Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

Chapter Seven

As Ted Brennerman strode to the pulpit the congregation settled back expectantly. He had a reputation as a “hot-shot” and a “character.” (“That Brennerman, he doesn’t care what he says; he gets away with murder.”) Leaning against the lectern in a manner obviously reminiscent of Rabbi Small, he announced. “Good evening, this is your friendly Rabbi Brennerman.” There was a titter of appreciation, and he went on, “Seriously, folks, I’ve done a lot of public talking in my time, but this is the first time I’ve had to give a sermon. Let me tell you, it sobers a fellow up.” There was another appreciative chuckle, for among the Brotherhood members Brennerman was reputed to know what to do with a bottle.

“So when I found that the program called for me to give the sermon, I asked our rabbi if I could borrow his sermon book. (Laughter.) Well, he claimed he didn’t have one, that he made them up himself. So I thought to myself, I know what to get you for your birthday. (Laughter.) Actually, no one here has a greater appreciation of our rabbi than I have. I consider him one of the wisest and most intelligent men I’ve met. And I guess he proved it when he arranged to play hookey tonight. (Laughter.)

“So since I didn’t get any help from our rabbi. I went over his head and consulted his boss. Moses himself. Always deal with the top man is my motto. I took down the family Bible and began to read in Exodus. I read it in English, because I didn’t happen to have my Hebrew glasses around. (Laughter.) Well, it was a revelation. And there’s no pun intended. We all know the story of the exodus from Egypt, the ten plagues, and all the rest of it from way back in Sunday school. But when you read it in the Bible, you really get an idea of what clowns Pharaoh and the Egyptians were. And I guess recent events in the Middle East tend to prove that they haven’t wised up very much in three thousand years. (Appreciative laughter.) Except that then they wanted us to stay, and now they want us to get out. Can’t they make up their minds what they want? (Laughter.)

“But then as I continued reading I discovered that our own folks weren’t an awful lot brighter. Get the picture: They had just been treated to as classy a demonstration of God’s power as had ever been displayed to mankind. Again and again, God had demonstrated that He regarded the children of Israel with special favor. He had plagued the land with flies and with locusts, with darkness and with death, and in each case the Israelites got off scot-free. Did they need any more proof positive? He gave it to them: He parted the waters of the Red Sea to let them pass. How did the Israelites react? You’d think that after all that they’d be four-square behind Moses. But no. as soon as they realized the Egyptians were after them, some of them—I’m sure it wasn’t all of them—began to crack wise at his expense. ‘Did you take us out here to die in the wilderness because they didn’t have any graves in Egypt?’ And to the other Israelites they said. ‘Don’t you remember? I told you we ought to stay in Egypt and serve the Egyptians. It’s better than dying in the wilderness.’ Now you all know God’s answer to that. When the Egyptians came along. He rolled the waters of the sea back again and drowned the lot of them.

“Did that end the griping? Did that end the doubt? Not by a long shot. It happened again and again. Anytime the situation wasn’t a hundred percent kosher, this bunch—and I’m sure it was the same bunch all the time—would begin acting up. It happened when they got to Marah and the available water was bitter. And again later on when rations were low and they yearned for the fleshpots of Egypt. That was when God sent down manna from the heavens. And later on when they ran out of water and they thought God was going to let them die of thirst. That was the time that Moses struck the rock with his rod and produced water. And then it happened again when Moses went up on the mount to receive the tables of the Law. When he didn’t come down right away, they were sure they had been abandoned, and they forced Aaron to make them an image of a golden calf so they could worship it.”

Brennerman’s tone had changed, and the congregation was giving him its full attention. “Now Moses had given them a set of laws. These weren’t laws of ritual and prayer; they were laws to live by, the laws necessary to maintain a workable society. It was a primitive society they had in those days, and they needed some pretty elementary ethical rules to make it work, laws like ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and ‘Thou shalt not steal’ and ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness.’ We all know that you can’t have a society where murder and stealing and bearing false witness are permitted or condoned. It would disintegrate overnight. Those laws were necessary for the society of that time to maintain itself and to grow and prosper. And isn’t that what our religion is essentially—a set of rules that men can live by?

“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.