Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance

by Roger Herst

  "Tell that to Janean and Tyebee's parents who would like to put me in the stocks and throw darts."

  "They're mother and father to catastrophe. Instead of accepting their role for what happened, they're targeting us. Had they been home on time to celebrate Shabbat with their girls rather than going to a bar for TGIF drinks, this wouldn't have occurred. Dispassionate minds would never attribute blame the way they have. The vast majority of our members at Ohav don't believe we're guilty of malpractice or anything that resembles it. The worst crime they can charge us with is being over-zealous in training their kids. Doesn't Anina see it that way?"

  He glanced at his watch, nervous about the passage of time. "She's obsessed with repairing crooked noses and removing waxy eyelids. What does this tragedy mean to her?" "If I had a boyfriend like you, it would mean a helluva lot to me."

  "Anina tries to be supportive but doesn't really understand what I do. Her mind works with finite problems and textbook solutions. For every malady, there's protocol to fix it. She doesn't understand people who aren't like her."

  "Right and left lobe brain problems. Maybe that's what makes you guys look like such a good couple." With her arm she gently turned Asa in reverse, retracing their route along the sidewalk. The sight of Wisconsin Avenue ahead signaled the end of their private time and compelled her to introduce what was foremost on her mind. "I need your help, Asa. I know this isn't the best time to ask, but we can't always choose our timing. I want to run for Congress and to do that, I need you."

  He halted his forward motion abruptly to study her in the pale illumination of mercury-vapor street lamps. "The noise inside must have scrambled my brain. Did I hear you right?"

  "You know I've been active with the Democratic National Committee. I've been approached to run for Congress against Toby Ryles in the Eighth District. Don't try convincing me the idea is ludicrous. I already know that. There are a hundred reasons why I shouldn't even consider this. I've weighed them all. And in the end, something compels me to do this foolhardy, ridiculous, ill-advised and preposterous thing. I must try, Asa."

  "You manage to knock my socks off every day, Gabby. Just when I think I've got your number, you reverse field and startle me. We walk down one sidewalk and you tell me to reconsider my decision about leaving the rabbinate. We turn and march up the same damn sidewalk and you reveal that now you want to parachute from the pulpit. So how foolish am I?"

  "It's not you who is foolish, but me. This is a one-time opportunity that's bigger than Gabby Lewyn. It's a chance to reform the electoral process. The truth is, I'm not eager to be a congresswoman, but I do want to run for office. From a material point of view I have pretty much what I need and the perks have little appeal. As for the celebrity, I can testify that it isn't what it's cracked up to be. Process is everything. I believe I can actually make a change in an electoral system that's badly broken. And to do this, I need your help."

  "You've got my vote. Where's the ballot box?" he said while resuming their motion toward Saloon Can Do.

  "It's not the vote I need. I must have someone to cover me on the pulpit during the campaign. There's no way on God's earth I can campaign between now and November and ride the bucking bronco at Ohav at the same time. I'd like to hold on at Ohav through Pesach, then have you take over from April through November. The board owes me a full year of sabbatical. I'm cashing in my chips."

  He issued a mocking hoot. "What happens when you win, Congressman Lewyn?"

  "I won't. Not against Toby Ryles. But I'm going to run harder and faster than anyone you've ever seen."

  "And what makes you think the board will let you go during the lawsuit? For a politically savvy woman, you haven't a clue. I'm toast. The board would love for me to disappear. I might get a sweet severance check to go quietly."

  She was now fast-walking, almost trotting to keep up. "That's not true, Asa. You've done a remarkable job and have many, many supporters. And as for the sabbatical, I'm overdue now for two years. It's written in black and white. Stan Melkin and half the board are lawyers and know how to read a contract."

  "You always land on your feet. So what happens when you win?"

