Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home (5 page)

“But now we live in a more complex society, and that calls for different rules, or perhaps for a new interpretation of the old rules. We know now that when large segments of our population have inadequate food and clothing and shelter – that is a form of murder. When we prevent the Negro from stating his case and protesting his true predicament, that is a form of bearing false witness. That when our young men are not permitted to listen to the voices of their own conscience and we force them to do the will of the majority, then you are setting up another god, the god of the Establishment. What I’m saying is that the true function of a temple – or a church, for that matter – is to see that the society of its time is workable, and in these days that means taking the lead in matters like civil rights and social justice and international peace.”

Brennerman adjusted his yarmulke on his head. “I would like to see our temple take a positive stand on all these matters and make our voice heard. I would like to see our temple pass resolutions on these matters and then notify the daily press of our stand and send copies to the state legislature and to our representatives in Congress.

“And I would have us do more. When our Negro brothers picket for social justice, I would like to see a team from this temple right there with them. And when there are hearings held on various social matters, I would like to see a group from this temple down at the hearing room making it plain that we regard these as religious matters.

“What’s more, I would like us to appropriate monies to be

set aside in a special Social Action Fund so that we could make contributions – as a temple – to various worthy causes, like the Poverty March on Washington, legal aid for political prisoners in the South, and yes, even on occasion to support candidates for public office who represent our views and who are running against opponents who are known reactionaries and bigots.

“My attitude on this is no secret and comes as no surprise to you, because it is the platform on which I campaigned for the presidency of the Brotherhood, and it is the platform on which the present administration of the temple campaigned. And the fact of our election indicates that the majority of the congregation agrees with us and has given us a mandate to go ahead. And our platform can be stated in a few words: The job of the temple is to help make democracy work.

“As I said, none of this is a surprise to you, because we have been urging it all along. But it is one thing to urge and another thing to implement. So tonight I would like to announce the first step in our new temple program. We feel that democracy should start at home. So instead of the old system of reserved seats where the best ones always went to the same few individuals, we are going to institute a system of no reservations in the sanctuary, with seating on a first-come, first-served basis. Our president, Ben Gorfinkle, felt it only fitting that I should make the announcement, since the Brotherhood furnishes the ushers for the High Holidays.”

There was an excited buzzing in the congregation. But Brennerman went on. “Now, I know that not every member of the congregation or of the Brotherhood, for that matter, agrees with us on our idea of the function of a temple. I know that there are those who feel that a temple should be just a place where you go to recite prayers and go through ritual motions. I think they are the same kind of people who were worried when Moses went up on the mountain and insisted that Aaron make the golden calf. They are the people who are not interested in a real commitment, who are afraid of getting involved in controversy. What they want is a religion where you go through a bunch of religious motions. I consider that akin to the worship of the golden Paff – I mean calf. (Loud sniggers.) And I consider that golden” – he paused, as if to make sure that this time he got it right – “calf religion.” He went on for some minutes longer, comparing what he called real religion and calf religion. And each time he was exaggeratedly careful of his pronunciation. He ended up with a call for unity “so we can make this the best religious organization on the North

Shore.”

He returned to his seat beside Gorfinkle, who rose and gravely offered him the customary congratulatory handshake. But after they were seated again, behind the concealment of his prayer book, Gorfinkle touched the tip of his forefinger to his thumb to form an O to indicate his unqualified approval.

“Hello there. Hughie m’boy. Tis your old friend Kevin O’Connor.”

“Uh-huh.” Hugh Lanigan, chief of the Barnard’s Crossing police force, did not like to be called Hughie, and he did not particularly like Kevin O’Connor, chief of the neighboring Lynn force. He regarded him as a professional Irishman, even a stage Irishman, since he was American-born and the brogue obviously was put on. The most he would allow was that it might have political advantages in Lynn.

“You’ll be going to the Police Chiefs’ spring dance, won’t you, Hughie?”

“Haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Well. I wish you’d let me put your name down now. I’m on the committee, and I’d like to make a good showing.”

