photo by Samuel H. Gottscho from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York |
In the 1820s the Jewish population in
New York City was still relatively small; yet it was substantial enough to have
three separation congregations: Congregation Shearith Israel, the oldest;
Congregation B’nai Jeshurun; and Congregation Anshe Chesed. Composed of
German, Polish and Dutch Jews, Anshe Chesed was the youngest group, established
in 1828.
Congregation Anshe Chesed (People of Kindness) was made up
mostly of immigrants with little money or status. They worshiped in
rented rooms until 1842 when the old Quaker Meeting House at No. 38 Henry
Street was purchased and converted to a synagogue. Within a decade the
congregation grew to be the largest in America.
Anshe Chesed distinguished itself from other Manhattan congregations as well by
embracing the Reform Movement. But this change would not become fully
rooted until the group built a new, impressive synagogue on Norfolk Street in
1848. Here more reforms were put into
place—the introduction of a choir of both sexes, a pipe organ, and the allowing
of families to sit together during worship, for instance.
In 1872 the congregation
laid plans for another move—this time surprisingly far uptown. Land was purchased on the corner of southeast
corner of Lexington Avenue and 63rd Street. The New York Times explained “The congregation
formerly worshiped at the church in Norfolk-street, near Houston, but finding
the building insufficient for the increasing strength of the membership, they
decided to erect a new temple on the above-mentioned site.”
Prolific architects D.
& J. Jardine received the commission.
The brothers, David and James, would be active throughout the rest of
the century, designing commercial structures, rowhouses and mansions.
The cornerstone was laid on
July 3, 1872 with ceremonies that included “the singing of a chorale by a male
and female choir, accompanied by a brass band.”
In the box within the cornerstone were placed a history of the
congregation, several newspapers, a list of officials of the Federal
Government, State, County, and City, a list of the other Jewish congregations
in New York City, and a number of ancient and modern coins, including a Danish
token with Hebrew writing, among other items.
Consecrated on September
12, 1873, the $200,000 structure reflected the wealth and position of its
congregation. A mixture of Romanesque
and Victorian Gothic, it was 83 feet wide and stretched 120 feet along 63rd
Street. Brick, stone and terra
cotta joined forces to create a colorful, eclectic façade. A massive corner tower rose 135 feet above the
sidewalk, vying for attention with the gigantic stained glass rose window. A Moorish-inspired portico, supported by two
spindly stone columns greeted the congregation.
Capable of accommodating 1,400
worshipers, the interior was awe-inspiring.
Brilliantly-colored stenciling, inlaid woodwork, brass lighting fixtures and
ornate carving bordered on overwhelming.
photo by Samuel H. Gottscho from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York |
The side door of the temple
was opened at 3:00 for the consecration.
The Times reported “The seats were soon completely filled from floor to
gallery, many of the worshipers being in full evening dress, and all the males
sitting with their hats on, as is the custom of the orthodox Hebrews.”
Two months later, during
the week of December 21, 1873, meetings were held between Anshe Chesed and
Temple Adath Jeshurun “for the purpose of effecting a union of these two
congregations,” said The Times. The two
congregations “declared themselves in harmony with every principle enunciated
and proclaimed by reformed Judaism [and] prepared to adopt the most radical
measures to bring their worship to accord with modern ideas.”
The merger resulted in the
congregation Beth-El. On March 7, 1874
it rededicated the Lexington Avenue structure.
The New York Times reported “The splendid synagogue, or, as the modern
Jews call it, temple, at the corner of Sixty-third street and Lexington avenue,
which had been erected by the Congregation Anshi Chesed, formerly worshiping in
Norfolk street, and dedicated by them to the worship of the Almighty during the
last Summer, has passed into the hands of a new congregation, Beth El.”
Inlaid woodwork and brilliant stenciling added to the lavish interiors. photo by Samuel H. Gottscho from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York |
In his first sermon in this
temple, Rabbi Dr. Einhorn—who insisted on conducting services in English or
German rather than Hebrew—referred to the reform movement as one more step in
the freeing of the Jews. He discussed “every
allusion to the bondage of the Hebrews during the Middle Ages, as the reform
Jew of America believes that he is now freer from every physical bond.”
It would not be long before
a near-schism erupted between the two groups.
Prior to 1840 Anshe Chesed purchased a plot 25 by 100 feet on Sixth
Avenue between 45th and 46th Street which it used as a
burying ground. When the City outlawed
burials south of 83rd Street in 1851, the congregation established
another graveyard on 89th Street near Madison Avenue. That, too, was closed by the City for the
same reasons—health fears and property needs.
