c. 1996 Religion News Service

(Rabbi Rudin is the national interreligious affairs director of the American Jewish Committee.)

(RNS)-As the sun began to set on a recent Friday evening, the wind- chill factor on Manhattan’s West Side was minus 18 degrees. And even though bitter gusts were blowing in from the Hudson River, more than 1,000 people were lined up outside St. Paul and St. Andrew Methodist Church, Congregation B’nai Jeshurun’s temporary home, patiently waiting for seats at the Sabbath service that was about to begin.

Because the congregation’s building is being renovated, BJ meets in a Methodist church, and a complex schedule has been carefully developed to meet the logistical needs of both groups.

The news here is not simply that a Jewish congregation coexists with a Christian one. What’s remarkable about BJ-nickname of an historic synagogue founded in 1825-is that its extraordinary popularity has made it a phenomenon on the American religious landscape.

It is vivid proof that a once-moribund urban congregation can become a dynamic center for prayer and study.

The crowds that gather here each Friday evening not only fill the first floor and balcony; the overflow crowd sits on the floor, the window sills and the choir area. The service is led by BJ’s two Argentinean-born rabbis, Rolando Matalon and Marcelo Bronstein. Ari Priven, the musical director, has given the ancient Sabbath prayers a late-20th-century upgrade.

The congregation enthusiastically joins with Priven as he plays his electronic keyboard and sings into a microphone head set. Traditionalists may complain that BJ’s service sounds more like a rock concert or a Broadway musical than a worship service. But the people love it.

On Friday nights, the average age of the congregation is about 30. It’s the synagogue of choice for many Jewish young adults in New York City. Some critics say it’s become a gathering place for singles. But BJ officials proudly note the large number of marriages that have resulted from people who first met one another at services. Besides, they argue, the traditional Hebrew term for synagogue means”house of assembly or meeting.” Highlight of the service is the”L’cha Dodi”prayer, which compares the Sabbath to a beautiful bride. In most synagogues, worshipers rise to figuratively welcome the”Sabbath Bride,”but at BJ the people leave their seats and joyously dance in the aisles. So much for the stereotype of uptight, edgy young urbanites who show no emotion in public. The dancing is vigorous and exuberant.

Then the service moves into a quiet meditative period, which many people find is the most meaningful part of the worship experience.”It’s my way of putting the work week behind me and (moving) into the Sabbath, the day of rest and prayer,”one BJ member said.

The large crowds at BJ recently prompted the New York City Fire Department to issue a warning about possible safety hazards. Reluctantly, the rabbis decided to offer an early and a late service on Friday nights.”We came to the conclusion that when we are at our maximum capacity, we have to close our doors, but we didn’t want to do that,”Rabbi Bronstein said.

That’s a problem many churches and synagogues would love to have.

The rabbis preach no sermons. Instead, the focus of the 90-minute service is on communal prayers, singing, dancing and personal meditation. At its conclusion, many of the young adults head for festive Sabbath dinners in each other’s apartments. Many see these meals as natural extensions of worship.

It would be a mistake to view BJ solely as a lively Friday night”happening.”Like other synagogues, it offers classes, programs and projects for adults and children. BJ reflects the search for spirituality and community that is increasingly part of the American Jewish scene.

BJ’s renaissance began in 1985 when Rabbi Marshall Meyer arrived with Rabbi Matalon and transformed the synagogue from a place where perhaps 40 people showed up for a Friday night Sabbath service. Rabbi Meyer brought a spiritual vitality and a strong commitment to social justice; his efforts soon bore rich fruit. Tragically, cancer cut down Rabbi Meyer a few years ago, but his legacy seems secure.

Scholars of religion constantly remind us there is a spiritual hunger in the world. And Congregation B’nai Jeshurun is clearly a place where that hunger has been converted into one of the nation’s most exciting houses of worship.

LJB END RUDIN