Today, Philadelphia-area Jews, especially those in Chester County, know Rabbi Jeff Sultar as the longtime spiritual leader at Congregation B’nai Jacob in Phoenixville. In March, the synagogue extended Sultar’s contract after 11 years together.
But this popular rabbi of a 117-family congregation was once adrift from God and Judaism. He got sent to the principal’s office in religious school, called himself an atheist and, by the time he graduated from Williams College in Williamstown, Massachusetts, only possessed a vague understanding of Judaism as his identity.
But his outlook changed during what he describes as a “solo, 27-month, 46-state, 16,000-mile bicycle journey throughout the United States” on congbj.org. The spiritual journey ended with Sultar finding his way back to Judaism, or perhaps finding it for the first time.
The rabbi with the new contract took some time with Philadelphia Jewish Exponent to reflect on his journey.
I Had Spent 19 of the First 22 Years of My Life in School
It was this realization that led to the bike journey, according to Sultar. He had spent 19 of the first 22 years of his life setting goals, completing assignments and trying to achieve those goals.
“It just dawned on me at the end of college that there might be a completely different way to approach life,” he recalled. “I decided to take off on a bicycle, with no goals, and just see what happened.”
I Literally Didn’t Know Which Way I Was Going to Go
Sultar bought a bike for $600, packed 50-pound bags of food and other necessities onto the front and back, and took off down the street from his parents’ house. He got to the end of the street and stopped. He looked both ways.
“I literally didn’t know which way I was going to go,” he said.
He turned left.
It Was a Really Weird Question to Ask
The future rabbi was not yet wise to the world. He thought it would just take care of him.
But when he asked strangers in the street or on their lawns if they would take him in for the night, they looked at him like he was crazy.
So, Sultar came up with a strategy: He would walk into stores and ask the employees or managers if they had work for him to do in exchange for a place to stay for the night.
This worked better because at least store employees and managers were “expecting questions,” Sultar said.
“It was still a really weird question to ask,” he recalled.
“I got a lot of weird jobs, but I never slept out,” he added.
He was able to work, sleep, live on $1 a day and, usually, eat, too, as his hosts often provided meals.
What I Figured Out Was to Live in the Present
Through these interactions and experiences, Sultar met a lot of people, and he realized over time that they were all interesting.
There was the guy who lived in the junkyard he owned and covered his interior walls with musical instruments; there was the family at the farmhouse in Georgia that didn’t lock its doors because they didn’t think anyone would want to steal anything; there were the tomato farmers who made giant lunches in the middle of the day and then napped on their kitchen floor.
“Up until then, I was a typical college student, self-involved. What I learned was that people are endlessly fascinating,” he recalled. “If I didn’t think somebody was extraordinary, I just hadn’t listened enough.”
I’m Possibly the Only Person Who Ever Became a Rabbi After Working on an Amish Farm
Ironically, it was a stay in the Amish country that led Sultar back to Judaism.
The future rabbi attended a Bible study with neighbors of the Amish family with whom he was staying. The preacher, who was not Amish, found out Sultar was Jewish and went after the future rabbi’s soul.
When Sultar got back to the Amish home, he told the father and son what had happened.
“They were aghast. That led to a discussion about the Amish approach: They said, ‘Look, obviously we have really strong religious beliefs. We try to live by them, but we don’t tell people how to live. To the extent we get it right, we hope others will be influenced by it,’” he recalled.
After he left the Amish country, Sultar realized that the father, the son and the other Amish people didn’t talk much about religion at all. They just lived it.
He also recognized that he had “never really experienced community before,” but he had seen it in the Amish country. As the future rabbi put it, “They didn’t have health insurance. If somebody needed help, the community banded together to support them.”
Sultar realized that he belonged to the Jewish community.
“I’m possibly the only person who ever became a rabbi after working on an Amish farm,” he said.