BACK TO THE FOLD : More and More Jews Are Heeding Call of Tradition

Their numbers are small, probably no more than 1% of the Jewish population. But their impact can be seen in neighborhoods around the Westside.

Some have dubbed them Juppies, short for Jewish yuppies; fruppies, short for frum (Orthodox) yuppies, or BTs, short for ba’alei tshuva (returners or repenters).

They are young and middle-aged men and women, well educated and affluent, who are returning to Judaism with a passion and are banding together in their commitment.

Saturdays Off

One such group will share more than religion. Some members of the Pacific Jewish Center, a strictly observant synagogue, are building a kosher housing development within walking distance of Venice Beach. Eight families each have invested upwards of $300,000 to become part of the community on a cul-de-sac off Ozone Avenue.

At first glance, the construction site--where workmen are under strict orders not to work on Saturdays, the Jewish Sabbath--and Cape Cod-style houses do not look unusual. But a second look reveals a cabalistic good-luck charm protecting the site and interiors that are being customized for traditional observances.

The eight houses on 10 lots near Lincoln Boulevard will have double sinks and dishwashers--one for dairy food, one for meat--to help homeowners follow the complex rules for keeping kosher. Instead of the wet bar in the architect’s original plans, the dining room will feature a sink for ritual hand-washing.

Almost all of the new homeowners have come to traditional Judaism for the first time or are finding their way back after years of alienation.

They say they have found a sense of community and meaning in life that runs as deep as it is new.

Opposite Directions

The growing membership in organizations such as the Pacific Jewish Center, which attracts more than 400 people to its weekly classes on the Bible and Jewish tradition, indicates that the new homeowners are not alone.

“You see things moving in directly opposed directions simultaneously,” said Rabbi Joel Rembaum of Temple Beth Am, a large Conservative synagogue on La Cienega Boulevard just south of Beverly Hills.

“We (in Los Angeles) have one of the lowest synagogue-affiliated rates in the country, but at the same time that percentage seems to be affiliated with a higher degree of commitment, and the reasons why are hard to know for sure,” he said.

Rembaum was one of the founding members of the Library Minyan, an alternative congregation that holds its services for the High Holy Days in Beth Am’s basement social room. That group has grown to more than 200 families from 20 in 1970.

Founded by professors and non-practicing rabbis and professors, the congregation has attracted a number of members who did not grow up in traditional homes.

Seeking to explain the return to orthodoxy, Rembaum cited the isolation of life in the nation’s second most populous city, where only one Jewish household in three is home to a traditional nuclear family.

‘Need for Community’

“There’s a need for community, and one way of satisfying that need is to affiliate with a synagogue and participate in Jewish living,” he said.

He also said that American Jews now may be more comfortable with their ethnicity than previously. “You don’t need to cover up your Jewishness to be accepted,” he said.

Additionally, “People are on a spiritual quest, and I think that there is a recognition of the limitation of human beings,” Rembaum said. “We can blow ourselves to bits. We could never do that before. Maybe there’s a sense that we need some higher wisdom to keep us from doing that.”

According to Joel Grossman, a lawyer who got his job through the Library Minyan when a senior partner at the firm where he now works heard him give a talk on the Torah, the mechanization and computerization of modern society is also a factor.

“I think the more computerized we get, the more important it is to find a sense of spiritual enrichment,” he said. “I think it’s very, very hard to live in a society like ours without God and the concept of a higher spiritual dimension.

“Those of us whole been through the ‘60s and ‘70s and experienced all sorts of sensuality and sexuality and drugs are left with the feeling that there’s got to be something more.

“And by the ‘80s, we’ve got a nice house and couple of cars and Rolex watches, and there’s the feeling that there’s got to be more than this too. A house in Beverly Hills but there’s still something missing in your life.

“And that’s where I think religion comes in. And I think it does provide you with a sense of finding a place for yourself in the universe.”

It has also provided some members with new friends and spouses. According to Michael Medved, a film critic who is president of the Pacific Jewish Center, there have been 67 weddings in the congregation since it was founded 10 years ago.

After 130 children were born to group members, they decided to found a day school, and several group members decided to live together in communities such as the new housing development on the border between Venice and Santa Monica, Medved said.