Having learned its lesson,
the congregation purchased a tract of land at Union Fields, Long Island to be
used as a cemetery. It was now being
used by the newly-combined congregations.
When some members realized
that the real estate of the old burial grounds in Manhattan was now worth
between $70,000 and $80,000, they proposed to move the bodies to Long Island
and sell the land. A permit for the
removal of the bodies was obtained from the Board of Health and a notice went
out to the congregants.
The reaction was swift and
angry from some.
“The old members of the
Anshi Chesed are bitterly opposed to this measure, on the ground that it is
contrary to their faith to disturb the bones of the dead. They also claim that the deeds for the lots
stand in their name, and that the congregation have no right to them.”
The proposal was “denounced
in the most indignant terms” as “desecration of the graves of their relatives
and friends,” said the newspaper. The
irate members promised to “use every lawful means to prevent what they consider
a wrong being done.”
Eventually the controversy
was put to rest when the defiant congregants lost their battle and the coffins
were moved.
On September 6, 1879 the temple
welcomed its new rabbi, the Rev. Dr. K. Kohler.
The Times reported “The Orientally-decorated interior of the Temple
Beth-El, with its slender Moorish columns, and windows of crimson and purple
and gold, has not held a larger congregation since it was dedicated, in 1873,
than that which assembled to hear the inaugural sermon of the Rev. Dr. Kohler
yesterday morning.”
Kohler made it perfectly
clear that he intended to continue the reforms of his retiring predecessor, Dr.
Einhorn. Saying that the 19th
century marked “one of the turning-points in the material, moral and
intellectual history of human kind,” he asked “ought Judaism alone remain
passive, hidden, as it were, in its little snail-house?”
He said that “good, honest
orthodoxy” had its face turned backward, and “has consequently been overtaken
by the swelling tide of modern ideas, which have undermined not only the outer
wall of the ghetto, but also the buttresses and the pillars of mediaeval
Judaism.”
Kohler announced that
services would be performed in English and German, on alternating weeks. The unrelenting opinions he espoused that day
would set the tone for decades of sermons to come. And his demand for nearly autocratic
authority would cause problems a few years later,
Two things occurred in 1886
that deeply offended the rabbi. The
first was the Board of Trustees independently deciding to look for an
assistant rabbi who spoke fluent English.
Rabbi Kohler was incensed when he learned of their action without
involving him.
The trustees wanted an
English-speaking rabbi to perform services on Sundays, rather than the Sabbath,
because many of the young members held jobs that required them to work
Saturdays.
Then, as Kohler prepared
for a convention of reform ministers in Cincinnati on June 16, the Trustees
requested a report on what he intended to do there. Rabbi Kohler did not feel he was required to
submit his plans nor to answer to the Board.
Around June 1 he sent a
letter to the Board of Trustees “in which he announced his intention of
resigning unless the Trustees accede to certain demands,” reported a newspaper.
Kohler expected his threat
to be met with acquiescence. He was no
doubt surprised when one of the leading members of the congregation, Gerson N.
Herrman, issued an announcement that intimated the resignation might be
accepted.
“Rabbi Kohler is an able
minister and a very intelligent man, but as heretofore I am opposed to his
doctrines because they are too radical and not positive enough, and I think he
was too hasty in proclaiming his resignation…We most assuredly need another
minister as an assistant, and I approve of having an English preacher. A special meeting of the Trustees was called,
which will convene to-morrow. Should the
Rabbi’s resignation be accepted, it will not take effect until next year.”
On June 6 the meeting was
held, its members being unanimous about looking for an English-speaking
assistant and in denouncing the rabbi’s rash reaction. Nevertheless, a committee of nine was
appointed to meet with Kohler.
Rabbi Kohler emerged victorious from
that meeting. The New York
Times reported on June 10 “The differences existing between the Trustees of the
Congregation Beth-El…and their rabbi, the Rev. K. Kohler, were yesterday
amicably adjusted.”
Kohler announced “It is to
be understood that the lectures at the temple will continue, as heretofore,
under my supervision, and, in the event of any appointment of an assistant minister,
such step will come under my jurisdiction.
As to the Cincinnati convention, the Board of Trustees has decided not
in any way to interfere with me.”
Kohler delivered a touching
and ecumenical tribute from his pulpit following the death of Rev. Henry Ward
Beecher, the renowned pastor of Brooklyn’s Plymouth Church. On March 12, 1887 he declared “When Abraham
died, the great men of the time, according to the Talmud, went about saying ‘The
world has lost its leader, the ship its Captain.’ So in the death of Henry Ward
Beecher the American Nation has lost one of its most gifted sons, one of its
most determined and powerful champions for liberty and humanity.”
