Mordechi Rosenfeld, better known as Modi, understood the power of a well-crafted joke. He knew, for instance, that a story involving the gay dating app Grindr would truly land if it also featured a Holocaust survivor.
After a recent performance at a Comedy Cellar outpost, where he’s graced the stage for over three decades, Modi relaxed at Reserve Cut, an upscale kosher steakhouse in Manhattan. There, he recounted a new piece of material he had tested that evening.
He shared an extended story about a peculiar experience on the gay dating app. Years prior, he had unknowingly chatted with someone whose bedroom interests veered into World War II, specifically the German military. The man arrived at Modi’s apartment door in a Nazi uniform. Coincidentally, Modi’s elderly neighbor, a Holocaust survivor living with dementia for whom Modi often cared, chose that exact moment for a nighttime stroll into the hallway. The scene was, to say the least, awkward. The man, realizing his mistake, quickly excused himself. The punchline, delivered with Modi’s signature Long Island accent and subtle Israeli lilt, concluded that the neighbor, startled by the sight, remarkably never wandered away after dark again.
The audience, a mix of men in black velvet yarmulkes and observant Jewish women in wigs, erupted in laughter. Modi admitted the joke might be edgy for some, but its profound Jewish roots made it resonate deeply with this crowd.
“The essence of the joke wasn’t about the sexual encounter; it was about the Jewish perspective,” Modi explained. “Many comedians are Jewish by chance, but I am, at my core, a Jewish comedian.”
For three decades, being a ‘Jewish comedian’ meant a steady career performing for Jewish organizations and comedy clubs from Borough Park to South Florida. He cultivated a dedicated fanbase who knew him simply as Modi, yet mainstream recognition remained just out of reach.
However, in the two years following the October 7th attacks, which coincided with the conflict in Gaza and a global surge in antisemitism, Modi, now 55, has seen an unprecedented boom in his career. He’s now filling thousands of seats in theaters across Las Vegas, Atlanta, Paris, and Tel Aviv.
Amidst an era of anxiety and division for American Jews, it seems to be a remarkably opportune time for Modi.
His comedic routines and podcast clips are wildly popular, shared by hundreds of thousands online. He’s preparing to record his second comedy special this December, with a major show at Radio City Music Hall planned for April.
Award-winning comedian Alex Edelman, a lifelong admirer, speaks of Modi’s recent success as a true ‘renaissance.’
“I’ve witnessed him perform in Yiddish, for Hasidic audiences, and for crowds with no Jewish members at all,” Edelman remarked. As a modern Orthodox teenager, he even owned a DVD of Modi’s stand-up. “There’s truly no one quite like him,” he added.
Modi’s remarkable knack for blending aspects of his identity—what he playfully calls ‘bubble hopping’—has been central to his surge in popularity. He draws heavily from his Jewish background for material, from jokes about family trips to Israel to the nuanced cultural distinctions between Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews, often punctuating his humor with Hebrew and Yiddish. Many of his shows conclude with the audience collectively singing ‘Hatikvah,’ the Israeli national anthem.
Lately, his comedy also delves into his marriage to Leo Veiga, his 33-year-old husband who grew up Catholic. Their marriage now provides fresh material for Modi’s act.
During recent performances in New York and Ohio, a quick poll revealed that only a handful of audience members weren’t Jewish.
Modi recognizes his strong Jewish following, but he’s actively working to broaden his appeal. He aims to connect with audiences who might appreciate a Grindr-themed joke more naturally, without sacrificing the deeply impactful humor rooted in experiences like that of the Holocaust survivor. In his own words, he’s seeking to attract the ‘Goyim, gays, and theys.’
“Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, I don’t categorize the world by Jewish or non-Jewish, gay or straight, thin or fat, Black or white,” he affirmed. “My world is simply divided into people who buy tickets to my shows and those who don’t. That’s my only lens.”
The challenge remains whether this broader, more secular audience—navigating sensitive topics like antisemitism and Israel—will reciprocate his embrace.
‘Moshiach Energy’: A Divine Calling to Comedy
One bright morning, Modi filmed himself on his sun porch, dressed casually in gym shorts and a T-shirt. He meticulously performed his morning prayers: donning a yarmulke, kissing the fringes of his prayer shawl, and wrapping tefillin—leather boxes traditionally worn on the forehead and arm—while whispering Hebrew prayers into the camera.
He later shared this unique ritual on social media, playfully titling the video ‘ASMR: putting on tefillin.’
This is a regular practice for Modi, who not only leads services at his modern Orthodox synagogue in the East Village but also studied cantorial singing at a Hasidic yeshiva and maintains a kosher home. Yet, by presenting it with a contemporary twist, he cleverly connects with both his observant followers who understand the significance of tefillin, and secular viewers accustomed to online ASMR content. His personal philosophy, “Moshiach energy” or “Messiah energy,” is even featured on his merchandise, including embroidered yarmulkes.
Modi sees comedy as more than just entertainment; for him, it’s a sacred calling. He articulated this vision one sunny Sunday afternoon from his second home in western Connecticut, which he acquired last year.
