II - UNCHARTED WATERS AND SOPHIE
Browne sailed forth into the uncharted, turbulent seas of the American rabbinate only partially prepared for the conditions that awaited him. Although Wise had ostensibly introduced his protégé to the real world of the American rabbinate by taking him along on some of his travels, the fledgling rabbi had yet to observe the far reaching ramifications of the power struggle that divided American congregations and their rabbis.
This was a period of transition, a time when many were undecided about the degree of reform that would best serve their needs both as new Americans and as Jews. Congregations fluctuated back and forth between the modern orthodoxy taking root in Europe, and the emerging neologism—radical reform—that they were now free to practice without restraint in America. Much depended on the views of congregational presidents and their boards of directors. No longer ruled by a government-appointed rabbi as in Europe, laymen rebelled against rabbinic domination and often relegated their spiritual leader to the position of mere functionary, an employee to be curbed or fired at the will or whim of an influential member. Personal egos ran high on both sides of the bima (pulpit).1
A few exceptionally well-qualified rabbis prevailed over this condition by gaining “star power,” through authorship of periodicals and prayer books, as well as by crowd- pleasing oratory. Occasionally a congregation would import an already renowned rabbi from Europe, as did New York’s B’nai Jeshurun in 1849 when it lured Morris Raphall from Birmingham, England, with the promise of high salary and life tenure. Such rabbis represented a range of Jewish thought from the uncompromising orthodoxy of Abraham Rice, who immigrated in 1840 and was the first ordained rabbi to serve an American congregation, to the extreme Reform of David Einhorn, who arrived in 1855, unable to hold a pulpit in Germanic states because of his radical views. Between these poles others maintained their own agendas for the salvation of American Jewry, some remaining adamant proponents of particular views; others compromising to further their various missions, and some genuinely moved by a change of philosophy.2
Isaac Leeser, although educated in America and unordained, was a traditionalist who nevertheless advocated Americanizing Judaism. Despite his German background, he had served as hazan (cantor and reader) of Mikveh Israel, Philadelphia’s historic Portuguese Congregation. Widely known for his efforts to educate American Jews through his many publications including the first Jewish-oriented translation of the Bible into English, and the Occident, the first nationally disseminated American Jewish periodical, he traveled extensively performing weddings, dedicating synagogues, and persuading far flung communities such as that of Atlanta to form congregations. As early as 1841, he attempted to organize a congregational union. The only rabbi of his day to approach him in output or travel was his energetic younger colleague, I. M. Wise of Cincinnati.3
By the time of Leeser’s death in 1868, Wise had become the recognized leader of “Western” Jewry—Jews living west of the Alleghenies. Congregations in need of a rabbi typically asked him for recommendations, which gave him increasing power and influence, putting younger rabbis in his debt as their benefactor. Knowing how fluid these positions were, such rabbis were reluctant to risk Wise’s disapproval even after achieving their immediate goals.
Leading Wise’s competition in the East were the cutting-edge liberals, David Einhorn, who by that time had moved from Baltimore to Philadelphia and then to Adath Israel (now Temple Beth El) of New York, and Samuel Adler of New York’s prestigious Temple Emanu-El, the wealthiest congregation in America. Unlike Wise, who immigrated as an unknown, they had attracted attention in Europe arriving in America as recognized scholars and ardent reformers. They were older than Wise, and despite being more traditionally educated than he, were even more determined to break with tradition. In 1869, they published a weekly newspaper, the Jewish Times, to promote their views.4
Wise had already established his two weekly newspapers, the Israelite (English) and Die Devorah (German), as well as a publishing house for Jewish books. Having little formal education but a mind quick to absorb and retain, he was, in Browne’s words, “a self-made man, [who] had much business enterprise....” He organized the so-called Western Jews “on a business-like basis, and... continually [went] for his opponents so that they became mortal enemies.”5
A major point of controversy was competition over the selection of prayer books. With few exceptions, congregations in post-colonial America used either the traditional Minhag Ashkenaz to which they were accustomed, or a liturgy composed by their rabbi in response to members’ request for more modernization. The earliest of these was Leo Mersbacher’s Order of Prayer, published in 1855, then quickly followed by Wise’s Minhag America in 1856, which reflected his purpose of uniting American Jewry, thus being seen as “middle of the road.” Einhorn, who had no desire to compromise or Americanize, competed the same year as Wise by publishing his Olat Tamid in German as an appeal for intellectualized radical Reform in the German tradition. Among others who published later according to their own precepts were Adolph Huebsch of New York, Raphael da Cordova Lewin of Brooklyn, David Levy of Charleston, Max Landsburg of Rochester, Aaron Hahn of Cleveland, Solomon Sonneschein of St. Louis, and Browne himself in New York. Not only did the purchase of these books produce income for their authors, it also indicated the degree to which congregations approved a particular rabbi’s views on liturgy. They served as weapons in the rabbis’ war for control of American Judaism, a conflict frequently marked by unbridled accusations in the Jewish press, notably in journals published by the rabbis themselves.6
Wise and Einhorn divided on more basic, inherent differences, however. The latter, an ideologue and uncompromising revolutionary, refused to bend his convictions even temporarily in order to gain wider support. He was an intellectual; Wise was not. Wise was a politician whose great appeal lay in his popular style and affable approach, his ability to relate to the public. His most compelling issue was uniting American Jewry in order to support a seminary for the training of rabbis who would then spread his interpretation of Reform across America. He often bent his tactics to further his progress, but never deviated from his goal of establishing a seminary.
In this spirit of compromise Wise spearheaded a conference in Cleveland in 1855. It was a third attempt to unite all American Jewish congregations. This infuriated Einhorn, who arrived in America just as the conference was about to begin and refused to attend. Although its adopted platform failed when traditional leaders recognized it as a tactic for establishing Reform, its most virulent opponents were Einhorn’s supporters at the opposite pole. They abhorred compromise, however temporary or practical it may have been.
Einhorn responded by immediately producing yet another competing prayer book, Olat Tamid, and establishing Sinai, a monthly German language periodical. The journal lasted only six years, whereas Wise’s weekly, The Israelite, in publication before Einhorn’s began, is still being published today and enjoyed a wide circulation during Wise’s lifetime, especially across the mid-west and the south. Ironically, although Wise’s views prevailed at the time, Einhorn’s, known as radical reform, ultimately emerged as the winner, becoming the foundation of Classical Reform through the leadership of his distinguished sons-in-law, Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch of Chicago and Rabbi Kaufmann Kohler who, after Wise died, became president of the Hebrew Union College.7
Browne was drawn into the Wise versus Einhorn (moderate versus radical Reform) controversy in September 1868, when Wise took him to New York for the dedication of Temple Emanu-El’s outstanding new synagogue. The congregation’s rabbi, Samuel Adler, pulled Browne aside to advise him that the occasion presented “a very favorable opportunity” for reconciling the conflict between Einhorn and Wise. Believing that their “entire enmity comes from their prayer books,” Adler thought that they might be persuaded to collaborate on a new minhag as replacement for their existing ones. He offered to bring Einhorn to the table if Browne could bring Wise. Wise agreed. Einhorn refused.8
Competition
