When a Ger Leaves: A Sobering Cheshbon HaNefesh for the Kehillah
by R. Pesach Lattin
Sometimes a story hits so close to home that it shakes you to the core. A family I knew—a ger tzedek and his family—recently went completely off the derech. It’s a sad tragedy, one that leaves a person with a heavy heart and no small amount of questions.
The husband, a sincere convert in my opinion, began his journey through a Conservative beis din but later pursued a proper geirus l’chumra to be mekabel the ol malchus Shamayim in earnest. It took five long years to complete the geirus—years filled with challenges, sacrifices, and endless waiting. In retrospect, maybe this was necessary? After finally becoming fully part of Klal Yisroel, they opened a kosher pizza shop. It was their livelihood, their life, their chance to build something holy. But when it shut down, they felt they received no real support from the community. Feeling abandoned, they moved elsewhere to try again, opening another restaurant. That too failed. And now, rachmana litzlan, they’ve turned their backs on everything they once fought so hard to embrace.
It’s a situation that’s all too familiar in certain circles, and it raises uncomfortable questions for us as a community. Could this have been prevented? Is it even fair to blame the community? Maybe this is just the way things are in this mundane world, where everyone is busy with their own struggles. But what if we could have done more? What if this tragic outcome reflects not just their challenges, but a failing on our part as well?
The Painful Reality of Geirus
Geirus is a act of unparalleled mesiras nefesh. To abandon everything—their family, culture, and sometimes even their identity—to accept Torah and mitzvos is no small thing. But for many gerim, the journey doesn’t end with the geirus; it only begins. And for too many, that beginning is filled with tzaros.
The challenges of geirim are manifold:
1. Parnassah Difficulties: Many gerim start with limited financial resources, and finding a sustainable parnassah in the frum world can feel nearly impossible.
2. Social Isolation: Without natural family ties in the community, they often feel like outsiders, no matter how much they try to integrate.
3. Unrealistic Expectations: While we praise gerim for their mesiras nefesh, too often we take it for granted, expecting them to carry the burden alone without offering real assistance.
What Can Be Done?
The Torah tells us no fewer than 36 times to love and care for the ger. It’s a mitzvah so central that it defines our entire identity as a people. If we fail in this mitzvah, it’s not just the gerim who suffer—it’s a flaw in our entire role as a mamleches kohanim. So what can we do?
1. Structured Kehillah Support
Every local community should have a dedicated va’ad to support gerim, whether it’s connecting them with families for consistent Shabbos invitations, providing chavrusos, or simply being a point of contact for guidance. A ger should never feel like they’re navigating this alone.
2. Parnassah Resources
We need to recognize that financial struggles are often the breaking point. Communities could establish funds to help gerim get on their feet or provide guidance for parnassah options that align with their unique challenges.
3. Real Chesed, Not Just Lip Service
It’s not enough to give a polite “yasher koach” and move on. Gerim need real relationships—people who care, who invite them not as guests but as part of the family. It’s the difference between being tolerated and being truly welcomed.
4. Empathy Education
The community needs to understand the struggles gerim face, from feeling like outsiders to dealing with the weight of starting from scratch. This awareness can foster more sensitivity and a willingness to go the extra mile.
5. Follow-Up from Rabbonim
Rabbonim involved in the geirus process must stay involved afterward. A rav or dayan who helped a family join Klal Yisroel should remain a source of support and guidance, ensuring they don’t fall through the cracks.
A Call to Action
The sad reality is that not every story will have a happy ending. People have free will, and not every challenge can be resolved. But this much is clear: If a family leaves the derech because they feel abandoned by the community, it reflects on all of us. The Torah commands us: “V’ahavtem es hager, and you shall love the convert” not just with words, but with actions that show we value them as full members of the community.
This family’s story is heartbreaking, but it’s also a wake-up call. Let us take this tragedy and turn it into a merit, one of ahavas Yisroel and of making sure that no ger ever feels like a stranger in our midst again. May we merit to build a community where every neshama is cherished, and where the mitzvah of “v’ahavtem es hager” is fulfilled in its fullest sense.