It wasn’t just Kingsbury, London that transformed under Rabbi Maurice Hool’s leadership; his vision affected the wider Anglo-Jewish community

Photos: Family archives

When Rabbi Maurice Hool assumed the position of rabbi in Kingsbury in 1959, the community, affiliated with the United Synagogue establishment, didn’t even have a shul, with the members, ranging from nominally-Orthodox-but-minimally-observant to middle-of-the-road Orthodox, davening in a local hall. In their newly hired rabbi, Maurice Hool, they may have thought they had found a suitably intellectual but low-key candidate to lead the community on its established path. Little did they know that they had hired a revolutionary.

By the time Rabbi and Rebbetzin Hool retired in 2005, they had drastically changed the lives of hundreds in their community and thousands beyond it. Kingsbury represented a turning point, and in some respects, the UK’s entire United Synagogue Anglo-Jewish establishment would never be the same again.

Rabbi Hool, who passed away on 9 Cheshvan at a young 95, may have appeared an unlikely candidate for a revolution. He was well presented, with an Irish accent and a gentlemanly manner. He wore a regular short suit, no rabbinical frock coat or rabbinic hat, and was a scholarly man with very solid yeshivah credentials. His integrity and sincerity were obvious. But underneath all that, he had a laser-like focus on doing what Hashem expected of him, steely determination, and the passion and creativity to bring people along with him.

Rabbi Hool changed so many lives; in his understated way, he was very powerful. He was a role model whom one knew was completely reliable. What you saw was what you got.

His schedule included shiurim for men and women, nurturing a busy youth program in which his sons would later play leading roles, and even giving a shiur for girls in his house on Shabbos afternoon, followed by the Rebbetzin’s ice cream. Although many families may have been lukewarm  toward Yiddishkeit, seeing it as not much more than a communal structure, a Friday night meal, shul on Shabbos morning, and of course weddings, bar mitzvahs and funerals, Rabbi Hool sold to his community what he termed “maximalist Judaism,” the kind that is governed by halachah and embraces all of life. It was the real thing, never watered down, and as his congregation came to respect that, they were slowly drawn in.

There was one man who started coming to shul on Shabbos morning, then began to come back in the afternoon for Minchah and Maariv, staying for the Gemara shiur in between. Then he started coming to the mid-week Gemara shiur, too. When he was asked what inspired him to come closer to Torah and mitzvos, he said simply, “Watching Rabbi Hool.”

Rabbi Yonasan Roodyn, rav of the Finchley Federation shul in London and the dynamic educational director of the UK’s Jewish Futures Trust (run by yet another Kingsbury native, Rabbi Naftali Schiff) and chizuk kerovim organization Klal Chazon, as well as a popular speaker on TorahAnytime, was raised in Rabbi Hool’s community.