Over 40 years, Rabbi Rolando Matalon helped turn B’nai Jeshurun into one of the most influential synagogues in American Jewish life. This month, he’s retiring.

During his tenure, “BJ” evolved from a struggling Upper West Side congregation into a national model for spiritually vibrant liberal Judaism. It became known for ecstatic music, participatory prayer, social justice activism and a willingness to confront some of the Jewish community’s most divisive questions.

Matalon is also part of a generation of leaders, now nearing or past retirement age, who created post-1960s “big tent” Jewish institutions. These were synagogues and organizations built on a consensus model that, however fragile, insisted Jews could unite around Israel, social action and Jewish culture and education. In recent years, BJ, like many American synagogues, has seen that consensus tested by differences over Israel, the anti-Zionist and antisemitic eruptions that followed Oct. 7, and a polarized political climate. 

“We need to rediscover what binds us together in our diversity,” Matalon told me recently, when I asked him what challenges he is leaving to the next generation of Jewish leaders.

Born and raised in Argentina, Matalon, 69, joined the BJ staff as a rabbinical student. After his ordination at the Jewish Theological Seminary, he became assistant rabbi to his mentor, Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer, the American Conservative rabbi and activist who lived and worked in Argentina for 26 years. Meyer had returned to New York in 1984 to revive what is America’s oldest Ashkenazi synagogue, a task Matalon and another young Argentine rabbi, Marcelo Bronstein, inherited after Meyer’s death in 1993. (Three decades later, the congregation had to reconsider Meyer’s legacy when an internal investigation determined that a sexual assault allegation against Meyer was credible.) 

In 1988, the synagogue gave up its affiliation with the Conservative movement to become independent. 

With Matalon as “rosh kehilla,” or community head, the synagogue became especially known for integrating Sephardic and Middle Eastern liturgical music into the Ashkenazi prayer service and for fostering difficult conversations around Israel, Zionism and intermarriage. In the pre-JDate era, its Friday night service for singles was a mecca for Jews in search of partners. 

Matalon, who will be succeeded as rosh kehilla by longtime BJ Senior Rabbi Felicia Sol, says he has no intention of stepping away from Jewish spiritual life. He plans to launch a new institute under the BJ umbrella to help rabbis, cantors, musicians and prayer leaders create “participatory, soulful, dynamic” prayer experiences rooted in the musical traditions of Jewish communities around the world.

He also hopes to spend more time exploring New York’s diverse synagogues — especially Sephardic communities. “One thing that defines me is that I cross boundaries easily,” said Matalon, whose paternal grandparents were Syrian Jews from Aleppo. “I feel spiritually comfortable in many different places.”

On Tuesday we talked about the secret to BJ’s rebirth, how he navigated the clergy’s decision to perform interfaith marriages, and his response to congregants who felt he was too critical of Israel.

The conversation was edited for length and clarity.

After his ordination at the Jewish Theological Seminary in 1986, Matalon, above, served as assistant rabbi to his mentor, Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer. (Courtesy B’nai Jeshurun)

When I think about BJ, I think of three things: the revival of liberal Judaism — religiously, socially and politically, or however you might want to define it; the power of music as a tool for the spirit; and conflict resolution, or at least wrestling with conflict, whether we’re talking about intermarriage or, now, Israel and political polarization. Do you agree with that framing, and did I miss anything?

No, I think that’s right on. I think those are the main things that define the last 40 years. BJ was restarted after it was almost bankrupt, financially and spiritually. BJ was on life support when my mentor and teacher, Rabbi Marshall Meyer, came in 1985.

He came because there was a need for more Conservative synagogues in New York City, particularly on the Upper West Side. A number of people were interested in reviving BJ and creating a vibrant community there. Marshall brought this vision of community and prayer and social justice in combination.

The vision was prayer and music, rebuilding community, and addressing some of the social justice issues that were at the center in those days: Israel-Palestine, AIDS, LGBT Jews, homelessness, hunger. We were tackling all these things in one way or another, not in the macro picture but in the micro picture, and that became BJ’s DNA.

After Marshall died in 1993, I continued BJ’s leadership, and I began introducing music from other Jewish communities around the world. That also became a very important........

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