  "I told you – not a chance. But if Rabono shel ha-Olam shines his light on me, then you stay on at Ohav as Numero Uno. When I lose, we re-define the junior-senior relationship. I don't have that worked out yet. I invite you to put your needs on the table and I'll seriously entertain them. I promise you'll end up with far more than you have now. You've got me over a barrel and can blackmail me for whatever you want. Somehow, I'm not worried you will. I've never seen you take advantage of anyone."

  They were at the intersection with Wisconsin Boulevard when he said, "What about the lawsuit? How can you run for office with a major suit hanging over your head?"

  "The way I see it, I have two alternatives. I can let the suit consume me or get on with my life. Let others do the worrying. This is Dominion Mutual's problem. Let the lawyers handle it. They get paid handsomely. You and I don't."

  "Running Ohav is a challenge without the suit."

  "I didn't ask you because I thought you weren't up to it, Asa. I wouldn't propose this unless I had total confidence in your abilities. I know you're having doubts about your career, but this will provide an opportunity to test your feelings. Give it a chance and come to an informed conclusion. Doubts are indulgences of the leisure class. I guarantee you will be so busy there won't be time to entertain many doubts."

  He didn't look the least bit convinced.

  "I need to make it worthwhile you financially. This is what I'm prepared to do. During the months in which you do my job, I'll swap salaries with you. You get paid my salary, which is pretty cushy these days, and I'll take yours. That should put many additional shekels in your pocket."

  They arrived outside Saloon Can Do, a location that made both uneasy. It was one thing to take their chances about being seen inside with naked women on stage, yet another to risk higher odds of being recognized by passersby.

  "A lot to think about," he said, nervous about getting back to his piano. "Are you coming inside?"

  She lifted her chin to regard the overhead neon spelling out CAN DO. The thin bouncer opened the door a crack and peered out into the street. "No, I think I've seen enough female privates for one night. I'll leave that pleasure for you boys. Can we talk more tomorrow? I don't want to rush, but the DNC is putting pressure on me."

  "Sounds as if you've already decided. You still need to get the board's approval, which I'm prepared to bet you won't."

  She crumpled her shoulders like a schoolgirl, twenty years her junior. "When I signed on be become Seth Greer's assistant, I told them it would be a roller-coaster ride. So I have disappointed anyone?"

  "Chuck tells me that has always been the way with you. He says he's exhausted trying to pick up the pieces." He lips curled in gesture of disbelief as he shook his head, ready to re-enter Can Do. "Get approval from the board, and then come back to me."

  Dimples that sank deep into the cheeks punctuated her smile. While defiant and mischievous it was a gesture had seen before – her signal of determination.

  ***

  Stan Melkin believed that a board of directors should decide only matters of principal, not details of daily synagogue operations, and he molded his presidency accordingly. When controversy arose, as it often did, he appointed representative speakers to air conflicting points of view, and only after all appropriate arguments were made, called for a decisive vote. No postponements. No indecisiveness. No festering feuds. While some board members criticized his autocratic style, most commended his efficiency.

  "He's better than anarchy," a supporter commented, and appointed out that however severe the differences of opinion, Ohav Shalom had never experienced a wholesale schism. A few disgruntled members dropped their membership, but none threatened to siphon off others by establishing a competitive shul.

  The question of Gabby's sabbatical had been postponed from October through Janua
ry in favor of more pressing concerns – l'emergency du jour, as Stan was fond of referring to these firefights. He convened the February meeting an hour early to address this question. Following that, Disney Productions, was scheduled to make a presentation about a re-enactment of the Passover epic and proposed television collaboration with Ohav Shalom.

  Board members were silently studying a summary document when Gabby entered the conference room and assumed her customary seat to the president's right. After surveying those seated around the rectangular table, Stan Melkin glanced at his watch to start precisely on the moment.

  The vestige of a head cold was in his nose. "I don't believe anyone would gainsay that Rabbi Lewyn deserves a rest from her grueling pace. Eleven years of service to this congregation should not be taken lightly. Her workweek isn't five days like most folks, but seven. Even the Sabbath, if I'm not being irreverent, is a workday for her. We all know that she is supposed to take off Tuesdays, but that is de jure, not de facto. Something always intrudes into her private time."

