In August 1874, Buffalo’s Jewish community gathered to dedicate a new red-brick synagogue on Elm Street. Beth El was the city’s first purpose-built synagogue, a Romanesque-style building that could seat 500—an ambitious space for a congregation of just 35 families. Inside, a choir from the Reform congregation Beth Zion sang in German as Torah scrolls were carried under a canopy. Two young women presented the ceremonial key to open the sanctuary.

Then the congregation’s president, A. F. Cohen, rose to speak.

“Though few in numbers,” Cohen said, “they have been successful in their efforts by great sacrifices on their part, and the aid and assistance of friends and neighbors, whom I also now take the opportunity to thank for the helping hand they extended to us.”

So far, the tone was what you’d expect—gratitude, pride, civic goodwill. But then Cohen went further. His words leapt beyond Buffalo, beyond the 19th century, beyond even the walls of his new synagogue:

“By this building they have done their share towards fulfilling the divine mission of Israel, as prophesied on Mount Sinai… For it is Israel’s mission to carry its truths unto the world at large.”

I was struck.

How often do we speak of the Diaspora today like this? A “divine mission”? A responsibility to carry Judaism’s truths “unto the world at large”? As a convert to Judaism,........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)