Kohler’s insistence on
looking forward, rather than back, was evidenced in the titles of his
sermons. The same year that he honored
Henry Beecher, he preached on “Prejudice,” “Prohibition and Self Control,” “Evolution
and Morality,” and “Jew and Gentile: What is Going On?” among similar issues.
When the Supreme Court of
Wisconsin ruled in 1890 against the reading of the Bible in public schools,
Rev. Dr. K. Kohler responded in his sermon.
On March 23 he declared “It is both right and due of the Jewish citizen
to protest against such an encroachment as is the opening of the school with
either the Bible or the Lord’s Prayer, or of any of the public meetings or
legislative sitting under the emblems and forms of Christians. That is sectarian practice. Any religious exercise which does not include
all beliefs and convictions must be relegated to the Church, and has no
connection with the functions of the State, which are purely secular.”
In 1891 congregation
Beth-El moved again, selling its magnificent building to congregation Rodelph
Sholom. That congregation had been
founded on September 29, 1842 as an orthodox synagogue; but in 1874 had
embraced the reform movement. A
newspaper noted “it was decided to abolish some of the old-time, and now
meaningless, ceremonies and to introduce organ music.”
Dedication ceremonies were
held on the evening of September 4, 1891 after the temple had been “refitted
and renovated,” according to The New York Times.
The following year the
congregation celebrated its Golden Jubilee.
On December 17, 1892 Rabbi Dr. Wise delivered his sermon in German, on “Retrospective
Glances.” Tracing the congregation’s
history back 1,000 years, he said “Like Jacob, the congregation had reason to
thank God for the prosperity that had attended them. They saw their members on the judicial bench,
at the bar, and among the great merchants.
The children had all done well.”
The Congregation Rodeph
Sholom involved itself in political and social issues, as well as religious matters. When the first meeting of the Israelite
Alliance of America was held in the Lexington Avenue building on May 25, 1902, the
problem of Russia’s discrimination against American Jews was addressed.
The Russian Government had
an official policy of barring Jewish men and women from entering the country,
despite proper paperwork. Joseph J.
Corn, who presided at the meeting insisted “it was a humiliation to the whole
Nation that American passports were dishonored on the borders of Russia because
the bearers happened to be Jews.”
In honoring military dead,
Americans at the time tended to overlook the contributions of Jewish soldiers and
sailors. Partially in response, on May
17, 1908 the Hebrew Union Veteran Association and the Hebrew Veterans of the
War with Spain held joint memorial services at Temple Rodeph Sholom. The Times noted “Spaces were reserved in the
centre of the temple for the members of the two associations, and the rest of
the auditorium was filled.”
The temple was equally
filled on April 20, 1912, following the sinking of the RMS Titanic. Rev. Dr. Rudolph Grossman addressed those who
asked why God allowed such a tragedy.
“Is God at fault that there
were not sufficient lifeboats? It is
human stupidity, sinfulness, and cupidity,” he said.
He spoke also of Isidore
Straus, philanthropist, civic leader, and co-owner of Macy’s department store,
and his wife, Ida. “While we mourn for
the humblest, the stokers and the sailors who died like men in the performance
of their duty, and for the humblest in the steerage, we also mourn for those
great men in philanthropy and in other lines which this country could ill
afford to lose.
“There is one which we as
Jews especially mourn—Isidore Straus, a leader in every good and noble cause,
whether patriotic, religious, or educational.
We must call attention also to the wonderfully beautiful, almost
sublime, deed of his noble wife, who refused to leave him.”
By 1926 the Lexington
Avenue corner had greatly changed.
Apartment buildings and retail stores had replaced the homes along the
avenue. On January 31 that year The New
York Times announced that the Temple Rodeph Sholom, “a landmark of the district,”
had been purchased “as a site for an apartment hotel” for about $800,000.
The newspaper explained
that the congregation, having become “beneficiaries” of the increased value of
the real estate, had decided to move out “of a district which is being rapidly
changed for structures for other uses.”
The congregation purchased
land on 83rd Street, near Central Park West, and laid plans for a
new $2 million temple there. The final
service was held on Monday evening, October 4, 1926.
photo from the collection of the Library of Congress |
In its place the monumental
Barbizon Hotel for Women rose, completed in 1927. The masterful structure, designed by Palmer
H. Ogden, survives today.
Another great saga. Thank you. I used to work in that neighorhood, passing by and through the Barbizon on many occasions. I never knew the corner had been a prominent schul (temple).
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