invited to submit. You’ll hear around that Mort Schwarz is only interested in the buck, but I assure you I didn’t care about this commission for the money in it. I wouldn’t have charged them one red cent beyond my out-of-pocket expenses. But not a whisper, not a murmur. After a while, I swallowed my pride and made a few inquiries and was told the project was still a long way off-they were holding things close to their chests, the gang that was in power the first year. And the next thing I knew, they had engaged Christian Sorenson, a Gentile if you please, to build the temple. You get it? I can’t serve on the Building Committee because I’m an architect and would naturally be called on to submit a design, and then I’m kept from submitting a design.”
Miriam shook her head sympathetically.
“I’m not blaming Jake Wasserman. He’s all right, threw me a bone, as a matter of fact, and put me on the Board because of all the work I’d done for the temple-but that runaway Building Committee… Did you ever stop to think, Rabbi, what it means to a Jewish architect? The anti-Semitism that was common, at least up until recently, in medicine, or in banking, or in big business-it was nothing compared to my field, architecture. It’s a little better now, I understand, but do you know what chance a Jew had of getting placed with one of the big firms of architects? Just exactly zero, and it wouldn’t make any difference if he were top man in his class, yes, and was willing to start as a draftsman.”
“I had no idea it was that bad,” said Miriam.
“You bet, and it was the time of the Depression, too, which didn’t help any. But you struggle and somehow or other you serve your apprenticeship and you get your experience, and you finally take the plunge and open up your own office. You’re full of ideas and artistic ideals. You want to build something worthwhile, that people will see, that might be written up and pictured in architectural journals. You’re trying to make a reputation. And what do you get? A block of stores, a job of redesigning standard plans for a bunch of cracker boxes in a cheap real-estate development like Colonial Village, a factory, a warehouse. And it can’t be experimental because then your client starts to worry whether the bank will advance the mortgage money, or whether it won’t detract from the price if he should want to sell.”
“But isn’t that true of many people?” the rabbi asked gently. “They have to compromise to make a living.”
“Right, Rabbi. It’s a living and you’re not hungry anymore, but suddenly you’re fifty years old. You’re not a youngster anymore and you’re drawn a lot of plans in your time, and you’re not satisfied. And then your chance comes along. Your own community is going to build a temple. In the trade journals you’ve seen pictures of big new projects, some of them designed by people you went to school with and didn’t think much of. Now at last you’ve got a chance to show what you can do. And what happens? They bring in a phony, and because he’s associated with a well-known firm that has built a couple of churches he gets the job.”
“Well-”
“But now I’m president of the temple, and that makes me chairman ex officio of the Building Committee and I will not be denied.” And he slammed his hand down on the table.
The rabbi was embarrassed by the president’s emotion. “But a building like that, I would imagine would cost a lot of money.”
“Old man Goralsky will provide it. I’m sure of it. I’ve spoken to him; I’ve described and explained my design, and he likes the idea.”
“And do we really need it?”
“How can you talk that way, Rabbi? It isn’t a matter of mere need. This is a thing of the spirit. For a community to build an edifice like this is an act of religious dedication. Visit the great cathedrals of Europe and ask yourself how many were actually needed. Ethel and I went to Europe last summer with the Wolffs. Took the grand tour, and believe you me it was an eye-opener. And you know what really got me-me a believing Jew and president of a temple, at that? The churches, the cathedrals! And not just because of the architecture, although naturally that interested me. It was something else. You’d come into some church like Santa Croce in Firenze- that’s Florence-and on the walls there are Giotto frescoes, and the ceilings are painted beams, and the walls are lined with tombs of famous artists and scientists-Michelangelo, Rossini, Galileo-Charlie Wolff said to me, and he’s only a dress manufacturer, ‘Mort, that was to me a religious experience.’ And I felt the same way. And Ethel did too, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I did, Rabbi. I felt-how shall I put it-spiritually uplifted.”
“So I thought, why them and not us? Why can’t we-why can’t I-build a temple that will give our people some of that same feeling, that same uplift, as Ethel says? That’s something that’s been missing in our temples. The old ones are nothing and the new ones are like Sorenson’s phony designs.”
“Sometimes,” the rabbi said slowly, “we tend to confuse aesthetic with religious experiences.”
“I’m afraid, Ethel,” said Schwarz with a bitter smile, “our rabbi is not too enthusiastic about our project.”
The rabbi colored. “It would be hypocritical of me if I were to say I had no interest in the appearance and size of the synagogue where I was serving. The physical plant is a rough indication of the size and importance of the community, and naturally as a young man not without ambition I prefer to be associated with a large, growing, vigorous community rather than one on the decline. When friends of mine, former classmates at the seminary, come to visit me, I am not unmindful of their appreciation of our synagogue with all that implies. But size for the sake of size? When there is no need? Not even in the foreseeable future? Barnard’s Crossing is a small community, and even at Kol Nidre, when temples and synagogues are traditionally crowded, we have empty seats. And that is only one night in the year.
“That you want to perform an act of spititual dedication does you great credit, Mr. Schwarz, but it is only fair to point out that what you propose is not in the general direction of our tradition. Those churches, full of marvelous statues and paintings-to the worshipers they are holy. The buildings themselves are holy. The ground on which they stand is hallowed ground. But this is not our way. We are subject to the commandment, Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven image. Our synagogues and temples-the piles of masonry, I mean-are not in themselves holy, only the words that are said there. For a long time, we got along very well housing the Ark of the Lord in only a tent.”
“I’m not interested in sermons, Rabbi,” said Schwarz coldly. “Are you trying to tell me that you plan to tout Goralsky off the project?”
“I certainly have no intention of seeking him out, but if he were to ask my opinion I would have to be candid with him.”
“You’d say you were opposed to it?”
The rabbi temporized. “It would depend on what he asked.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“If he were to ask if I had any objection to the new chapel I would tell him, of course, that adding it to the main structure is not contrary to either our doctrine or our tradition.” He shrugged. “If, however, he were to ask if I thought it necessary, I could not in all conscience say I did. And if he were to ask if I thought it was a worthy project, a worthy use of the money, I would have to tell him that I could think of dozens of uses to which the money could be better put.”
“Of all the smug, sanctimonious!-” Schwarz shook his head angrily. “You know, that’s what comes of giving a man too much security. When they first proposed giving him a five-year contract, I opposed it, and by God I knew what I was doing.”
“He doesn’t mince words, our rabbi,” said Ethel as she loaded the dishwasher. “What I don’t understand is that it’s all meant for him. I mean, that sanctuary would really be his-I’d think he’d like his own chapel instead of the public auditorium.”
“That’s just the point. In a sense I
“Well, I don’t know what he had in mind, but it seems pretty bad manners on his part. I mean, as our guest, the least he could have done was say it was nice. Even if he didn’t like it, he could have been sort of noncommittal.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. That’s just my point. He went out of his way to be unnecessarily unpleasant. And that can only mean that he was opposing me on personal grounds. Maybe he’s sore about my voting against him on the new contract, and is trying to get back at me.”
“Do you think he’ll talk to Goralsky about it?”
“He’d better not, that’s all I can say. He’d better not. Because if he does, then contract or no contract, this
