Rabbi Eliyahu Fink, z”l, has left this world far too soon, and the heartache reverberates through the many communities that were enriched by his influence. He was just 43 years old when he was tragically niftar last Thursday night/early Friday morning (March 21), in an accident on the Garden State Parkway. Among the many who mourn are those who knew him from his pioneering blog, FinkOrSwim, others who interacted with him as their rabbi at the “shul on the beach” in Venice, and still more who encountered him in person or online and were left forever changed by his sincerity and empathy.
He was not merely a writer of divrei Torah or a commentator on communal matters. In the words of the writer and editor Menachem Butler, who shared a heartfelt tribute online, Rabbi Fink was “a singular voice in the Jewish world, a thinker who invited conversation without requiring consensus.” Through FinkOrSwim, Rabbi Fink cultivated a haven where robust dialogue could thrive, “where Torah felt immediate and alive, and where nuance and complexity weren’t obstacles – they were the point.” Butler noted that Rabbi Fink’s writing was “sharp, thoughtful, and unmistakably his own,” and that he “raised difficult questions and made compelling arguments without dismissing those who saw things differently.”
But beyond his public platform, Rabbi Fink was someone who offered a listening ear and genuine friendship, particularly to those who felt overlooked. “He had a quiet attentiveness to people,” Butler observed, “especially those who found themselves on the margins. He made each of us feel that we had a place in the conversation he was shaping.” His private acts of gemilus chasadim were done unassumingly, as though they were simply the expected rhythm of a decent life.
Rabbi Fink’s capacity to connect with all stripes of Klal Yisrael, and even those not yet fully observant, was remarkable. Business colleagues in the advertising field – people who otherwise rarely stepped foot in a shul – spoke about being drawn to his warmth. Michael Benedek recalled visiting Rabbi Fink’s shul in Venice and feeling so welcomed that he said, “If I lived there, I would go to shul regularly.” Online tributes from readers and acquaintances revealed how his open approach made them feel at home, no matter their level of observance.
In the flurry of online condolences, individuals shared vignettes that spoke volumes about Rabbi Fink’s character. One user remembered a secret handshake from childhood; another recalled the depth of his blog writings. Many simply said, “BDE,” while offering anecdotes of how he responded to them with kindness and respect. Still others praised his yiras Shamayim, his unflinching honesty, and the unique tone he set in his public discourse.
A mourner wrote, “He was an intellectual the likes of which are too infrequent these days,” capturing the sense that although Rabbi Fink was unafraid to tackle complicated sugyos and communal issues, his approach was never about sensationalism. It was about seeking emes and fostering an environment where discussion could be had with dignity.
Menachem Butler described him best: “He wasn’t just a rabbi with a blog – he was inviting honest conversation… Yet his voice reached far beyond his original shul circle.” Indeed, Rabbi Fink’s influence extended far and wide. Many people, spanning from Los Angeles to Monsey, from Phoenix to online communities across the globe, testify to the gravitational pull of his authenticity. He wrestled with real-life issues in real time, seeing nuance as an opportunity, not a stumbling block.
One final thought: He often spoke of a vision, “where warm conversation, intense debate, and love for Torah Judaism co-exist.” That vision was not mere theory. He demonstrated it in how he lived, how he taught, and how he listened. His passing leaves a void, yet the lessons he imparted – about seeing the dignity in every person, finding vitality in our Torah study, and engaging sincerely with the world – remain a guidepost for all of us.
May his memory be a blessing, and may his family find nechama among the mourners of Tzion v’Yerushalayim. Baruch Dayan HaEmes.