“I’ll let you know, Kevin.”

“You don’t have to send in the form.” Lanigan was amused to note all traces of brogue had vanished. “Just give me a call, and I’ll be happy to put your name down, and you can send me the money anytime you think of it.”

“Okay; Kevin.”

But the other was not yet finished. “Oh, and by the by, would you happen to be knowing an individual name of Paff, a resident of your lovely town, a kind of a Jew type?”

“Meyer Paff?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yes, I know him.” said Lanigan cautiously. “What do you want to know about him?”

“Oh, just the usual. Is he a respectable citizen? Have you ever had any dealings with him – in the way of business, you might say.”

“He’s well thought of here in town. No police record of any kind, if that’s what you mean. What’s he done?” But already Lanigan had scribbled the name on a memorandum pad.

“Well now. I don’t know that he’s done anything. But he owns a bowling alley here.”

“He owns half a dozen in cities and towns along the North Shore.” said Lanigan.

“I know, but none in Barnard’s Crossing.” It sounded like an accusation.

“We don’t have one here, but the one in Salem is near enough. What’s wrong with the bowling alley in Lynn?”

“Well.” said O’Connor, “some of the kids who have been smoking pot and have given us a little trouble, that’s one of their regular hangouts.”

“And you think he might be pushing the stuff?” Lanigan scratched out the name on the pad. “I can’t picture him in the part. He’s one of the big shots in the local temple, for one thing.”

“Well now, Hughie, did you ever think that might be a kind of cover-up?”

“No, I haven’t, but I’ll think about it – when I’ve nothing better to do.”

“You’ll have your little joke, won’t you. And down there, aren’t you troubled with it?”

“With pot? We’ve had some.” said Lanigan cautiously. “As near as we can make out, it seems to be coming in from Boston.”

“Well, if anything comes to you, any bit of gossip about this Paff. I’d appreciate your letting me know.”

“Ye can bank on it. Kevin m’boy.” Lanigan banged the receiver down and glared at the instrument for a moment. Then he chuckled.

“Nice sermon. Ted.” said Meyer Paff. Most of the congregation had already filed out of the sanctuary to go down to the vestry, where a collation had been prepared. Paff, standing athwart the middle aisle, had waited for Brennerman and Gorfinkle, who were making their way from the pulpit.

“Did you really like it?” asked Brennerman eagerly, too eagerly.

“Sure, I liked it fine.” Paff said in his deep rumble. “All through it I was thinking – here we’re paying the rabbi a big salary. For what? To give sermons mostly. The rest of his job – making little speeches to the Bar Mitzvahs, marrying people, visiting the sick – we could have the cantor do it or the president. The one thing was the sermons. And now you prove that any fresh young punk can do just as well.”

“Now look here –”

“This is no place to pick a fight, Meyer,” said Gorfinkle quietly.

“Who’s fighting?” Several tailenders of the congregation filing out stopped to listen. “Would I fight in the sanctuary? Believe me. I wasn’t brought up that way. I’d as soon get up in the pulpit and insult one of the members.”

“Insult? Who was insulted?” asked Gorfinkle.

“I don’t know. Maybe Doc Edelstein. He doesn’t favor the temple getting into politics. I doubt he cared much for being called an idol worshiper. Or maybe he doesn’t know any better. He always thought he was a good Jew. He helped start this place and gave a lot of money to get it going. My friend Irving Kallen, he wasn’t here tonight, but he gave a lot of money: too, for this temple. And maybe you don’t know it but the Kallen Family Fund has made a contribution to the NAACP for years. But Irv Kallen never suggested that because he wanted to. I had to.

“You are talking about some of the seats that have little nameplates on them. I don’t suppose you happened to notice, but on that stand you were talking from and on the reader’s desk behind you and on the very chair you were sitting on, there was a little brass plate telling that it was contributed by the Kallen Family Fund, all the pulpit furniture, including the ark and the public address system you were talking through. Maybe he wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to give it if he had known some young wise guy was going to use it to call him a worshiper of the golden calf.”

