The news arrived on Parashat Vayechi, of the deaths of Jacob and Joseph, their final words and reminiscences.  Jacob implores Joseph to bury his father with his ancestors, and requests hesed ve'emet-that same act of kindness which marked the life of Rabbi Dr. Michael Signer.  Could there be a time more fitting for Michael to die and leave us all bereft than on that Shabbat? 

Many of us knew Michael through his Torah, his amazing teaching, his incredible memory which forgot more than we'll ever know.  We were his colleagues and friends and students at Hebrew Union College, we learned Rashi and so many other medieval commentators with him.  We might have argued with him in English or Hebrew or noch besser German or some language Michael knew far better than we did, but he knew best. We became friends and study companions with Rabbis long gone for centuries with Michael as our guide.   He made Rashi come off the page and into our souls. He introduced me to the Chariot of Ezekiel.  With his own coke-bottle glasses under that tussle of brown hair we were given new lenses with which to view the Torah and understand it.

I had the unique experience of sharing 11 of my 15 years in South Bend with Michael as my congregant—though he often corrected me and said he was my assistant Rabbi. Sure! How I remember trudging through the snows of Michiana to meet Michael for our weekly Torah study, or memories of Michael and Betty arriving at Temple Beth-El in South Bend to pray in such weather to honor Shabbat and the holidays. What were we California boys from Los Angeles and Temple Emanuel doing in the blizzards of  Indiana?  In graduate seminars at Notre Dame’s theology department his voluminous command of sources allowed PhD candidates and fellow professors to scribble away notes in Latin or Greek, so awed were they by his brilliance.  During all the years Betty and Michael celebrated the High Holy Days in South Bend Michael offered a noteless yet breathtaking dvar torah on Jonah. It was the spiritual highlight of our worship. His words opened the gates of prayer wide. I wish we had recorded every one. 

He explored other opportunities, thoughts about writing, discussed his travel and seminars, brainstormed programmatic ideas to link the Synagogue, the Jewish community, and Notre Dame.   He fumed vayihar apo when he received his medallion as the Abrams Professor of Jewish Thought and Culture, and felt that comments demeaning to the Jewish people and to the nature of the Christian Jewish dialogue had been spewed forth. He didn’t just write books about interfaith dialogue or study it from a distance: he lived and breathed Dabru Emet every day with every student and colleague, at every faculty committee or meeting, with every priest and minister and reverend and parishioner he met. A second Jewish chair in theology and the Holocaust Project at ND which he and Betty developed will be lasting legacies. His collection of books will become the Rabbi Michael A. Signer Library at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. 

Speaking of food, which was often for Michael, Betty watched Michael like a hawk for years. There wasn’t a time we were at a restaurant when Michael would not say, "I'd love to eat this, but Betty would kill me!" He violated the prohibition once at opening day of the Chicago Cubs, figuring the prohibition did not apply when he was out of state. Michael was that conscience in my ear about rearing my sons, advised me on how to handle two bnai mitzvah as a divorced dad, how to take the 'high road', led the minyan for my family when I lost both my parents, and spelled me on the bemah during Yom Kippur Yizkor when I broke down after those losses. But most significantly, when Doris Bergen, a German historian told Michael about her colleague soon to arrive at Indiana University South Bend, Margarete Myers, he listened really well, told Betty about the new single Jewish professor. Fortunately for me, Betty then asked Doris, "would she like our Rabbi?" The rest is history, and without Michael and Betty's mitzvah of matchmaking I don't know whether we would have met, married, or been so blessed to have our twin daughters.  What joy for Michael to take such pride in that noble act of hesed as our shadchan.

Notre Dame professor David Hachen, son and brother to rabbis, wrote: "Michael was an angel, figuratively and maybe even literally.  He dwelt among us so we could see how a person could be righteous, thirst for knowledge and wisdom, love Torah, and build bridges to the Other.  His love of words and the books that are filled with them was not just because they contained insights into both the divine and the human, but because through our interpretations of them-through Midrash-words provide us with a vehicle whereby we can learn about and see who we are, and reflect on what we aspire to be.  Though words and Torah were his life, his eyes saw the Beauty in the world and never seemed to fixate on just one thing. He could be quiet, meditative and full of prayer, or an animated teller of stories.  Michael was not a preacher, nor a judge.  As a Rabbi, a teacher, he knew that his students had to discover Truth and decide for themselves what is Good.  As an angel he created paths that people could take to go places that they did not know existed.   Now in his passing  Michael has taken one of those paths.  Though he is gone, the paths are still there."

And so we return on that path to Rashi, who teaches that the second book of the Torah Shemot, the story of the Exodus, begins by listing the names of the children of Israel, because Torah enumerates them while they were living, and again enumerates them when it tells of their deaths, showing how dear they were to God, and that they are compared to the stars which shine above.  So it is with Michael, who we must remember as he lived, who has illuminated so much of life and Torah and kindness to us as the stars have brightened the skies, and who was dear to God and to us all.

