilemma. Before I really thought with sophistication about different political structures, you showed me through your writings and discussions how fascist and communist thought, while certainly potentially dangerous, could be not only attractive, but even beneficial and a possible way for society to thrive. It is a lesson we could all use now as we must work to understand the mindset of those with whom we disagree. 

Finally, you showed me the grace, beauty and science of logical thought. You not only did so through the formal academic language of logic, but you showed us how MasterMind could be an avenue for developing sophisticated logical acumen. 

Your classroom was not only a place of ideas. It was a place where caring and kindness thrived. At the beginning of every class for the first two weeks of the semester, you focused intently on learning our names. You walked up to each student, looked at your roll book, and then looked intently at their face to match each name with a person. I can still see you looking down at your roll book and then looking me in the eye and saying, “Aaron Frank?” When I would nod, you would smile and say, “Good morning, Aaron.” You did this with every student, each day. Through this simple, yet impactful routine, Carl, you were practicing Imitatio Dei, imitating God (which, by the way, is another term you taught me). In the Torah, God commands Moses to count the Children of Israel in a particular way to show that each one of them had value as an individual human being. In Psalms we read that God gives each star a name, to show that each has individual value (Ps.147:4). 

Carl, you took every argument seriously. You strove to present the positives and important values of each position, even ones you detested. Before I knew that in the Talmud, Hillel would quote his opponent Shammai’s opinions before stating his own, (Eruvin 13b) you modeled that in your classroom.

But at the same time, you were someone who had deeply held convictions and you were unabashed about stating them. You spoke out for justice and civil liberties, fulfilling the religious call for righteousness, צֶ֥דֶק (Deut 16:20). When your beliefs about topics such as affirmative action went against the tide, you stayed strong, even at the cost of popular opinion. You did what you felt was right and did it with kindness and principle.

I will remember fondly the open door of your office, and your open ears, as we sat many times, you with your dog at your side, talking about ideas, big and small. You took everyone’s adult journey seriously and lived the idea articulated in the Talmud by R. Hanina (Taanit 7a), that we truly learn the most from our students.

Carl, you taught me so much Torah before I truly understood the Torah.

You taught me how to live, how to learn and how to teach.

Your legendary spirit and your intellectual and ethical lessons will always live in me.  They live in my office and in my classroom and in the schools in which I am blessed to work.

And of course, I will end this letter the way you ended each week of class, no matter if we were studying Marx, Machiavelli, Hegel or Hume. You would say with a smile and a wink, “Go Blue!”

With love and eternal appreciation, 

Aaron 

University of Michigan, LSA, RC Class of 90  

Head of School, Kinneret Day School, Bronx, NY   

Incoming Principal, Ramaz Upper School, NY, NY

To learn more about Carl’s life, click here.  All of the links in the letter are to Carl’s works. Below is a photo of the two of us in 2018 when my son and I had the honor and pleasure of visiting him at his home in Ann Arbor. I feel blessed to have had that opportunity to spend time with him and to thank him in person for the impact he had on my life.