“Money isn’t everything.” said Gorfinkle, “and it doesn’t give you the right –”

“Sure. I know money isn’t everything. Some people can talk and make speeches instead. I didn’t go to college like you boys. I grew up in the streets, but I learned a couple of things there. One was talk is cheap. And when some wise guy would sound off about something he claimed to know for sure, we would say. ‘Put your money where your mouth is.’”

“Well, let me tell you –”

“I just want to ask you one question. Ted. It’s about your sermon. I’m not going to ask you what the purpose of it was. That was pretty clear: The temple is growing; it’s getting too big for the both of us. Maybe you think it would be better for all concerned if you cut it down some in size.”

“I didn’t –”

“No. what I want to ask you is, in your sermon, in laying down the law the way you did, did you think of yourself as Moses? Or God?”

There were less than twenty-five present Friday evening in the tiny Hillel House chapel, and Rabbi Small suspected that some of them were Gentiles. One who sat well in back certainly was not Jewish, since he was dressed in black and wore a Roman collar. The rabbi assumed he was the director of the Newman Club at the college, and so it turned out when he approached him at the end of the service and introduced himself. Father Bennett was a youngish-looking man of thirty, slim and boyish, and he laughed easily.

“Scouting the opposition. Father?” the rabbi teased.

The priest laughed. “For a while. I thought you might need me to round out your minyan. Is that the word?”

“That’s the word. The attendance was rather disappointing.”

“Actually, I’m surprised you got as many as you did. The great majority of students left this afternoon or earlier – right after their last class. Not that Rabbi Dorfman draws crowds, you understand. For that matter, I figure I am getting only about a quarter of the students I should,” he added hastily, as if to avoid any disparagement of Rabbi Dorfman. “In our case, it’s understandable: The church is in a state of flux; we’re trying to modernize. But so many of our young people are holding back, as though waiting to see which road the church will take. They don’t accept blindly; they question and discuss and argue.”

“And you find this disturbing?”

“Not at all.” said the priest quickly. “But much that they question we are not in a position to answer. Take the matter of birth control. So many of our Catholic students come from large families. In most cases, they are the first of their families to go to college. Well, you know from hearing them talk that they aren’t planning to have six or seven children; two or three at the most, and that means birth control.”

“Well?”

“Of course, upper-income Catholics have been doing it for years. In the higher social levels the large family is the exception, rather than the rule. But these young people are frightfully sincere. If the church establishes a regulation that runs counter to their common sense, they won’t just disregard it, as other generations have done.

They’re more apt to disassociate themselves from the church completely.”

“Young people grow wiser or at least more tolerant as they grow older.” said the rabbi.

“Perhaps,” said Father Bennett, “although frankly, I’m hoping the church will grow more tolerant, too. On this matter of birth control, for instance, the committee the Pope set up to study the question, opinion was overwhelmingly in favor of permitting the use of the pill.”

“But the Pope has come out against the pill.”

“For the present, yes. But there’s a good chance one of these days he may change the doctrine.”

The rabbi shook his head. “He can’t. He really can’t.”

The priest smiled. “It’s not a dogma, you know, and the church is a very human institution.”

“It’s also a very logical institution, and the question of birth control impinges on the sanctity of marriage, which is a dogma.”

“And what is your position?”

“Well, we regard monogamous marriage as a highly artificial institution which is nevertheless the best system we have for organizing society. It is like a legal contract, which can be broken by divorce in the event that it becomes impossible for the two principals to continue. But with you, marriage is a sacrament and marriages are made in heaven. You can’t permit divorce, because that would suggest that heaven had erred, and that is unthinkable. The best you can afford is annulment – a kind of legal fiction that it never happened.”

They had left Hillel House and were strolling along the neat campus walk. Now they had arrived in front of the Dorfman home. “And how do you see birth control affecting our teaching on marriage?” asked Father Bennett.