Zecher haver tzadik v'hacham livracha.

Rabbi Morley T. Feinstein
4 January 2009 18 Tevet 5770  
Pacific Association of Reform Rabbis     
Palm Springs, California

It's been a year and I'm still having a very hard time writing down my thoughts about Michael.  His loss, so unexpected and so quick and so total, was just so stunning that there was no way to get a handle on it.  It makes no sense that someone with such vitality and humanity can be here one day and gone the next.  What this meant to those closest to him, to his family, is beyond imagining, considering how much he meant to those of us who were privileged to know him as a close friend. 

Michael and I shared the Notre Dame experience, where our overlapping concerns—he with all matters Jewish and myself with the much smaller Israeli universe—would have brought us into close communication in any event.  But from the beginning our relationship assumed dimensions that went well beyond the academic sphere; Michael (and Betty) reached out and created intellectual and social circles that brought together Notre Dame and South Bend Jewish communities in a way that enriched both.  Michael was always reaching out and bringing people together; it's hard to recall the number of people that Gail and I first met through the Signers. 

What made Michael such a wonderful intellectual companion was his genuine and unfeigned interest in what everyone else was doing.  We all love talking about what we ourselves are doing, but Michael's intellectual curiosity extended to all those around him.  He was a wonderful listener who could inhabit your world so completely that you would find new angles and insights on your own concerns from his perspective.  Conversations with Michael were never ordinary; they were always exciting and exhilarating. 

Betty has asked us, on this occasion, to recall one memory of Michael that we particularly cherish.  There are so many to choose from that, once again, it's easy to become stymied.  But one that stands out is a week in Rome spent with Michael and Betty.  Gail and I had never been to Rome, while Michael's relationship with the city was of course longstanding and intimate.  But Michael helped us to see the city one layer at a time, in a process of gradual and natural acquaintance, with great sensitivity and respect for our neophyte limitations.  Even with sites that he must have visited innumerable times, Michael brought to the experience such a freshness and a vigor that that week remains one of the most memorable in all our travels.  There is nothing quite comparable to seeing the Arch of Titus, for the first time, in Michael's company.

He is and always will be deeply, deeply missed.  He leaves a hole in our lives. 

Violetta Reder
Assistant for Christian-Jewish relations
Interfaculty Institute of Ecumenism and Dialogue,
Pontifical Academy of Theology in Kraków

Michael has gone into his eternity and we cannot yet become aware of his absence. He remains the angel of hospitality he has always been for us. He welcomed us in his family, sharing with us his love for Betty and their daughters. He greeted us in his intimate faith, open-heartedly supporting our own believing hopes. With his enthusiastic humility, he instantly participated in any project that might unite us as believers. His dreams reflected the best of our dreams.with a vivid perceptiveness, a liberating sense of humor, and an intellectual honesty which transcends all circumstances, including death. Michael, we are close to you in truth and love.

Charles and Pamela Kannengiesser

Dearest Michael, z”l, leaves us much yet to discover in his words, let alone our memories. Each day offers another image to feast on, longingly. Today, this phrase comes to mind: Michael as a “philosopher of love between the words.” The phrase makes me smile for several reasons.

One smile is about what Michael always seemed to uncover “between the words.” I am one of many who often say, “I never met a finer reader than Michael.” We witnessed that for years in the “Society for Textual Reasoning,” a gathering of Jewish text scholars and philosophers that he nourished with his text commentaries; and in the small group that generated “Dabru Emet”; and more recently in a three-year gathering of Abrahamic scholars at the Center for Theological Inquiry. A delightful sight and experience to behold a bunch of Muslim, Christian and Jewish scholars leaning in toward Michael’s chair so as not to miss a word of what he was unraveling from this day’s medieval commentary and its text sources and parallels and contrasts. But he did not seem to notice how much we leaned on his textual learning and wisdom: either that or his humility simply swallowed up whatever he noticed.

Another smile is specifically about the “between.” An excellent reader, we might say, has much to teach us about the words. But a sage reader also lets us peer in at what to the rest of us seems pretty much hidden between them. Like his mentors Rashi and Rashbam, Michael’s reading added yet one more step: beyond the pastoral ingenuity of midrash, this was to uncover the deeper “plain sense” of the text within the literary corpus to which it belonged. A meeting place of wisdom and textual science: and a place of great hope if, in Michael’s fashion, we learn how to read not only in and between the words but also in and between strictly academic and strictly denominational or lived approaches to the text traditions.

Another smile is about the word “love.” I cannot think of Michael without thinking of love: the love between Betty and Michael and what it means to visit their shared space; the love of all the friendships Michael generated and shared in; his love of reading – in scripture and rabbinic texts and commentaries, of Victorines and medieval pashtanim – and the love that surrounded him as reader and scholar: love of God, love of humanity, love of word and Word, love of study partner for the other, and with Michael that meant love among Jewish scholars and between Jewish and Christian scholars and, in the more recent years, among Jewish and Christian and Muslim scholars. When we leaned in to hear Michael’s reading, we were also leaning in toward each other, not only as different individuals but also as members of different communities and traditions. Michael warmed love across the boundaries of texts and of religions.

