Monday the Rabbi Took Off

Chapter Nine

You are cordially invited to meet Rabbi and Mrs. Hugo Deutch and to wish godspeed to Rabbi and Mrs. David Small, who are leaving for an extended visit to the Holy Land. At the Temple Vestry. On Sunday, December 28. 4 to6VM?

So ran the invitation sent out to all members of the congregation. The job of drawing it up and arranging for printing and mailing had been assigned to Malcolm Slotnik, who was in the advertising business (Creative Communications by Slotnik. Direct Advertising a Specialty) and presumably was expert in this kind of thing.

There were objections, of course, when he submitted his draft to the board.

Bert Raymond said. "Gee. Mai. I had in mind something like. 'You are cordially invited to a reception in honor of...' you know, something formal."

"Where you been. Bert? That's from the Middle Ages. Today everything is simple and informal. You send the other kind of invitation and people are apt to show up in tuxedo or something."

"Maybe you're right. Mai." said Marty Drexler, "but you don't say who Rabbi Deutch is. I mean you ought to say something like...'ta-da, ta-da, ta-da to meet our new rabbi ta-da. ta-da, ta-da. '"

"Yeah, but then folks might get the idea that Rabbi Small was leaving for good."

"So?" Marty smiled and glanced at Bert Raymond.

"So, then there'd be a lot of questions and we might find ourselves having to do a lot of explaining. You take Al Becker, he's one of the rabbi's strongest supporters. Now. I got the Becker Ford-Lincoln account, and—"

"Yeah. I see your point." said Raymond. "As a matter of fact. I just started doing some of Meyer Paff s law work and I don't know how he'd take it either."

Stanley Agranat suggested that they ought to say. "our beloved rabbi."

"Since when is he your beloved rabbi?"

"Yeah, but they always say it."

"Only at funerals."

They stood at one end of the vestry, the two rabbis and their wives, waiting for the guests to arrive. It was early yet, and members of the Sisterhood were still busy with last-minute details, stacking cups and saucers, setting out plates of cookies and sliced cake, and arguing over the arrangement of the flowers and decorations. Every now and then one of the women would appeal to the rabbis' wives for an opinion, either because by virtue of their position, they constituted the court of highest authority or merely as an excuse to talk to the new rebbitzin.

The few members of the board who were present stood in a small group out of the way of the bustling women, casting occasional glances in the direction of the two rabbis, who were left to themselves on the assumption that they had professional matters to discuss. They could not help noting the difference between the two men. Whereas Rabbi Small was of medium height and thin and pale. Rabbi Deutch was tall and erect and ruddy with broad shoulders. And he was handsome, too, with a high forehead surmounted by white hair which appeared even whiter in contrast with his black silk yarmulke. He had an aquiline nose and sensitive mouth framed by an iron-gray mustache and imperial. When he spoke, his deep baritone voice came out in the measured tones of the professional speaker, quite unlike Rabbi Small's voice, which even in the pulpit was flat and matter-of-fact. None of them actually voiced their comparison of the two, but it was obvious from the enthusiastic agreement they gave when Bert Raymond remarked. "He certainly looks good." And it was plain they all concurred when Marty Drexler added. "Now. that's my idea of what a rabbi should look like."

The women were just as delighted with Mrs. Deutch as the men were with her husband. She. too. was tall with gray hair, which was brushed up in back and held in place by a comb. The effect was of a tiara, and it gave her an aristocratic, almost queenly appearance. And withal, she was so simple and democratic. When the president of the Sisterhood presented the officers of the organization to her, she said, "You know, girls, I'd never say it to Hugo, of course, but the plain fact is that it's the Sisterhood that runs the temple." They were enchanted.

They all liked Miriam Small, but in the way they might like the college girl in bobby socks and loafers next door who might occasionally baby-sit for them. Beside Betty Deutch she seemed not merely young, but immature.

When they came up to ask their advice about where the decorative candlesticks should be placed. Miriam said. "Oh, I'd put them near the middle of the table so they won't be in the way of the pourers at either end." Betty Deutch. on the other hand, stood back to get a better view of the table, came forward to move the candlesticks to the end of the table, went back to survey the effect, and then said. "This way they're far enough from the end so they won't bother the pourers too much, and the effect is to make the table seem longer. Don't you think so. girls?"

Their ready agreement carried the clear implication that it was Mrs. Deutch who was now the rebbitzin. Noticing it. Mrs. Deutch put her arm through Miriam's, and as they strolled back to where their husbands were standing, she whispered. "In matters that don't mean very much one way or another. I make it a point always to agree with the gals of the Sisterhood and to encourage them to do what they want to do."

"And how many do you get at a Friday evening service. Rabbi?" Rabbi Deutch was asking.

"Anywhere from fifty to seventy-five usually."

Rabbi Deutch pursed his lips. "Out of a membership of almost four hundred families? Hrara. Do you do any advertising?"

"Just the announcement in the press."

"Ah. well, in addition to the press release, we've always sent out postcards to arrive in Friday's mail. I’ve found that very effective. Also. I always try to pick an intriguing title for my sermon. That helps, believe me. Something topical—"

"Like sex?" asked Rabbi Small innocently.

"As a matter of fact, sex in the Talmud was the title of one of my sermons. We got quite a turnout on that one."

The women now joined them. "I suppose you're planning to do a lot of touring when you first arrive in Israel." said Mrs. Deutch.