‘Big Favor’

“If real estate values continue the way they’ve been going, we’ll have done ourselves a big favor, and if they don’t, we’ll be happy anyway,” said Allen Hershberg, a four-year member of the group.

“This is a nice opportunity to live in an environment among friends who live similar life styles and think alike,” he said. “We rely on each other in times of need and in times of joy as well.”

Not all such groups are as close-knit or devout as the Pacific Jewish Center, but they share an enthusiasm and an appeal to young people at a time when many Jewish leaders are worried about the larger numbers of Jews who have fallen away from the community.

According to Steven Huberman, executive director for community services at the Jewish Federation Council, about 26% of the nearly 600,000 Jews in the Los Angeles area belong to synagogues, while 27% belong to other Jewish organizations. The Westside’s 222,000 Jews make up about a quarter of the population of the area.

Allowing for an overlap of synagogue-goers who also belong to other groups, estimated at 40%, that means that more than half of the community is completely unaffiliated, he said.

Visible Impact

Even so, the impact of the newly observant is visible and not just in the world of religion.

Shops selling Jewish items are flourishing along Fairfax Avenue and in the Pico-Robertson District, where Jack Roth, owner of J. Roth/Bookseller, said he has seen a growing interest during the last 10 years in Jewish books ranging from cookbooks to Talmudic tomes.

“Generally speaking, there has been a reawakening of many people to a consciousness of Judaism,” he said. “Not everybody is coming back to Judaism or buying a Jewish book because they’re religiously inclined, but they’re intellectually inclined, ethnically inclined or maybe culturally inclined.

“But about ba’alei tshuva (returners), I’d say there is more purchasing because there are more ba’alei tshuva, no question about it,” he said.

One Pico Boulevard restaurant, Cafe Serravalle, recently dropped the Cafe from its name and turned kosher under new management.

Eclectic Menu

But instead of chicken soup and brisket, Serravalle offers an eclectic menu featuring pasta, veal and steak.

It tempts the dieter with an upscale version of strudel, an old-fashioned desert. Instead of being rolled in long tubes, as it was in grandmother’s day, the apple stuffing is elegantly gathered in a fragile pastry sack and presented with a sweet sauce.

“We are a response to the young Orthodox returnees,” said Selwyn Gerber, a South African immigrant who is one of the partners in the 6-month-old enterprise along with his wife, Glynis.

“People are coming back to Judaism and they’re involved in the world,” he said. “They have business lunches and they have evenings out and they’re accustomed to nouvelle California cuisine rather than traditional Jewish food.”

Gerber said business is good, especially on Sundays, the one weekend day when Orthodox couples go out to eat. Friday night and Saturdays are generally spent at home.

Return to Old Ways

Keeping kosher in an upscale restaurant is only one sign of the return to the old ways.

Many, whether Orthodox or not, refrain from driving or working on the Sabbath. They attend weekly Torah classes during lunch breaks at work or in private homes. They stroll to prayer services at synagogues within walking distance of their homes. They planned to fast for more than 24 hours on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, which started Friday evening.

“These are people whose college roommates meet them 10 years later and say, ‘This is not the same person,’ ” said Deborah Lipstadt, head of the Brandeis Bardin Institute, an adult-education program and summer camp that has about 400 active members in its young adults program.

“These are people who have gotten to the point where their career is in motion and they look around and ask: ‘Is that all there is?’ ” she said. “These are people looking for some ultimate meaning, something deeper than the rat race.

“And it’s also social. They are looking for people to connect with who are like-minded, with similar interests. And that could be tennis or working out or it could be people who share your Judaism.”

Deeper Meaning

Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller of UCLA’s Hillel Council said the trend is not as far-reaching as it may seem to those who see the streams of worshipers walking home for a communal lunch after Saturday services.

While a visible group of several hundred people may be finding a new life by looking toward old ways, many more find that traditional belief has nothing to offer them, he said.

Seidler-Feller said that he believes that the change has not been in numbers but rather in the activity and visibility of followers of Judaism.

“They’re aware of themselves and determined to make it,” he said, “whereas the trend toward assimilation has continued unabated and the new generation of young people is even further removed from the essence of Judaism.”

Andrea Smith, wife of the president of the Orthodox congregation Westwood Kehilla, agrees with at least part of that.