Another smile is about the word “philosopher,” because Michael treated the word like a title he coveted but was denied by dint of excelling in something else (perhaps the way I, as a philosopher, covet his mastery of texts). But, as I finally had occasion to write as a chapter in his festschrift (forthcoming), Michael was indeed a “theological philosopher of the plain sense.” His work was infused by a transformative philosophy of deeper plain-sense reading: a vision of the integrative and relational character of this reading and of the wisdoms that are delivered through it. In rabbinic fashion, he did not burden his readers with formalized or abstract sketches of this philosophic vision (the kind of abstraction that often passes as “philosophy”); instead, he re-invested his vision within his text commentary and super-commentary, within his interpretive writing and teaching, and within the fellowships and friendships and bonds of love he nurtured among so many people representing such a variety of confessions, beliefs, and disciplines.

Continue your teaching among us, Michael; we have so much yet to learn.

Prof. Peter Ochs (Charlottesville, Va.)

Betty--Rick and I have such fond memories of Michael from his HUC days. May his memory be a blessing to you and yours.

Adele Lander Burke (Los Angeles, CA)

I was deeply saddened to learn of Michael's passing. I fondly recall my conversations with Michael when I worked at HUC back in the 80's, as well as the time we spent shmoozing while I worked on his home computer. Michael was a top-notch mensch and he will be sorely missed by all who knew him. My heartfelt condolences to Betty and family.

Rick Burke (Los Angeles, CA)

Michael was my teacher at the Kallah before he became my friend. I have nothing but fond memories of time spent with Michael and Betty. Sandy and I are deeply saddened by the loss.

Harvey Gordon (Houston, TX)

We only have wonderful memories about Michael and how he welcomed my wife Jen into the family.

David Bergenfeld (New York, NY)

I am saddened to know that Rabbi Michael Signer died recently.

He was a great teacher and mentor. I studied with him at HUC-JIR, LA and I learned so much from him.

His classes were dynamic.Condolences to his family .A great man in Israel has left the earth!

Sharon Murphy (New Orleans, LA)

I became close to Michael when I spent my sabbatical at Notre Dame. We studied weekly Hasidic texts. He was a scholar with a heart, dedicated to the Jewish people, and a good friend to me. Rarely have I met such a "mentch," warm and giving. Tehei nishamto tsura bitsurat hachayim.

Yehuda Gellman (Jerusalem, Israel)

Michael Signer was an extraordinary man of brilliant intellect and expansive generosity of spirit. His keen mind was mirrored by his warm heart. I cherished him as a teacher and mentor and Ira and I relished in his friendship. His memory will always be for a blessing. Betty, Aliza, and Hanna we hope that you will find strength from all of us who love you.

Grace and Ira Grossman (Los Angeles, CA)

I studied with Michael for several summers at the UAHC Kallah's in Santa Cruz in the 1990's and used much of his research for the final book in my "Rashi's Daughters" trilogy, which takes place during the First Crusade. What a loss for us Jewish medievalists! What an untimely death that he died just before the galleys were available. I so wanted to thank him.

Maggie Anton Parkhurst (Los Angeles, CA)

I met Michael on an interfaith seminar he led in Lublin. in ten short days he taught me so much. Above all he was a mensch. I think of and pray for the family.

Benjie Gruber (Jerusalem)

I was Confirmed with Michael. It was so nice to read of his achievements and accomplishments. I saw him recently on "Shalom TV".My heartfelt condolences to his family.

Hinda Lee Sheffer (Los Angeles, CA)

I smile with recognition as I read through the beautiful memories of Michael posted by other Notre Dame students. In my own years in the graduate program, I had on multiple occasions witnessed Michael’s ebullience and brilliance in public lectures and events, but I embarked upon my dissertation without ever having taken one of his courses. This did not stop him from welcoming an inquiry about Jewish theologies of the Holy Spirit occasioned by a short section of my thesis on the pneumatology of Dominican Yves Congar. Michael so engaged me in this question that what originated as a footnote in a dissertation has become a major part of my theological work.

Some of my most vivid memories of Michael are from a week at the Center for Dialogue and Prayer in Oswiecim, Poland in the fall of 2000. As others have noted, Michael and Betty organized these events on the edge of Auschwitz to bring together Christians and Jews from Poland, Germany, Israel, and the United States. It is not an easy journey to make. One of the Jewish participants in the event was invited to return a subsequent year and declined – it is just too hard to be there, he said – and rightfully so. Yet Michael and Betty returned, again and again.