While his husband, Leo Veiga, hosted guests enjoying the pool in their manicured backyard, Modi was immersed indoors, studying the Talmud, a rich collection of rabbinical discussions spanning millennia.
He recalled a tale from the Talmud about two ‘anshay b’dicha,’ or jesters, who were commended by the prophet Elijah for spreading joy. Modi had always puzzled over one aspect: why did the ancient rabbis specify two comedians, rather than just one?
The answer struck him during an unexpected moment: dancing shirtless at a techno rave with his husband, while on ketamine. He realized that a comedian cannot work alone; rather, they must collaborate to mend divisions and bring healing through laughter.
A second profound insight into his craft emerged while reading a Torah portion, where God describes Jews as the ‘chosen people.’
“We weren’t chosen to be the strongest, most powerful, or richest,” he explained. “Jews were placed on this earth to generate healing energy.”
These revelations coalesced into his personal comedic philosophy: ‘Moshiach energy’—Messiah energy.
For Modi, this slogan embodies a Messianic concept inspired by Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the late leader of the Chabad-Lubavitch Orthodox movement. He interprets it as a divine mandate to infuse the world with positive energy, thereby hastening the arrival of the Messiah.
Modi uses his comedy to provide a respite from the divisive politics that often preoccupy his audience. His own political stance, much like some of his fans’, is intricate. He voiced concerns over the views on Israel held by New York City mayoral nominee Zohran Mamdani, yet also expressed appreciation for what he perceives as President Trump’s support for Israel.
However, he clarifies that his purpose isn’t to dissect the complexities of Israeli-American relations. “My show,” he stated, “is a moment for laughter amidst everything else.”
Born to Israeli immigrants, Modi discovered his profound faith as a teenager on Long Island.
His religious observance deepened significantly during his time at Boston University, where he frequently studied at a Lubavitch center. He honed his Yiddish, a language he’d heard from his grandparents, and found inspiration in the comedic timing of legendary Yiddish duo Shimon Dzigan and Israel Schumacher.
“The timing, the cadence, the words—it was incredible,” he recalled during an interview on Marc Maron’s “WTF” podcast. “It was truly another level of comedy.”
Early in his career, Modi was a sought-after performer for Jewish charities and community groups, known for his clean humor and ‘hamish’—a Yiddish word for warm and familiar—style.
Following his education and a period at a New Jersey yeshiva, Modi briefly worked as an investment banker. His husband humorously describes him as a ‘personality hire,’ as Modi, who is dyslexic and has A.D.D., found the intricate details of finance challenging.
However, he excelled at imitating the office secretaries.
A friend’s encouragement led him to try stand-up, and Modi was instantly captivated. He became part of the waning Catskills comedy scene, began performing at the renowned Comedy Cellar, and toured clubs nationwide, always seeking his rabbi’s blessing before each performance.
“While many comedians cite childhood or adult trauma as their origin story,” said Donny Moss, who booked Modi’s first stand-up gig in 1993, “he was simply a naturally funny person who recognized his talent and put in the effort.”
Despite submitting less overtly Jewish material to Comedy Central and late-night shows without mainstream breakthrough, Modi cultivated a significant following. His performances for synagogues, Jewish charities, and community groups allowed him to become a full-time comedian.
“You don’t know a tough crowd until you’re facing 1,200 well-fed Jews,” he quipped. “If you don’t hook them in the first few seconds, they’ll simply get up and leave, saying, ‘That’s enough. I’ll be in the lobby.’ My real competition was always the lobby; Jews, he says, adore a good lobby.”
Professionally, he wasn’t openly gay, but neither was he closeted. His friends and family were aware of his relationships with men. For the most part, Modi simply focused on his work.
“My comedic voice developed as a Jewish voice, not a gay one,” he explained. “My being gay was simply a fact of my private life, who I slept with. It wasn’t my public persona.”
He elaborated, “I worked relentlessly, performing two or three comedy shows every night and spending every weekend either in the Catskills or on other gigs. I was so dedicated to my career that I simply didn’t have time to ‘be gay’ in a public sense.”
From the kitchen, Leo Veiga offered his perspective: “Modi is a high-functioning bisexual. That’s why it never became a prominent part of his public image.”
The ‘Orthodox Ellen DeGeneres’
Throughout much of his career, Modi adhered to a fundamental principle: ‘Know your audience.’
He considers himself an ‘audience’s comic,’ proudly adapting his sets for his crowd rather than catering to critics. This phrase also carries a deeper, spiritual meaning, echoing the synagogue inscription above Torah scrolls: ‘Know in Front Whom You Stand.’
“Am I performing before God? Absolutely,” Modi declared. “God is unity, oneness. So when my audience and I laugh together, that, to me, is truly divine.”
Over the decades, his reputation grew. Modi performed for diverse groups, from former Vice President Mike Pence at a Republican Jewish Coalition meeting in Las Vegas, to Hasidic men in Brooklyn, and thousands of congregants at suburban synagogues.
He famously poked fun at Senator Joe Lieberman (describing him as ‘the spine of a Democrat, the principles of a Republican, and the wrinkles of Jimmy Carter’) and conservative commentator Ben Shapiro (‘that little bar mitzvah boy they put on the talk shows to annoy the other guests’) at Commentary magazine’s annual benefits. Lieberman himself later admitted, ‘I never thought I would hear, let alone laugh at, a ‘Hitler-Goebbels-Shabbat elevator’ joke.’