  "Hear, hear," Helen Blutton-Fine, British born but married to an American think-tank executive, utilized a British phrase for her enthusiasm and lightly clapped her palms. "I for one don't understand how our rabbis keep going day by day. It's positively exhausting to watch them. But by the same token, I cannot conceive of running this place without Rabbi Lewyn. Particularly, with an expensive lawsuit hanging over our heads."

  "Her sabbatical couldn't have come at a more inopportune time," Morris Stein, a pudgy, good-humored restaurant owner who was adept at dealing with personnel issues, intoned. Morris was a newcomer to the synagogue leadership, working his way up the ladder by serving on several under-appreciated committees before finally being recognized by the governing board. A charitable man, who couldn't imagine anything more worthy than contributing to Jewish causes, was considered Stan Melkin's right-hand man and a possible successor. He addressed Gabby directly, "Given the Morgenstern lawsuit, do you think it possible to postpone your sabbatical once again, at least until we see our way clear?"

  She had anticipated this and said, "Morris, that's what I was asked to do when Rabbi Greer unexpectedly resigned. And when the question arose again the following year, matters were in such turmoil that everybody thought it advisable I didn't exercise my right and the sabbatical got postponed again. I recognize that these are trying times but there's always an emergency in this shul. We never seem to clear the docket. I'm not planning to follow the example of many rabbis and study in Israel. I'm going to stay in town, so that if required by the lawsuit, I can and will make myself available. Asa Folkman is quite capable of handling daily operations. We've talked about bringing on a young intern or new seminary graduate to supplement his rabbinical services. Since so many people want to serve in the nation's capital, finding the right fill-in shouldn't be difficult."

  Stan addressed Gabby directly. "We've had considerable discussion about Rabbi Folkman's qualifications and we're not as sanguine as you."

  She had hoped nobody would take this position, but was not entirely surprised. Her tone left no ambiguity. "I work with Asa Folkman on a daily basis and can testify to his professionalism and skill. I have complete confidence in him."

  "He doesn't seem to have his heart in the job," Helen Blutton-Fine asserted. "There are rumors that he plays piano in some pretty seedy nightclubs. I'm sure you know about this, don't you, Rabbi?" "Yes, of course. The congregation is the beneficiary of his talent. Many of his liturgical compositions have been incorporated into our services. Cantor Blass is working on making a CD of his work. That he sometimes plays piano at night is well known. He has a right to spend his free evenings however he chooses."

  "Is this a vocation or avocation?" Blutton-Fine asked.

  "Asa's first loyalty is with the congregation."

  Cynthia Messinger, chairperson of the religious school committee, interjected, "These days he seems withdrawn and sullen. We can understand a certain moodiness when facing this suit, but that's not what this congregation needs in these stressful times. We all feel blue and we need our leaders to pick up us. His depression could be contagious."

  Gabby canted her head in her direction. "He naturally feels a measure of responsibility for what's happened and feels somewhat isolated by widespread criticism. What he needs are people who believe in him. Perhaps I'm revealing more than I should but he doesn't feel much support. The rabbinate is a lonely business, at the best of times. He's been deeply moved by Janean's death and Tybee's injuries. You wouldn't want a rabbi who wasn't."

  Cynthia added, "More care in instructing the Morgenstern girls would have spared Ohav this misfortune."

  Gabby could not let this remark go without rebuttal. "I sincerely hope your view is not widely held, Cynthia. I don't regard Asa as negligent in any fashion. I would have done exactly what he did. He had absolutely no reason to believe that Janean and Tybee would light Chanukah candles without their parent's supervision. The girls indicated that they wanted to learn how to conduct the ceremonies in order to teach their mother and father. Moreover, their parents encouraged us to instruct their kids. Their faults as parents should not become an indictment of Rabbi Folkman. I have already said how much I respect and admire him. He deserves your confidence."

