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.
Chapter Eight
Hello there. Hughie m’boy. Tis your old friend Kevin O’Connor.”
“Uh-huh.” Hugh Lanigan, chief of the Barnard’s Crossing police force, did not like to be called Hughie, and he did not particularly like Kevin O’Connor, chief of the neighboring Lynn force. He regarded him as a professional Irishman, even a stage Irishman, since he was American-born and the brogue obviously was put on. The most he would allow was that it might have political advantages in Lynn.
“You’ll be going to the Police Chiefs’ spring dance, won’t you, Hughie?”
“Haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Well. I wish you’d let me put your name down now. I’m on the committee, and I’d like to make a good showing.”
“I’ll let you know, Kevin.”
“You don’t have to send in the form.” Lanigan was amused to note all traces of brogue had vanished. “Just give me a call, and I’ll be happy to put your name down, and you can send me the money anytime you think of it.”
“Okay, Kevin.”
But the other was not yet finished. “Oh, and by the by, would you happen to be knowing an individual name of Paff, a resident of your lovely town, a kind of a Jew type?”
“Meyer Paff?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yes, I know him.” said Lanigan cautiously. “What do you want to know about him?”
“Oh, just the usual. Is he a respectable citizen? Have you ever had any dealings with him—in the way of business, you might say.”
“He’s well thought of here in town. No police record of any kind, if that’s what you mean. What’s he done?” But already Lanigan had scribbled the name on a memorandum pad.
“Well now. I don’t know that he’s done anything. But he owns a bowling alley here.”
“He owns half a dozen in cities and towns along the North Shore.” said Lanigan.
“I know, but none in Barnard’s Crossing.” It sounded like an accusation.
“We don’t have one here, but the one in Salem is near enough. What’s wrong with the bowling alley in Lynn?”
“Well.” said O’Connor, “some of the kids who have been smoking pot and have given us a little trouble, that’s one of their regular hangouts.”
“And you think he might be pushing the stuff?” Lanigan scratched out the name on the pad. “I can’t picture him in the part. He’s one of the big shots in the local temple, for one thing.”
“Well now, Hughie, did you ever think that might be a kind of cover-up?”
“No, I haven’t, but I’ll think about it—when I’ve nothing better to do.”
“You’ll have your little joke, won’t you. And down there, aren’t you troubled with it?”
“With pot? We’ve had some.” said Lanigan cautiously. “As near as we can make out, it seems to be coming in from Boston.”
“Well, if anything comes to you, any bit of gossip about this Paff. I’d appreciate your letting me know.”
“Ye can bank on it. Kevin m’boy.” Lanigan banged the receiver down and glared at the instrument for a moment. Then he chuckled.
Chapter Nine
Nice sermon. Ted.” said Meyer Paff. Most of the congregation had already filed out of the sanctuary to go down to the vestry, where a collation had been prepared. Paff, standing athwart the middle aisle, had waited for Brennerman and Gorfinkle, who were making their way from the pulpit.
“Did you really like it?” asked Brennerman eagerly, too eagerly.
“Sure, I liked it fine.” Paff said in his deep rumble. “All through it I was thinking—here we’re paying the rabbi a big salary. For what? To give sermons mostly. The rest of his job—making little speeches to the Bar Mitzvahs, marrying people, visiting the sick—we could have the cantor do it or the president. The one thing was the sermons. And now you prove that any fresh young punk can do just as well.”
“Now look here—”
“This is no place to pick a fight, Meyer,” said Gorfinkle quietly.