During the week, Michael mentored Rabbinic students from Hebrew Union College, used his language skills to help Poles and Germans communicate with each other (breaking at one point into Latin), engaged in intense discussion of Levinas with a German Christian graduate student, and had a heart-to-heart conversation with Polish students about Fr. Maximilian Kolbe (a proponent of anti-Jewish theology before his incarceration at Auschwitz – and a hero to Poles because he asked the Nazis to take his life in place of another prisoner.) Throughout the week, Michael and Betty modeled the compassionate listening and truthful speaking that is essential to authentic interreligious and international dialogue.

I will never forget the evening that concluded the week of dialogue. After walks through the death camps, lectures, and intense and difficult discussions, we gathered on Friday evening in the dining room of the Centre for Dialogue and Prayer to welcome the Sabbath. Oblong tables had been joined at the edges to make one large dining table which was covered with a white cloth and adorned with cuttings of Polish wildflowers. Sabbath prayers were said, the Sabbath candles were lit, and the challah bread was blessed and broken and shared. Faces were aglow, reflecting the light of the candles and the ruby red of the wine. There was laughter, and conversation in four different languages, and the clinking of silver, and the sharing of food. And then there was song. It began at the head of the table, where three rabbinical students sang rousing melodies in Hebrew. Then the song moved to the center of the table where a German priest sang Salve Regina. The song swelled as the Polish students, who were the most numerous group in the gathering, joined the chorus. The Americans sang in English, and then the music moved back to the rabbinical students who sang Hinei ma tov uma naim, Shevet achim gam yachad. And then, immediately after they had finished, the Polish students at the opposite end of the table began-in unison, without prompting-to sing exactly the same melody, with Polish words: Zobaczcie jak jest dobrze przebywac razem z bracmi. Both the Hebrew and the Polish versions of this song have exactly the same translation: "Behold, how good it is when brothers and sisters dwell together as one" (Psalm 133).

"This evening," someone commented as we reluctantly began to rise from the table, "was a victory over Hitler." It was, indeed. And it was a victory that would not have happened without the faith and courage and compassion and vision of Michael and Betty Signer.

Michael was a good friend to my husband, William O'Rourke,my son Joe, and me. That is just that, a friend who committed himself to his definition of friendship, attentive, gentle, and loyal. John Cavadini wrote once that Michael always started where people were and joined them at their level, whether it be intellectual, spiritual, or an emotion endeavor. He asked my teenage son about math -- which is pretty funny if you knew Michael -- me about bricklayer unions, and kept William talking about Dick Cheney. As I began to pay attention as much as he me I encountered a brilliant, loving man. It is clear reading the bound manuscript that will become his Festritch, that Michael thankfully got to read before he died, that I am not alone appreciating Michael for his kindness. Martin Buber writes “when I confront a human being as my You and speak the basic word I-You to him.. he is no longer a dot in any world grid of space or time.” So it was with Michael, he treated you like a You. Anyone reading this wants to remember Michael and how can you without his humor. I wish he didn’t die, he really wanted to go to Kenya though he expected to preach to the zebras, because he didn’t know if the people were ready for him. Many weren’t but his love was as big as the universe and he was ready for them, for us.

Rabbi Michael was one of the greatest influences on my learning and growing-up while an undergraduate at Notre Dame. Most of all, he taught me to always consider how the 'other side' might feel in any relationship that one engages in, or any dialogue that one is having. For it is in doing that--and only in doing that--that the relationship, the dialogue, truly becomes meaningful. Rabbi Michael preached this truism often. But more importantly, he lived it. Everyday. In a faith community in northern Indiana that was very much unlike his own. He made The Dialogue meaningful every day of his life by living it. And that's how you knew that he meant what he preached.

Rabbi Michael would want us all to live our dialogues that way, too. It's the greatest way that we can honor his memory.

I will miss my great teacher who became my great friend.

Peter O'Donnell
ND '98
Chicago, IL

The word that comes most readily to mind when I think of Michael Signer is “luminous”. So full of life, Michael always seemed to shine from within, illuminating the goodness in others, discovering the noble intention, smoothing over the misspoken, finding the possibility of new, positive meaning in the most familiar words, phrases, stories. That luminosity dispersed the shadows, renewed hope, repaired the world. Michael had the ability to warm hearts, to fill a room with laughter and good spirit, but also to enkindle a fire of pure, intellectual intensity. Of him it may truly be said, “Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever” (Dan.12:3).

I first came to know Michael in the context of the interreligious Scriptural Reasoning seminar at Princeton’s Center of Theological Inquiry. Michael’s great learning, his attitude of openness, respect, and gratitude for everything good, combined with his contagious zest for life, helped to make the days we Jews, Muslims, and Christians spent together a mountain-top experience that I’ll never forget. None of us will. Michael’s great hope was that reading the Scriptures together, sharing our derash, would make us “partners in understanding the divine word to be a blessing to the entire world.” His example taught us to share that hope.

