If Rabbi Solomon Schiffhadn’t entered the clergy, he might have killed in the Borscht Belt.

From his new memoir, Under the Yarmulke: Tales of Faith, Fun and Football, the joke that “Sol’’ Schiff told the former Shirley Miller of Chicago on their first date, in 1952:

“Do you know how they got the name Staten Island? When Columbus was crossing the ocean, he was looking for dry land to settle on. As he looked into the distance, he seemed to see land and asked, ‘Stat an Island?’’’

She married him anyway.

That was nearly six decades, three sons and seven grandchildren ago, during which Schiff, director emeritus of the Greater Miami Jewish Federation’s Chaplaincy Service and the Rabbinical Association of Greater Miami, became a respected national voice for interfaith harmony and human rights.

Along the way, Schiff developed a four-word motto — “Live and help live’’— and told a lot of groaners.

In the memoir, which he’ll read and sign on Wednesday at Books & Books in Bal Harbour, Schiff charts his evolution in those roles through memorable encounters with U.S. presidents, Israeli prime ministers, a Polish pope, a Spanish king, the Dalai Lama, an NFL franchise owner, and untold numbers of ordinary people, Jewish and otherwise.

His path to leadership began 82 years ago in Brooklyn, then wound through the Midwest to Miami Beach, where he became spiritual leader of the Orthodox Congregation Beth El in 1958.

He found himself in Israel, Jordan, Paris, Rome, Berlin, Warsaw, New York and on the South Pacific island of Fiji, giving benedictions on the floor of the U.S. Senate, in the White House, and on the football field once named for his good friend, late Miami Dolphins owner Joe Robbiewho flew Schiff and his son to the 1985 Super Bowl on his private plane.

He fought for a tax to improve Miami-Dade County’s services for the homeless, for a county “living wage’’ ordinance, and compensation for elderly Holocaust survivors.

He campaigned against the racist logo that the Colgate-Palmolive Co. used on a brand of toothpaste sold overseas, legal attempts to force a Christian minister to betray a parishioner’s confidences, and a community’s effort to ban a Buddhist temple — all successfully.

Schiff writes that when he was asked why an Orthodox rabbi would extend himself for another faith, he said that “by helping secure the rights of this small religious group, I helped secure and perpetuate the rights of all religious groups, including my own.’’

He worked with Protestant ministers to quell race riots in Miami, and with the Catholic Archdiocese to welcome Pope John Paul II in 1987, an effort that brought Jewish picketers to his home, protesting the Vatican’s reluctance to recognize the State of Israel or save more Jews during the Holocaust.

Schiff felt that meeting the pope was his best chance to influence him, and notes that eventually the pope did recognize Israel, declared anti-Semitism a sin, and apologized for the Church’s transgressions against Jews.

At the heart of his personal mission, Schiff writes, is the conviction that “it is only when we practice what we preach ... that we live up to our religious obligations to bring justice to all. This is the code of honor I adhere to and the struggle I have committed my life to on a daily basis.’’