When 2020 arrived, the pandemic brought live performances to a standstill. Yet, the organizations that typically booked Modi still needed ways to engage their members and donors.
“Everyone called, needing Zoom shows – all the various Jewish organizations,” he recounted. “I quickly mastered the art of online performance, entertaining thousands of Jews virtually.”
Leo Veiga, who took on the role of Modi’s manager, proposed sharing clips on social media. This led to Modi developing viral characters like ‘Nir, not far,’ a verbose Israeli, and Yoely, a Hasidic Jew offering humorous commentary on mainstream TV.
Once pandemic restrictions eased, Veiga started producing live shows, navigating negotiations with Hasidic leaders and synagogue presidents over fees, security, and even specific religious rules for holiday performances. Audiences, captivated by Modi’s social media presence, were eager to see the man and the couple behind the humor. They officially announced their marriage in an interview with Variety magazine.
Modi realized his role now extended beyond just making people laugh; it also involved fostering a welcoming space for gay individuals within the observant community, assuring Jewish gay people that ‘it’s okay.’
Alex Edelman affectionately dubbed him the ‘Orthodox Ellen DeGeneres’ for his pivotal role in making the observant community more inclusive for LGBTQ+ couples.
After his set, while dining with his husband at the kosher restaurant in Lower Manhattan, Modi was continually approached by fans requesting photos and autographs.
One Orthodox woman, describing a ‘girls’ night out,’ shared how she and her friends had taken a party bus to one of Modi’s Long Island shows the previous year, leaving her husband and seven children at home. She effusively praised both Modi and Veiga.
“These fans have been with him since the beginning of his comedic journey,” noted Rabbi Gavriel Bellino, Modi’s close friend and rabbi. “At this point, he can say almost anything because their connection runs so deep.”
The couple confirms that his original, observant fanbase remains loyal. Interestingly, fans often refer to them as ‘Modi and his gay husband.’
“As if I’m not gay, but my husband is,” Modi mused.
A Dream Realized: ‘I Always Prayed for It’
On October 7, 2023, Modi and Leo Veiga were concluding a tour in Tel Aviv during the Jewish holiday of Sukkot. Following the Hamas-led attack on Israel, they secured the last flight to France. Just three days later, at a Paris show, Modi initiated a new tradition: concluding his sets with the singing of ‘Hatikvah,’ Israel’s national anthem. He received a resounding standing ovation.
However, anti-Israel protests outside the venue led French police to request the cancellation of his final scheduled show, a request Modi honored.
As global anxieties heightened, Modi’s fanbase only expanded. He sold thousands of tickets across London, New York, Sydney, and Melbourne, and embarked on what he termed a ‘reparations tour’ with appearances in Vienna, Berlin, Munich, and Warsaw. These shows also proved highly popular, particularly after Veiga ensured audiences of enhanced private security at each venue. As Modi has expanded his material to include his gay identity, he notes that this has had little impact on booking requests from Hasidic and modern Orthodox organizations.
His first comedy special, aptly titled “Know Your Audience,” was released in April 2024.
Even Modi is surprised by his newfound fame, often crediting much of his success to his husband, Leo, whom he famously met on the New York City subway in 2015.
“I always prayed for this,” he admitted. “My goal was to be a touring comedian, and then it happened. Plus, I gained a husband who, out of nowhere, took charge of the business side.”
The True Art of Knowing Your Audience
Linda Shaw had never before visited the Funny Bone, a comedy club nestled in a Columbus shopping mall. Yet, when Modi announced a show there, she made the drive from Cincinnati with a group of girlfriends and cousins.
Shaw, 56, was raised as a Conservative Jew by European parents. She married a non-Jewish man but ensured her daughters were raised within the Jewish faith.
She noted that much Jewish humor tends to ‘cast a negative light on Jewish life and being an observant Jew.’ Modi, however, is different.
“With him,” she explained, “you can laugh and truly embrace your Judaism.”
Modi’s opening act, a Christian comedian chosen for his ‘clean’ style, struggled to connect with this unique audience. His biggest laugh of the night came from an offhand question: ‘How many people here go to church?’ This highlights how Modi attracts a unique crowd not typically found at comedy clubs.
Modi then delivered a 90-minute performance filled with his popular routines. His fans credit his material for making them feel understood in a world where they often feel alienated. His jokes touched on popular ‘mission trips’ to Israel organized by American Jewish groups and the idiosyncrasies of Israeli tour guides.
He shared his personal experience of being in Israel on October 7th, recounting the air raid sirens and witnessing pop star Bruno Mars’s evacuation from their hotel in a convoy of vehicles.
Even amidst that harrowing, life-or-death situation, Modi’s comedic instincts were sharp, and he knew his audience.
“I told Leo, ‘Thank God they got Bruno Mars out of there!’” he recounted with a grin. “’If a bomb hits this entire building and both Bruno Mars and I die, I’ll get absolutely no press!’”