“We had a real feeling that we were the last generation,” she said. She and her husband, Greg, both veterans of the political and social upheavals of the 1960s, are new to Orthodox Judaism.

“If we didn’t bolster our Jewish identities, our kinds would be totally assimilated,” she said. “We didn’t know anything about it. . . . We felt a real responsibility to investigate.”

Their investigations took them through Conservative Judaism to the formation of the Westwood Kehilla.

The group has grown from 10 members in 1984 to more than 200 today.

Nobody comes through the congregation without being invited to somebody’s house, Greg Smith said. “Lunch is the greatest engine for creation of community in the world.”

Warm Welcome

Marleen Frankiel agreed, saying that the warmth of the welcome made up for the strangeness of her first visit to Orthodox services.

She said she found the separation of men and women at the Westwood Kehilla “a little difficult” when her husband, Steve, brought her along one Saturday shortly after their marriage.

Unlike some Conservative and Reform congregations, Orthodox synagogues generally do not allow women to play a public role in services.

This can be a stumbling block for some women interested in stepping up their Jewish commitment. But several who were interviewed said that although they do not recite the blessings over the Torah or take any formal role in Orthodox services, they do not feel left out.

“I don’t think because men get up and read the Torah in synagogue, that means that women shouldn’t read the Torah at all,” said Diane Medved, an author. “The whole thing that kept me coming was intellectual curiosity.”

Different Roles

Clara F. Zilberstein, a psychologist and vice president of the Westwood Kehilla, said that women do have a role, although different from men’s, in Orthodox congregations.

“You can have different roles if both are important,” she said. “The imitation of male ceremonies is not important for women to feel significant.”

Zilberstein, daughter of a leading Orthodox rabbi, said people used to ask her how she stayed Orthodox in an era of women’s liberation.

“I answered that I managed to separate Orthodoxy from the people who practice it,” she said. “I decided that the hypocrisies were the result of imperfect people living out a perfect Torah.”

And many women say that the rewards of Orthodoxy far outweigh the difficulties.

Aspects to Enjoy

“As I got to enjoy myself more,” Frankiel said, “I realized there were other aspects to this life and that women were very much respected.

“I didn’t enjoy the service so much as I enjoyed the lunches and the singing and the friendships. So after meeting people, even though the service didn’t change in length, it seemed a lot shorter to me.

“The rewards are a great sense of community and friendship in a city that’s very big. Steve’s a workaholic and it’s a good way to be together. People say you sit apart at services, but we’re together more on Saturdays than we are at any time else. It’s like a vacation for us not to have to worry about work or anything else.”

At a recent conference sponsored by the Westwood Kehilla, 330 ba’alei tshuva from various groups gathered over box lunches of fried chicken and coleslaw to discuss the future of their movement.

At the conference, Rabbi Abner Weiss of Beverly Hills’ Beth Jacob Congregation told the group that the growing number of ba’alei tshuva has jolted the Orthodox world.

Raising Questions

“When Jews from the periphery are more intensely Jewish than those on the inside, then those on the inside have to ask what is really halakhic (accepted by Jewish law and tradition) and what is not,” said Weiss.

He said that the movement is forcing Orthodox Judaism to reexamine itself.

“How does a baalat tshuva (a woman striving for repentence or return) fit into a community that is not ready for her to give sheurim (Bible lessons) in public, which is not ready for the Bat Mitzvah ?” he said. Bat mitzvah is the girl’s version of a coming-of-age ceremony reserved for 13-year-old boys in the Orthodox tradition.

The debate, as yet unresolved, “is a testimony to the powerful impact of Jewish people who have laid claim on their heritage and insist on being part of the community as a whole,” Weiss said.

That community is not always willing to welcome the newcomers, however. One conference participant told of the engagement of a young man from an Orthodox family that fell through after the prospective bridegroom’s parents rejected the woman because of her secular background.

Lingering Distrust

Weiss expressed sympathy, but said that people who have grown up frum (Yiddish for Orthodox Jews) may not trust the stability of newly found religious fervor.

“So, you want to marry my daughter?” he imagined a hypothetical father from the old-line group, known jokingly as FFBs (Frum From Birth), saying. “ ‘You change so easily. How do I know you’re not going to change her as you turn to another meshugass (craziness)?’ ”

As a result of this tension, many newly observant Jews tend to associate with others who share their fervor, participants at the conference said.

