Macon Magazine

August/September 2025 | maconmagazine.com 91 I t could be the setup for a classic joke. A rabbi, an accordion player, and a hot sauce maker walk into a bar. The twist is, they're all the same guy. The multitalented Aaron Rubinstein has called two of the world's most iconic cities his home – New York and Los Angeles – but it was Macon that ultimately claimed his heart. Rubinstein first arrived to steward historic Congregation Sha'arey Israel in the early '90s and, after a chapter in Memphis, decided to return for the part of his life he calls "Macon Part II." In a city with strong Jewish roots and a growing creative community, he marks milestones across generations of Macon's families. Here's why this continues to feel like the place he's meant to be. What was the winding path that brought you to Macon? I was a grad student in Manhattan. I graduated from the seminary where I got my rabbinical ordination in 1991, so you're looking for jobs in the spring of that year. Three people from Macon – you might even know them – came to New York. They were Steve Krueger, Jami Gaudet, and a sweet man who's no longer around named Ike Drazin. They interviewed me, and I guess they liked me. You had just decided to apply randomly? Just like – Macon, Georgia, why not? I decided to apply. I wouldn't even know where Macon was, and a New York Jewish question would be, are there Jews in Macon, Georgia? That would be the obvious question. I did not take the job in 1991. What happened was, I was offered it [and] my wife Sharona, who is a dancer and a bunch of other things, was dancing in Manhattan and she said, "Can we be in New York a little longer? I need to do some more dancing things." At the same time, I was interning in a big synagogue in Queens, Forest Hills. I got the job as an assistant rabbi in Queens, which I had for two years. They told me early on, "Well, we only have money for this job to happen for three years." That means I'm going to be looking before that, and as luck would have it – I'm having another interview, in Macon this time. I came down and Jami Gaudet said, eyes locked, "You said no last time we offered you the job. So if we offer you the job, you can't say no again." I said, "Yeah, I'll take it." Even the first time, we're looking around [at homes] … The realtor showed us a few beautiful houses. Even though I wasn't going to take the job, Sharona says to me – and it was the weirdest thing to say: "I just have a feeling we're going to end up here." And as we're pulling away, she said, "I just have a feeling about this place." So in 1993, I started here. That was through 2005, and then there was an opportunity when I was thinking about family. I have two kids. One is 23, Maya. Zohar is 27. They were both born here. In my mind, when we have kids, what do we want them to have? Educationally, in a Jewish community. Maybe we need to look for something in the big city. As luck would have it, we end up in Memphis, where I served in a wonderful synagogue from 2005 until the summer of 2013. While I enjoyed the time there and there were a lot of good things about those years, that's not where I was meant to stay. Then how did Macon choose you? How did it really become your home? I kept connections with good friends. When I was looking around, I got some very positive signals from friends here and people in the synagogue. I look at the whole thing as like, there's "Rubinstein Macon Part I," and then there's "Rubinstein Macon part II." On the one hand, it's the same rabbi and the same congregation. On the other hand, it's not the same congregation. They're older and different, and same with me. We are continuing to relearn each other in lots of ways. This was the first place where I really had to figure out what to do. It was my synagogue. The people who know me from way back when, they've taught me a lot of things I had to figure out. If you look at the old photographs, it's like they know me coming out of school, they knew me when I had hair – and it was long – and I was a very different person. Also, they watched as both Sharona and I figured out how to be parents. When my kids were babies and I was up on the pulpit leading services, I'm holding them right there. I have a memory of my son, and I am singing something. He reaches back and closes the book, and he says to me, "I want to go home now." I said, "Zohar, you can't go home now. I'm still in this part." He says, "No, but really, I want to go home now."

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