There are more personal memories: the walk Michael and I took one October day when I came to Notre Dame for my job talk; the convivial meals shared with Michael, Betty, and their visitors from all over the world; the way he called me "Annie"; the oatmeal breakfasts we had together (in grateful memory of coffee breaks he had had with Tom O'Meara); the deep gratitude with which Michael spoke of his mentors at Toronto and in Rome; the fatherly affection he lavished on his students and the pride he exhibited in their accomplishments; the way he held my Levinas and Medieval Literature manuscript in his hands to bless it, before I mailed it off to the Press (knowing that his own Levinas book, co-edited with Kevin Hart, would be published the same Spring); the delight he took in being photographed with "his" Nashville Dominicans; the gift of friendship that he and Betty gave together, so warmly, to so many people.

In the end, thinking of Michael simply makes me grateful to be a human being and wanting to be more fully human. Bless the Lord for the blessing of Michael.

Ann W. Astell,
University of Notre Dame

Michael was my teacher, dissertation committee member, and friend. He inspired me to continue to work in interreligious dialogue, even when it was difficult. I enjoyed his sense of humor, his ability to make Biblical Commentary and History come alive, and I loved the moments shared in his classes or in our meetings.

When I wrote to him while he was being treated, he said he admired my courage. How like him, to find the strength in others, to remember us. I shall miss that about him. When once, as a graduate, I had to face a crowd of people who were not going to look at me with respect, Michael gave me a wry smile and said: "it cannot possibly be as bad as..." and reminded me of one of the worst days of our early Ph.D. program when two professors and two students sat in a class together, always on...Never getting to relax, and all four were type A!!! I take the same deep breath and go on now, as I did then.

Rest well Michael, and help God sort through the historical documents we cannot find!

Dr. Sherry H. Blumberg

Our connection to Michael (and Betty) is not academic, but social, dating back to the late 1960’s or early 1970’s (we need Michael to remember the exact dates) in Toronto, Canada. Samy first met Michael in the underground parking of our mutual apartment building where we parked side by side. Michael and Betty had recently taken up residence in Toronto where Michael was studying for his doctorate at the University of Toronto. Samy and I had recently returned to Canada from Israel, where we lived, shortly after the 6 Day War. There was an immediate connection between Michael and Samy and our friendship as couples grew through the years to the present time. We were so looking forward to Michael and Betty’s return to Toronto for the Fall 2008, when Michael was planning to teach at the University of Toronto. Instead, we received the overwhelmingly sad news of Michael’s illness.

We are ever so grateful that we did have the opportunity to spend a delightful evening with Michael and Betty as recently as the winter of 2008 when they were in Toronto and also in November 2005 when they came to our daughter’s wedding in Toronto. As Michael always reminded us with his infectious smile, it was the birth of their first daughter that inspired us to have our only daughter, the greatest gift in life.

We knew that Michael had made great scholarly achievements and was a highly respected member of the academic community, but it was wonderful to read the multitude of tributes and learn more about Michael the academic. We have so many fond memories of Michael and will forever remember him as the very special person he was. We will miss him greatly.

Frances & Samy Ezerzer
Toronto, Canada

Two years ago, I had an opportunity to take a course with Michael Signer on Jewish-Christian dialogue in Germany before and after the Shoah. The course was supposed to have a German-language reading component, but, perhaps to his slight dissappointment, Michael discovered on the first day that only one student was interested in taking on this extra burden. I was the one. "Why not?" I thought to myself. "This will be a good chance to work on my language skills." At the time, I did not realize that this experience would not be memorable for the German but for the chance to spend time, one-on-one, with a truly caring and inspirational professor and friend whom I will never forget.

So, not deterred by the general lack of interest, Michael agreed to meet individually with me several times throughout the semester, and we made our way through some German texts together. The text that I remember most was an essay by Johann Baptist Metz, a Christian theologian who argued that Christian thinkers have an obligation to understand themselves, not only in relation to Judaism, but also and more importantly in conversation with Jewish people. Theology could not proceed without dialogue. As I look back, I am struck by the fact that we were, in a small way, performing precisely the task that Metz had laid upon us. In the midst of our conversations--which were certainly not all about German!--I had a chance to learn a little bit about what it was like for Michael to be a Jewish Rabbi, working in a Catholic theological institution. I was able to see, and ultimately I was profoundly shaped by, his committment to dialogue among Christians and Jews. I remember his almost constant refrain: "God has spoken once but has been heard twice," which I continue to think is a beautiful metaphor for the kind of positive Christian-Jewish encounter which Michael tirelessly advocated.

When Michael invited me to attend a week-long Jewish-Christian dialogue in Poland, along with several other Notre Dame students, and students and faculty from other institutions in the US, Germany, Poland, and Israel, I jumped at the opportunity. I had no idea at the time that I would be a witness to one of Michael's last trips. Over the course of the week, it became clear why he was so loved and admired by students and colleages around the world. He somehow managed to combine a contagious and uplifting sense of humor with a sense of profound seriousness and reverence before the greatest tragedies in history. He was warm and approachable, while at the same time full of incisive and thought-provoking insights.

