Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

Chapter Forty-Five

In company Pearl Jacobs was gay, almost giddy, but in the privacy of her home, with her family, she could be sober and shrewd. When her husband had finished describing the meeting of the parents at the rabbi’s study, she said, “I don’t understand why the rabbi called you. I should think it would be Gorfinkle he’d call. He’s the president.”

“He said it was because our Bill was the only one who had been involved with the affair from beginning to end, but of course, his real reason was that he was probably embarrassed about calling Ben Gorfinkle after he had threatened to give him the ax.”

“I’ll bet Ben wouldn’t be elected now if he were to run.”

“Why? Because he ticked off the rabbi? You think he’s so popular?”

“No. I mean. I don’t know how popular the rabbi is. I know he doesn’t have a special following. And some of those parents may feel sore at him for getting the kids to tell the police what they knew.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “I felt that way myself when I first heard of it, but then I realized it was bound to come out sooner or later. Besides, I didn’t like the idea of a murderer running around loose and—”

“What’s that got to do with Ben Gorfinkle?” said her husband patiently.

She looked at him in surprise. “Simply that a lot of the girls feel that this fight in the congregation he started is not such a good idea.”

“Yes, but the girls don’t vote.”

“Maybe not.” she said, “but a lot of them can influence those who do vote, and in Reform congregations they do vote, and I think it’s a good idea. Anyway, a lot of the women I talked to, they don’t like the idea of building an organization like this and then breaking it in two over a silly business of who is to sit where.”

“Look, Pearl, I hope you don’t talk that way outside. We weren’t trying to split the organization. And it isn’t over the seating business; that’s just incidental. We have a program and a damn good program, and at every step of the way we were blocked by Paff and his group. Since we can’t get them to agree, wouldn’t it be better if the two views, the two philosophies, should each have their own machinery for doing what they consider important, instead of each preventing the other from doing anything?”

“Isn’t that just like a man?” She shook her head. “You say we don’t want to split; we just want to do the things that cause a split. And that satisfies your conscience. Well, let me tell you that women are a lot more realistic. You’re like a bunch of kids who think if you don’t give it a name, it doesn’t exist. But you know what a split does? It isn’t just that you get two temples where you only had one before. It means that you get two groups that tend to keep away from each other. The people of one temple tend to stay away from the people of the other temple. It doesn’t make so much difference to the men—they’re away all day, and most evenings they’re too tired to do anything. But the women are around here all day long. Take me and Marjie Arons; we’re both in Women’s League. And we’re close. All right, the temple splits, and I’m in one temple and Marjie is in the other. Don’t you think that will put up a wall between us?”

“But we don’t see them socially, anyway,” he protested.

“We don’t as a couple see them as a couple because you don’t like him, and I’m not crazy about him either. But Marjie and I see each other. And how about the kids?”

“What about them?” he asked.

“Well, if there are two temples, there will be different affairs, and the kids from one temple will feel funny about going to affairs from the other place. Here’s Bill out in this dinky little college in a town in Minnesota that nobody has ever heard of. From what he tells me, there are less than a dozen Jewish families in the whole town and practically no eligible Jewish girls. Do you think that doesn’t worry me? But at least when he comes home for his vacations here, there are plenty of Jewish girls. He can play the field. And you now want to cut off half of them. Do you want your son to marry a Gentile, God forbid?”

“Come on, Pearl, you’re making a big deal—do you think if Bill wants to take a girl out, he’s going to bother about what temple her folks go to?”

“No,” she said, “but he’ll have less chance of meeting them.”

“Well, a temple is not a matrimonial bureau.”

“There are lots worse things that it could be, especially in a Yankee town like Barnard’s Crossing. Why do you suppose the Sisterhood works so hard to make a go of it? You think it’s so that you men can go there two or three times a year to mumble your prayers? We put on bazaars, and we put on shows. We have luncheons and brunches and whatnot. We have a big educational program. And at the end of the year, we hand the temple organization a whopping big check. We do it. I suppose, because some of it is fun and keeps us busy. But Marjie Arons does it partly to increase the chances of her Sue marrying a Jewish boy, and I do it to help insure that Bill marries a Jewish girl.”

“The rabbi—”

“He doesn’t know any more about it than you do. He’s a man, too. I’ll bet the rebbitzin understands though.”

“I see.” Jacobs said with a laugh. “And how long have you girls been plotting? When do you plan to take over?”

“Who needs it? You men want to run things? Go ahead. Big shots! You’re like kids with a toy. You play with it, and then you get tired of it and leave it lying around or break it. You go ahead and plan and appoint committees, take votes, pass resolutions, make—what did Ben Gorfinkle call it?—‘an active voice for social reform in the community’ or what the rabbi is always talking about, ‘a house of study and prayer’—but don’t break it. Because it isn’t only for you; it’s for us—and for the kids.”

“I see, so the kids are in on it, too?” he asked sarcastically.

“Don’t run down the kids. Sometimes they show more sense than their parents. Our Bill is no fool. He was talking to me about it. He was concerned that the rabbi might leave. Now the kids like him and respect him. That’s why Bill told the police—because the rabbi said he ought to, and Bill trusted him.”

“Does Mrs. Paff think the way you do?”

“She has no children, so she doesn’t feel about these things the way I do, I suppose. But Paff himself—if I were in his business that depends so much on kids. I wouldn’t go out of my way to antagonize them.”