Rabbi Shlomo Porter built his life around one belief: that every Jew — regardless of background, observance, or affiliation — deserves a place to learn, question and discover the depth of Jewish tradition. For more than four decades, he led the Etz Chaim Center for Jewish Learning in Baltimore with warmth, humor and quiet wisdom.
“He combined tremendous wisdom with an incredible ability to connect with people,” said Rabbi Zev Pomeranz, the organization’s current director. “He really cared about people and used that connection to explain Jewish concepts in a way that made sense to their lives.”
Porter, who died on Nov. 15 at age 78, became synonymous with Etz Chaim’s mission. The center began in the late 1970s as a grassroots effort launched by a group of Baltimore women seeking a place where adults from all walks of Jewish life could learn together. At first, he taught classes there occasionally. After several years in California, where he taught and administered a high school program blending outreach and Torah learning, he was invited back to Baltimore to lead the organization.
He returned in 1981. “They asked him to take over the program because they realized it could become a much larger organization,” Pomeranz said. “He turned it into a nationally recognized center that inspired all types of Jews.”
Under his leadership, Etz Chaim expanded dramatically. It developed programs for adults of all backgrounds, college students, newcomers to observance, and Russian-speaking Jews. It grew to two Baltimore locations with additional branches in Washington and Philadelphia. Known not as a synagogue but as a place for learning and community, Etz Chaim attracted people who might never have found a comfortable entry point elsewhere.
Because it was not tied to any movement, Pomeranz said, “it didn’t have the limitations of ‘you’re Reform,’ ‘you’re secular,’ ‘you’re Chabad,’ ‘you’re Orthodox.’ It included everyone.”
That openness became central to Porter’s approach.
His ability to bridge differences reflected both his personality and his training. Raised in Milwaukee, he was the son of Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union who had survived the World War II partisan movement. As a teenager, he studied at the Beis Medrash L’Torah yeshiva in Skokie, Illinois. He later spent more than a decade at Ner Israel Rabbinical College in Baltimore and earned a master’s degree in counseling from Loyola College.
“He was a very skilled counselor,” Pomeranz said. “People sought his advice all the time.”
Students and colleagues often described him as approachable and sincere. Pomeranz noted that he had “a very positive, very friendly” personality — “fun, playful, but real,” he added. “Authentic and deep.”
That combination made him a beloved presence. At his funeral, Rabbi Shraga Neuberger described him as geshmak, a Yiddish word that literally means “tasty” but conveys delight.
“He was delightful to be around,” Pomeranz said, echoing the sentiment. “He always had something wise and funny and inspiring to say.”
Even after stepping back from full-time leadership in 2016, Porter stayed involved. He continued teaching, advising and assisting with administrative work until health challenges limited his mobility and energy. Parkinson’s disease, or a similar neurological condition, emerged several years ago, though he remained “very wise and very lucid,” Pomeranz said.
He still met with people, counseled them and taught on Zoom. Only in the last month of his life did severe illness pull him away from the work he had shaped for so long.
Porter became a central figure in the broader outreach movement. He was part of the generation that helped establish kiruv — Jewish outreach to the unaffiliated — as a national framework. He served as president of the Association for Jewish Outreach Professionals and later as a trustee, mentor and teacher to many who entered the field. Etz Chaim itself became a training ground for educators who would go on to lead similar programs across the country.
Stories shared online after his death reflect the breadth of his influence. Former students recalled that his warmth brought them to Shabbat tables and classes before they felt comfortable in traditional settings. Others said he helped them reconnect with Judaism after years away. Many simply wrote that he changed their lives.
Pomeranz said the core of Porter’s legacy lies in relationships — with God, with Torah and with the people he guided. When asked what the rabbi would have wanted to be remembered for, Pomeranz answered without hesitation: “Having an authentic, deep, and passionate relationship with Hashem and people.”
For Pomeranz, who worked closely with him and now oversees the organization he built, Porter’s leadership remains a guiding model. “He really understood people,” he said. “He explained Jewish ideas in a way that related to them personally. That’s what made him shine.”
Ellen Braunstein is a freelance writer.