In the final months, Michael mentioned to many friends that his doctor had told him that "his work was not done." And I believe that his work still lives on, in my own thoughts and scholarly activities, as well as in the lives of all the students and peers with whom he has interacted. Yet I am very sad that he is not still living among us. I'm sad that when I walk through Malloy I won't, on occasion, happen to run into him, or have a chance to ask him about conferences that he's just returning from or books that he's reading. He was a presence in my life that I will never forget. In his absence, in the midst of my sadness, I am comforted a little by my living memories of him, and by the hope that one day we will meet again.

Andrew Prevot
Ph.D. student, Systematic Theology, Notre Dame

Michael was an angel, figuratively and maybe even literally. He dwelt among us so we could see how a person could be righteous, thirst for knowledge and wisdom, love Torah, and build bridges to the Other. His love of words and the books that are filled with them was not just because they contained insights into both the divine and the human, but because through our interpretations of them – through Midrash – words provide us with a vehicle whereby we can learn about and see who we are, and reflect on what we aspire to be. Though words and Torah were his life, his eyes saw the Beauty in the world and never seemed to fixate on just one thing. He could be quiet, meditative and full of prayer, or an animated teller of stories. Michael was not a preacher, nor a judge. As a Rabbi, a teacher, he knew that his students had to discover Truth and decide for themselves what is Good. As an angel he created paths that people could take to go places that they did not know existed. Now in his passing Michael has taken one of those paths. Though he is gone, the paths are still there.

David S. Hachen, Jr.
University of Notre Dame

I didn't know of Michael before I came to Toronto in 1983. I soon found out that a lot of people there did. They got to know him when he did graduate work at the university. Jews and Christians alike remembered him fondly as a teacher and as a friend. In time I found out why and was privileged to feel included in his magic circle across continents and congregations. We had warm, though infrequent, meetings, mainly in Jerusalem. He has made a great contribution to Christian-Jewish understanding and I am most grateful for what I have learnt from his writings. I will miss him as will so many others.

Rabbi Dow Marmur, Rabbi Emeritus
Holy Blossom Temple
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Michael was my professor at Hebrew Union College/Jewish Institute of Religion. He quickly became my friend, and we giggled a lot over silly and ridiculous things. When I wrote my thesis on alcoholism in the Jewish community, he was not on my advisory committee, but read the manuscript as a friend. When he gave it back it was filled with notations and underlinings. I was devastated at some of the comments. "Cocktail party chitchat," was one of the lightest. When I asked him why he was so much harder on me than my advisors, he said, "This is important new material. I don't want even the most orthodox scholar to be able to pick it apart for lack of documentation." He forced me to be a serious scholar.

Over more than 30 years of friendship, we shared joys and sorrows together, celebrated holidays and holy days with good food and wine (thank you Betty!). Over the past months I have been looking for things that would make him laugh. I think I'll keep him with me a while longer as I continue to seek things that would bring a smile to his face.

Marcia Cohn Spiegel
Rolling Hills Estates, CA

I was lucky to come to visit Michael in the first days of December when he was well enough to enjoy my being there. It brought us much pleasure to see each other and be able to say goodbye.

Michael was one of my closest Jewish friends. I got to know him in 1989, when I held a theological symposium in Augsburg, together with my colleagues Klaus Kienzler and Jakob Petuchowski. Petuchowski’s former students, David Ellenson and Michael also took part in it. Within the first few days we established a friendship.

Michael was not only an excellent scholar of Jewish tradition, he understood Christianity and its history and could even see it from an inside perspective as well. He was also good at making friends; he has established friendships with Jewish and Christian colleagues in all English-speaking countries as well as in Israel, Germany, and Poland. I admire how he stood in close contact with young people, not only with his students.

Since 1989 we have met at least once a year when Michael was on his way to or from Israel and passing through Germany or when he came to conferences and lectures in Germany. It was his talent for language that made him so daring as to hold two lectures in German in 2007! Together with Betty, our “chief rabbi”, and coordinator, we held international seminars with Jewish and Christian participants at Auschwitz, Crakow, Nuremberg and Lublin. Our main goal has been to win students, graduates and scholars for the Jewish-Christian dialogue and to educate them about the topics linked with this. They are our hope for making the Christian-Jewish dialogue go on for the next generation and for the one after that.

Our friendship remains for me a sacred obligation to continue on the road of dialogue and reconciliation.