According to Rabbi Daniel Lappin, spiritual leader of the Pacific Jewish Center, some FFBs see the newcomers as unwilling “to allow a ritual to remain a ritual. You want to know why and since when.”

Indeed, it is largely the intellectual curiosity of many ba’alei tshuva that holds the new groups together.

At one of his Wednesday night lessons, Lappin wove an elaborate tapestry of scientific formula, quotations from Shakespeare and references to the music of Bach, Mahler and the Beatles to explain the uncanny impact created by the blowing of the ram’s horn on the Jewish High Holy Days.

“Before we get into what notes to play or how many notes there are, important questions though they are, we have to understand why,” he said.

One of the most aggressive of these groups is Aish HaTorah, the local affiliate of a Jerusalem yeshiva , or theological seminary.

Working out of plush offices donated by a Century City financier, Aish HaTorah offers Bible-study classes for young professionals and sends its rabbis into the offices of top executives for individual study sessions.

Aish HaTorah is not a synagogue; its leaders say they try to direct students into existing congregations. The staff is largely Orthodox, but its major financial supporters, including leading figures from show business, banking and real estate, generally are not.

‘Sense of Inner Peace’

“For some reason it gives me a sense of inner peace and I wish I could tell you why,” said Richard Zelle, vice chairman of Center Financial Group, a real estate finance firm and a big donor to Aish HaTorah.

Gary H. Carmona, another partner, agreed, saying, “It’s another dimension. A lot of the prejudices I had against Orthodox practice was really ignorance. I may not be ready to adhere to the Orthodox practices, but I have a much better understanding.”

Both are members of the Steven S. Weiss Temple, a Reform congregation.

“We have 2,000 names on our list, almost exclusively from the Westside,” said Irwin Katsof, executive director of the group.

“Our goal is to touch 5,000 people in the 25-to-40 age range in L. A.,” Katsof said. “Then there will be no one in that age range in this city who doesn’t know one or more people who’ve been through it. We don’t advertise, but people hear about it once, twice or three times and they say, ‘I’ve got to check it out for myself.’ ”

Known informally as just Aish, Aish HaTorah offers the Bible as an instruction book for modern life, according to Rabbi Nachum Braverman, himself a relatively recent arrival at Orthodox belief through a stay at the Jerusalem yeshiva .

“The Bible is wisdom for living,” he said. “It answers all the questions about how to live a good life.”

The answers are not simple, he said. “It’s not like a pill you take, and, boom, the questions go away. But we believe the answers are there. It takes wisdom, understanding and searching, but the answers are there to be found.”

At a Torah study class at his home a few days before the Jewish New Year, which began Sept. 24, Braverman met with about a dozen people to go over the readings that would be featured in holiday services.

He read the Biblical account of the sacrifice of Abraham’s son, Isaac, and quoted ancient sages on Abraham’s cruel dilemma, which was resolved when God revoked his command and an angel offered a ram to be sacrificed instead.

God’s Importance

“You love your children enormously, but you can’t put your children above everything,” he concluded. “The point is not that we believe in sacrifice of children, but it’s a realization of how important God is.”

After the lesson, advertising executive Susan Gertsman said she learned of the Aish HaTorah program through a hair stylist who said she could not work on a Saturday photo assignment because she was observant.

“I said, ‘Observant of what?’ ” Gertsman recalled. “She said she was Orthodox, as in Judaism, and I was blown away. Here she was, a contemporary woman.

“I had absolutely no religious background at all. What I found was really fascinating (was that) the wisdom of our ancestors really applied to contemporary life styles.”

Keeping kosher, for example. “It’s a reminder,” she said. “It’s a way of keeping connected to the sanctity of life and that food is a gift. You don’t just keep kosher. You have to be motivated. It’s not something you do because somebody told you to do it.”

Like Gertsman, fellow student Beth Gumerove also has come to value what was once foreign to here. She said the classes have helped her understand the reason behind the Biblical commandments and rabbinical interpretations that govern the religious life.

“Little by little, looking at how people live and how they’re there for each other, I said I want to make this a part of my life,” she said.