Harry Kemelman - Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

“So what?” Brennerman was excited now. “And can we get him?”

“If we can raise his fee.” said Jacobs, “why not? Our money’s as good as the next guy’s.”

“And if we set up a Defense Committee, we can raise his fee.” said Brennerman, “if we go about it right.”

“We could solicit funds from the entire community.” said Epstein, “but it would have to be a temple project, not just something we as individuals are sponsoring.”

“And that ties right into our program!” exclaimed Brennerman.

“Now that presents problems.” said Gorfinkle, “because if we offer it as a temple project, the rabbi is going to have something to say about it. And right now, my stock isn’t exactly soaring with our rabbi. As a matter of fact, so far as he knows he’s on his way out at the next board meeting.”

“Yeah. I’m afraid you jumped the gun. Ben.” said Brennerman gloomily. “You shouldn’t have fired him—”

“I didn’t fire him.” said Gorfinkle. “I just warned him. And if this whole business hadn’t come up. I still think it was the right thing to do.”

“We all agreed to it. remember.” said Jacobs, “so don’t go blaming Ben.”

“Well, mind you. I’m not blaming you. Ben,” said Epstein, “but I’m inclined to think that regardless of the present situation, we acted too fast. I for one feel funny about it.”

To Gorfinkle this was criticism from an unexpected source. “What is it you feel funny about, Roger?” he asked quietly.

“I feel funny about the whole deal. I feel funny about me, a new man at this temple business, firing the rabbi, who’s been involved with it all his life. I feel funny about being chairman of the Ritual Committee. In a way, that’s what set the whole business off, but I certainly never thought it would split the congregation. If I had. I wouldn’t have let you talk me into it. Well, maybe it’s not too late to repair the damage. I’m bowing out as of right now.”

“Bowing out of what?” demanded Jacobs.

“I’m declining the nomination for chairman of the Ritual Committee. And I’m not waiting for you to announce it at the next board meeting. I think, considering what the nomination resulted in. I ought to tell the rabbi myself. It would be a good chance to get him behind this Defense Committee, and maybe he’ll figure a way to speak to Paff and his group and pull the pieces together.”

“You mean you think I ought to keep Paff as chairman? Is that your idea. Roger?” asked Gorflnkle.

“No. but I don’t see why you can’t get someone else, someone who’s neutral. How about Wasserman?”

“Yeah, how about Wasserman?” said Brennerman. “Well…”

They were playing halfheartedly, their minds not on the game. Quite early in the evening Irving Kallen pushed his chair back. “I’ve had enough,” he said. “I just can’t seem to get interested.”

“Once around?” asked Paff. “If you want.”

Dr. Edelstein pushed back from the table, too. “What’s the point. Meyer? Personally, I’d rather have a cup of coffee.”

“That’s easy enough.” said Paff. He tilted back his chair and called out to his wife in another room. “How about some coffee for the boys, Laura?” He gathered in the cards that were lying on the table and riffled them. “I was in Chelsea yesterday, and I bumped into this fellow I know—his brother is a rabbi, a real Orthodox type—and I happened to mention about somebody dying in a place that was going to be used for a synagogue. According to him, he didn’t think that ruled it out. He said he’d ask his brother, though.”

“Forget it. Meyer.” said Kermit Arons. “Hillson House is out. Remember, it wasn’t just somebody dying. After all, in our own temple, you remember Arthur Barron had a heart attack—was it two years ago?”

“Three years ago.” said Doc Edelstein. “But he didn’t die in the sanctuary. We took him to the hospital, and I pronounced him dead there.”

“It doesn’t make any difference. The point is that he just died. Here, you had a murder. It wouldn’t make any difference if the entire Board of Rabbis pronounced it okay. For years to come that house will be known as the place where somebody was murdered. Who’ll you get to join that kind of a temple? To tell the truth. I’d feel funny myself, wondering if my seat was where the kid got it.”

“So where does it leave us?” asked Paff.

“I guess right back where we started from.” said Kallen. He brightened. “You know, you didn’t plan it that way. Meyer. I mean that we should sit tight at the last meeting, but when you come right down to it, it was a smart move. If we had actually kicked up a fuss when Gorfinkle announced the new committees, we’d have to eat crow now.”

“I don’t see that there’s any real problem.” Edelstein offered. “Irv is right. We’re right back where we started from. We never made any official announcement about any new temple; we didn’t walk out when the new committees were announced. We sat tight, and we can continue to sit tight.”

“That’s right.”

“What the hell—”

“You want I should sit by and let those guys do just as they please?” demanded Paff.

“We’ll still be able to oppose them on the board.” said Edelstein.

“Yeah, fat lot of good that will do us where they’ve got a clear majority.”

“You mean they’re going to go ahead with calling for the rabbi’s resignation at the next meeting?” asked Edelstein. “Frankly, I think that’s pretty rotten after all the work he did for the kids, and—”

“What work?” asked Arons. “He got young Gorfinkle and young Jacobs to give their story to the cops. I personally think it was the right thing to do, but a lot of the parents of the other kids were pretty sore about it. I certainly don’t think Gorfinkle or Jacobs were too pleased. Fortunately, they got this colored guy, but if it hadn’t been for that—”

“Then you think they will go ahead with the resignation?” asked Edelstein.

“No-o.” said Arons. “I’m inclined to think they’ll let it rest for the time being. You see, where the case isn’t settled yet and the rabbi is such good friends with the police chief, it would be kind of foolish to let him go. My guess is that they’ll just wait until his contract runs out and then won’t renew.”

“By God, we’ll make them renew!” said Paff.

“Since when are you so keen on the rabbi?” asked Arons.

“I’m not.” snapped Paff. “Never was and never will be. But you’re missing the point.”

“What point? They’re going to drop him.”

“They’re going to try to drop him, you mean.” Paff amended.

“But they got a clear majority on the board.”

“Yes,” said Paff, “and there we can’t beat them. But the question of dropping a rabbi who has served the congregation for six years already, who has the respect of the Gentile community—that doesn’t have to be kept a strictly board matter. That’s something that the whole membership is interested in. Now. I don’t know how popular the rabbi is, but I know it’s a lot harder to fire somebody than it is to let him stay on. Nobody likes to fire.”

“So?”

“So that gives us an issue that we got a chance to win on. And if we win and the rabbi remains, we’ve evened up the odds, because when we oppose them, they just outvote us, but when he opposes them, he usually makes it a matter of ritual law or Jewish principle, and he sticks to it until they knuckle under.”

Edelstein smiled. Kallen considered the proposition and then nodded his agreement. Arons said, “It’s an idea, Meyer; it’s an idea.”