Prof. Dr. Hanspeter Heinz,
Augsburg, Germany
January 20, 2009

Michael and I shared a scholarly interest in medieval Jewish-Christian relations and a concern with fostering amity between Jews and Christians today. He was, first of all, an excellent scholar. The number of people who are deeply familiar with classical Jewish texts in the original and also exercise sovereign command of medieval Latin materials can be counted on the fingers of one hand—with some fingers left over. Michael was at the forefront of this tiny coterie. Moreover, as many of these tributes indicate, his qualities transcended his scholarly credentials, impressive as they were. He exuded friendship and humanity. The two of us had differences with respect to important issues in contemporary Jewish-Christian dialogue, and CCJR asked us to present divergent perspectives on Dabru Emet at what I believe was its first event. A public debate, even with a friend, can hardly be free of some sense of tension. In this case, however, Michael’s self-effacing warmth and good humor left me feeling no different than I would have felt had we agreed on every single point. People who did not know him will surely have trouble believing this. Those who did will not be surprised in the least. Yehi zikhro barukh.

In the fourth section of the Tanya, Shneur Zalman of Liadi wrote, "And this is what is written in the holy Zohar, that the righteous one, who has passed away, is found in all the world more than in his life . . . this is with respect to the worship of God, in heavenly matters, and with respect to mundane matters, it says explicitly in the holy Zohar, that the righteous protect the world, more in their deaths than in their lives, and if not for the prayer of the righteous in that world, the world would not exist even for a moment.”

Many words will be written to describe the life of Michael Signer but none will be adequate to capture the depth of his spirit and the vibrancyof his mind. In my last message from him he said, "haver, we will speak soon or we will continue to communicate in silence as we have always done." The burden to bear this loss seems overwhelming at the moment, but we can be confident that Michael's presence in the world will only be augmented and that he will protect us in these trying times. May his soul be bound to the bundle of life and may his family and friends be comforted in their grief.

Elliot R. Wolfson
Abraham Lieberman Professor of Hebrew and Judaic Studies
New York University

As I look at the photo of Michael at the top of this page, it seems so perfect an expression of him..that slightly crooked warm smile, that informal welcoming pose, that sense of delight and humor, someone so welcoming

I met Michael through our mutual friend and colleague Marc Bregman, who then taught at Hebrew Union College, the Jerusalem branch ... we used to jokingly call him Mon signeur" Signor. I think Marc had introduced me to him at an AJS conference back when it was held in Boston and about 20 years ago. I had done work on rabbinic hermeneutics and midrash, and Marc thought I would enjoy meeting Michael. The three of us immediately wound up laughing and joking, and alternately talking seriously about hermeneutics, and then all kinds of other silly and funny things. It was the highlight of the conference that year for me.

I think Michael called me "Reb Susie" after that. I would meet him now and then at an academic conferences or on one of his trips to Jerusalem. And have an occasional e-mail correspondence. But he was the kind of person one immediately felt a bond with, and you just stay friends with always even if you didn't see him for a long time.... he had a wonderful combination of intellectual brilliance, openness, humility, humaneness, respect for others, and spiritual sensitivity.

It's so painful for me to think he's left us.

Michael, thank you for gracing us with your presence ... with her love and wisdom and integrity.. I miss you..

"Reb Susie"
Susie Handelman
Chair, English Department, Bar-Ilan University, Israel.

I met Michael in 1956 when we started Junior High School together. As neighbors and both being least likely to become sports heroes of the school we developed a friendship based on humor and intellectual curiosity. This friendship lasted through the years of senior high and college at UCLA. Michael never failed to see every issue clearly and with insight beyond his years. He maintained that sense of humor at all times softening the intellectual edge. While we lost touch in later years, he remained part of my fondest memories of the early days. He will be sorely missed.

Robert J. Simon, M.D.

I have had the privilege of knowing Michael as a teacher and colleague throughout my career, but what I valued most was his friendship and support during a very difficult time in my life.

I first came into contact with him as a graduate student planning a course in Jewish-Christian Relations for my comprehensive exams at the Graduate Theological Union. I emailed Michael to ask him for a sample syllabus and he readily agreed even though we had no prior contact. That was the beginning of his effort to help forge a career path for me in the field of Jewish-Christian Relations. I would later see him on panels at the AAR and AJS, and I would write about his monumental contributions to the field with Dabru Emet and Christianity in Jewish Terms. HIs work truly inspired me to add my voice to the continuing conversation.

I later grew to appreciate his sincere friendship when he came to my strong support during one of the most difficult periods of my life. He along with other senior colleagues in the fields of Jewish Studies and Jewish-Christian Relations came to my defense in my tenure appeal proceedings by writing a very strong letter to the UA President. Through his efforts and others, I convinced the Committee on Academic Freedom and Tenure to recommend to the President that I be given a fair tenure process or just give me tenure on the merits of my work. While their unanimous recommendations unfortunately fell on deaf ears, I felt as if I had the gained the support of colleagues like Michael whose work I had admired and now could call friends.