  There was silence around the table. No heads were nodding, yet no one openly challenged.

  Stan, always keen to a legal settlement and a self-proclaimed peacemaker, addressed Gabby. "Could you tell us why, under these extraordinary circumstances, you feel unable to postpone your sabbatical a little longer?"

  "Two reasons, Stan. First, the suit may take many months, perhaps years. Lawyers on this board are not going to tell me that Chancery moves with alacrity. I'm told that courts of law purposely create slownesss to promote settlements. Secondly, what you're suggesting is a third postponement. I've already made plans for this time. If I agree a third time, I'm setting myself up for a fourth, fifth, and sixth postponement. It's already become a habit."

  Still in his soft, conciliatory tone, Stan pursued. "We don't have the foggiest idea what those plans are, Rabbi."

  To share her idea about running for Congress was certain to open a very big can of very long and slimy worms. But how long could she expect to keep this board in the dark? Experience had taught her not to wait until members learned about such things in the rumor mill. Sweeping her glance around the table, she returned to regard Stan. "My plan is to take off after Pesach so I can run for the United States Congress in Maryland's Eighth District. I've been approached by the Democratic National Committee to campaign against Republican Toby Ryles. I know this is a bombshell and I must assure you there isn't a remote chance I'll win. As you all know, Toby is firmly entrenched and well-liked, a personal friend of some who sit at this very table. But because she's a Republican in a very blue district, she hasn't been an effective legislator. Not one piece of legislation bears her name. Her own party believes she's too liberal to trust and the Democratic hierarchy avoids her because she's a Republican. I want to give this a whirl. By November, it will be all over and I will resume full responsibilities on the pulpit."

  Board members glowered at each other in disbelief. They knew Gabby to possess sufficient community recognition to become elected. And there was no doubt about her gravitas. Yet thinking of her in any role other than their rabbi had never been entertained. Suddenly, there were questions about what would happen if she were elected.

  "I haven't crossed that bridge, largely because I'm not optimistic," she stated.

  Stan was caught in a position he detested, being unprepared. To deflect attention from Gabby's bombshell, he reminded everyone that the Disney folks were waiting to make a presentation. But that didn't stop Nora DelGrotto from asking, "Why run if you don't think you can win?"

  "Because I want to help clean up the electoral process," Gabby replied.

  Eyebrows rose. Her idealism had never been questioned, largely because it always seemed to be tempered by a healthy dose of r
ealism. Without this pragmatism she would never have survived at Ohav Shalom. But in this matter, she appeared to have slipped. As denizens of the nation's capital, they understood the political process. Elected officials who refuse to play according to rules of the congressional club have nothing to show their constituents in the next election. It's play by the rules or lose your seat. The same thought pattern coursed through Ohav Shalom's board. How could Gabby possible think that by running for Congress she might change anything?

  Devorah Chattrel, an energetic, over-weight mother of four and a devoted member of the synagogue's sisterhood, raised her hand for permission to speak and said, "Rabbi Lewyn, we really need you here. Please wait for another election."

  "And become a Republican," quipped Morris Stein. Nobody laughed.

  Cynthia Messinger returned to the conversation. "Toby Ryles is a good friend of the Jewish community. Very pro-Israel. It doesn't seem right to reward her loyalty by fielding a candidate against her. You don't really believe you can beat such a popular lawmaker, do you?"

  "Yes, it's possible," resounded Gabby. "But I must also be realistic. Though I can't disclose how I intend to accomplish an upset, I can tell you that my campaign will be unique in style and form. That's why I can't postpone. It's now or never."

  Chuck Browner, who usually remained nearby during a board meeting in case Gabby needed secretarial help, cracked the conference room door to signal that representative from Disney Productions had been waiting for over a half-hour. They would need ten minutes in the boardroom to set up their presentation equipment.

  Stan said, "Can't keep Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse waiting any longer. Gabby, we'll put our heads together and make a decision very soon."