"We haven't made any plans, to tell the truth." said Rabbi Small.

"David isn't much of a one for touring," Miriam explained. "Rabbi Small is a scholar." said Rabbi Deutch. "It's my guess that he'll be spending most of his time at the university library."

"I hadn't thought of it." said Rabbi Small. "I'm working on a paper, but I’ve already done the research."

"You mean you have no special plans for your stay?" asked Deutch.

"Just to live there."

"Oh." It hardly seemed reasonable to Rabbi Deutch, and he concluded that his colleague was being secretive.

There was an awkward pause, and then Betty Deutch thought to ask. "Do you have family in Israel?"

"David has no one. I have an aunt there. She's the one who got us our apartment in Jerusalem, in Rehavia."

"Oh, that's a nice section. My brother Dan is in Jerusalem now. If you like. I could give him your address. He's been to Israel many times, lived there for about a year the last time. He knows the city well and could show you around."

"That's Dan Stedman, the journalist?"

"Yes, He's doing a book on the country. His son. Roy, is there, too. at the university."

"How nice. Is he doing graduate work?"

"Oh, no." said Betty Deutch, "he's quite young. He's at Rutgers and is taking his junior year abroad."

"By all means give your brother our address." said Rabbi Small. "We're at Five Victory Street, care of Blotner. Your brother and nephew might like a Sabbath meal family style once in a while."

"Oh, Dan will appreciate that." She jotted down the address. "I'll write him in the next day or two."

Bert Raymond came hurrying up. "They're beginning to arrive," he said. "Now I suggest that I stand here, and as they come in. I'll introduce them to you. Rabbi Small, and

"I think they know me," said Rabbi Small dryly. "Why don't you have Rabbi and Mrs. Deutch stand next to you and after you introduce the guests to them, they'll move on and perhaps say good-bye to us."

"Yeah. I guess you got a point there. Let's do it that way." The couples shifted places and just in time for Raymond to call out to the first people that came through the door: "Hyuh, Mike. Rabbi Deutch, I want to present Myer Feldman. one of the mainstays of the temple. And Rosalie. Rabbi Deutch, our new spiritual leader, and Mrs. Deutch."

For an hour Raymond presented the members of the congregation. Rabbi Small was amazed to learn how many were "mainstays" or "pillars" or at the very least, "terrific workers." They came in a steady stream for an hour, and then it slacked off, and the rabbis and their wives felt free to circulate among the guests. The Smalls soon found themselves at the opposite end of the room from the Deutches. People sought them out to wish them a safe journey, to suggest places that they should be sure to see, to give them travel tips they had found useful, to press on them the names of friends and relatives, all of whom seemed to be important people who would be overjoyed to entertain them.

Shortly before six. Miriam, mindful of her commitment to the baby-sitter who was taking care of Jonathan, suggested they ought to get started.

"I guess it's all right." said Rabbi Small. "They're really here to see Rabbi and Mrs. Deutch."

They made their way to the Deutches and shook hands and wished each other luck. "And when do you leave for Israel?" asked Rabbi Deutch.

"Thursday."

"Oh, I was hoping we might get to see each other again, but we'll be going back to Connecticut for a couple of days."

"We'll be busy, too," said Rabbi Small.

"And don't worry about your congregation." said Mrs. Deutch. "Hugo will take good care of them." She hesitated. "You're not worried about the bombings, are you?"

"Here or there?"

"Oh, that's good." She pulled at her husband's arm.

"I just asked Rabbi Small if he were worried about the bombings, dear, and he said, 'Here or there?'"

Her husband looked at her expectantly.

"You know"— a hint of impatience in her voice—"the bombings on the campuses here."

"Haw-haw, of course. Very good. Rabbi. And a proper commentary on our society. A very good title for a sermon, too. Do you mind if I use it?"

Rabbi Small grinned. "With my compliments. Rabbi."

Rabbi Deutch offered his hand again. "Well, go in peace and come home in peace." he said in Hebrew. He chuckled. "Here or there. Very good."

As they drove home. Miriam asked. "Well, what do you think of them?"

"They seem to be all right. I didn't get much chance to talk to them."

"They're pros. David."

"Pros?"

"Professionals. I'll bet they won't have any trouble with the congregation or with the board. They know just what to say at all times and how to say it. They'll have the congregation eating out of their hand— and liking it."

Later, much later, for they had gone to the Raymonds for a bite of supper, when they were back in their hotel room and getting ready for bed. Betty Deutch asked. "Did you get the feeling, dear, that the Smalls might be having some trouble with their congregation or at least with some of the board members?"

Hugo Deutch neatly placed his jacket on a hanger. "I've been getting hints to that effect from the president and that close friend of his— what's his name? Drexler— ever since we’ve met. It's too bad. There's a technique to handling a congregation, and Rabbi Small hasn't learned it yet, I'm afraid. I'm not sure that he ever will." He unlaced his shoes and put on his house slippers. "He's a scholar, you know. He published a paper on Maimonides a few years back— I never read it, but I heard some complimentary remarks about it. Well, that kind frequently are not very good at leading a congregation. They're in the wrong business, and sometimes they realize it early enough and switch to their proper work— teaching, research— and sometimes they hang on. draining their energy doing something they cannot do well and probably don't even enjoy."

His wife smiled. "Perhaps he'll realize it after he's been in Israel away from it all for a few months."