Michael would later email me periodically about possible job announcements and he even tried to intercede on my behalf for one position. I'll never forget one breakfast meeting we had at the AAR at 7am just to talk job strategy. I felt truly blessed to have Michael as an ally in my career, and most importantly a true confidant. Even though we lost touch over the last few years, I always tried to keep up with Michael's career. When John Pawlikowski recently told me about his ongoing illness, I was shocked and saddened. As James Rudin has written, a giant in the field of Jewish-Christian Relations and Jewish Studies in general has fallen. Yet I will always remember him as a true mensch. His memory is indeed a blessing!

Marc A. Krell, Ph.D.
Teacher of Judaic Studies at the Adelson Educational Campus
Las Vegas, NV

Michael Signer's funeral service was held at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in Los Angeles on Wednesday, January 14, 2009. The eulogy was delivered by Rabbi David Ellenson, president of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, and is posted on HUC-JIR's website.

Click HERE.

Zekher Tzaddik Liverakhah (May the memory of the righteous be a source of blessing)

I came to Notre Dame last summer for a conference with great anticipation. I knew that it would be a quality meeting of minds – but my anticipation was as much because I would finally get a chance to see Michael in action in a sustained way and engage with him for more than a few minutes at a time. In recent years, since beginning my involvement in Christian-Jewish relations, Michael was always a most supportive mentor, ready to answer phone calls and emails with substance and real help. I had great admiration for his abilities to think theologically about both Judaism and Christianity and for the breadth of knowledge he could bring to discussions. In all this, he was very much a role model for me too. It was an honor to be a junior colleague in this work, and I only hope that others will be able to fill his shoes among the Jewish participants in the American and world-wide dialogue. I have also had the privilege in recent years to meet and work with a number of Michael’s former Notre Dame students, all of whom were deeply influenced by him and who themselves have become contributors to the dialogue in their various ways. This too will be a significant part of his legacy.

May that legacy—of deep wisdom, broad knowledge, and a warm, embracing personality—be a source of inspiration and blessing to us all.

Ruth Langer
Center for Christian-Jewish Learning
Theology Department
Boston College

Although people like us use words as our primary tools of work and communication, I am truly without adequate words to describe my sense of loss when I learned of Michael's death. Michael impacted upon two generations of my family.

While in recent years my contact with Michael Signer was primarily though CCJR-related events, I first encountered this exceptional rabbi about seventeen years ago while I was directing Relation and Encounter, the Christian-Jewish ministry of the Sisters of Our Lady of Sion in North America. Michael was on our Board of Directors and I remember most vividly when, at his first meeting with us, we were acquainting our Board members with the three-fold commitment of our religious community: “to the Church, to the Jewish people, and to a world of justice, peace and love.” Long before the day was over it was obvious to us all that Michael did not need an introduction to this three-fold commitment. He embodied it in his person and in his life. From that moment on Michael was not merely an erudite scholarly mentor to us and not merely a friend. – He was our brother! I know that I speak not only for myself but for all the Sisters of Sion who had the good fortune of knowing Michael when I say that we will miss him terribly. Our hearts go out in compassion and loving support to Betty and to his family.

What will remain uppermost in my memories of Michael is the depth of his faith and the ease with which he shared this in the interfaith environment. On numerous occasions Michael – who I am sure knew more about the history of theological developments in Roman Catholicism than I did – would throw me back on myself in a manner which deepened my appreciation of aspects of my Catholic faith which I easily took for granted or perceived in a somewhat jaded manner.

I particularly remember the time I shared with him my first synagogue experience when, at the time of the procession with the Torah scroll, the entire congregation suddenly swept toward the aisle with outstretched hands to lovingly touch the scroll. I was rooted to my spot, overcome with the holiness of the moment. As I recounted this Michael’s smile gently widened leading to his response: “You know, that sounds so similar to what I experience every time I am in a Catholic church at communion time watching the people waiting in long lines – without an iota of impatience – to receive the Eucharist. In our fast-paced life today we do not wait patiently, even in a short queue! I never cease to be in awe at the message this sends to me about Catholics’ belief in and love for this sacrament.I was stunned and sat with this observation of Michael's for a long time. Unconsciously, I had viewed our communion lines somewhat like a motley collection of nondescripts slowly shuffling forward until they received the host (and wine) and then were able to return to their pews. Since this conversation with Michael I have a new depth of appreciation of our Eucharistic ‘time of waiting’. Thank you, chaver!

In Psalm 147 the psalmist tells us that the Holy One knows the number of the stars and calls them each by name. I know that, now, one of the brightest stars in the heavens is named Michael!

Audrey Doetzel, NDS,
Associate Director,
Center for Christian-Jewish Learning
Boston College

My first encounter with Michael Signer is when I met him at the University of Notre Dame and told about my research. He immediately gave me two books that characterize his passion: one on Medieval Exegesis, and one on Dabru Emet. My last vivid memory of him is sitting next to him in a Palestinian restaurant in Jerusalem, talking about dialogue with great passion.

He had a passion for friendship. I will remember him in my prayers to the One about Whom he recognized we know so little but hope so much

Pim Valkenberg
Loyola College in Maryland