So great is the Jewish "commercial spirit," so omnipresent, and so much part of Jewish religious teachings themselves, that, beginning in the 19th century, many Jews socializing into "civil" Christian society found themselves embarrassed by the crass behavior that resounded from the Orthodox synagogues. "There were many modern, acculturated Jews," observes Howard Sachar, "who were increasingly repelled by the synagogue's cacophony: the nasal singing, the selling of prayers, the gossiping of women in the gallery, the absence of decorum." [SACHAR, p. 159] 

    "In Judaism," says Martin Sklare, "there is no sharp division between the sacred and secular, and consequently little development of separate norms in each area. This system conflicts with the Christian -- and American -- one which distinguishes between the sacred and profane, defines which situations belong to each category, and provides for special behavior." [SKLARE]

     In other words, in Orthodox Judaism everything anywhere may be "profaned;" there is no physical sanctuary -- including a synagogue -- from the ubiquitous prowl of economic exploits (the Sabbath -- the day of rest -- is, for the religious, the exceptions). Jay Gonen notes an old joke about Jewish obsession with money even in religious contexts, circulated not by Gentile anti-Semites, but by Jews in Israel:

      "Two Jews, by a miracle, find time to pause and reflect in front of a holy

       site, the Wailing Wall, or the western wall of the Second Temple. One

       of them notices that the other is weeping profusely over the destruction

       of the Second Temple. 'Why are you crying so much?' he says, 'True,

       the Temple has been destroyed, but the lot is still worth something."

       [GONEN, p. 27]

      Jewish comedian Joan Rivers explains materialist and ostentatious Jewish identity this way: "I'm Jewish. If God wanted me to exercise he would've put diamonds on the floor." [SAPOSNIK, 1998]  One of Jewish comedian Milton Berle's jokes went: "A Jewish youngster asked the boy next door to play with him. The boy answered, 'My father says I can't play with you because you're Jewish.' The Jewish lad answered, 'Oh, that's all right. We won't play for money.'" [BERLE, M., 1996, p. 311] Or, "The Israelis have just developed a brand-new car. It not only stops on a dime, it picks it up." [BERLE, M., 1996, p. 305] And: "Why did the Israelis win the Six-Day War?" "Because the equipment was rented." [BERLE, M., 1996, p. 305]

      Another joke of the same genre circulated in the American Jewish community runs like this:

      "And then there was the Jewish Santa Claus. He came down the chimney

       and said: 'Hi, kids. Want to buy some presents?'"  [BLOOMFIELD, p.

       29]

    Another joke even addresses manipulation of anti-materialist notions of respect in the Gentile world towards Jewish economic advancement:

        "A wealthy Boston Brahmin was on his deathbed. The end was near,

     and he asked his three business partners, a Catholic, a Protestant, and

     a Jew, to come to the hospital to discuss some matters pertaining to his

     estate.

        'You boys know I have no family,' he began, 'so I'm dividing my

     wealth among the three of you, in three equal shares. As a sign of your

     good friendship, however, I would like each of you to make a token

     gesture after I'm gone, by putting a thousand dollars into my coffin

     before it is lowered into the ground.'

        Several days later, the funeral was conducted according to the wishes

     of the deceased. At the appropriate time, the Catholic friend walked up

     to the coffin and placed in it an envelope containing one thousand

     dollars. The Protestant friend came forward and did likewise. Finally,

     the Jew walked up to the coffin, took out the two envelopes, and

     replaced them with a check for three thousand dollars." [NOVAK/

     WALDOKS, 1981, p. 95]

      As always in Jewish folklore, Gentiles are -- to the wily, down-to-earth Jew -- stupid.

     William Novak and Moshe Waldoks call the following joke "a favorite, found in most collections of Jewish humor”:

       "A minister, a rabbi, and a priest were discussing how they made

     use of the funds in the collection plate. The minister said, 'I draw

     a line on the floor, and I throw the money into the air. Everything

     that lands to the right of the line is for God; everything on the left

     is for me.'

        'That's pretty much what I do,' said the priest. 'But instead of

     a line, I draw a circle. Everything in the circle is for God; everything

     outside the circle I keep for myself.'

        'I, too, have a system,' said the rabbi, 'I take the money and throw

     it up in the air, and whatever God catches He can keep." [NOVAK/

     WALDOKS, 1981, p. 95]

     Such observations about Jewish values are acceptable, and common, within the Jewish community itself but, as Jewish scholar Nancy Jo Silberman-Federman notes, such a joke told from a Gentile would flag him or her as an anti-Semite. She notes the self-deprecating (and/or exploitive) tone of many Hanukkah cards sent by Jews to each other:

     "[In one case] the front of the card pictures a Jewish woman hugging

      Santa. The copy reads, 'Merry Christmas! Thank goodness for

      Gentiles.' The inside reads, 'Somebody has to buy retail!' If certain

      jokes are told by non-Jews, both the teller and the joke would be

      considered anti-Semitic ... This [celebrating of such jokes in Jewish

      circles] may be seen socially as a mechanism for in-group solidarity."

      [SILBERMAN-FEDERMAN, p. 220]

     Whereas in most -- if not all -- other religious faiths, adherents seek physical refuge from the anchors of materialist concern while they pray, in Orthodox Judaism, overt pecuniary transactions -- involving personal egos and status assertion -- are an integral part of the traditional Jewish religious service itself. Jewish sociologist Martin Sklare calls it "commercialism in the synagogue." This includes "shenodering, the pledging of money for the opportunity of participating in the Torah service ... , the holding of auctions during holidays and festival services for the purpose of 'selling' certain particularly honorific privileges; by stimulating competitive instincts, large amounts may be pledged; and the Yom Kippur appeal: fund raising which takes place during Kol Nidre, a particularly holy service." [SKLARE, p. 363]

      To traditional Christian  -- and other religious temperaments -- such vulgarization in a "House of God" inevitably calls to mind the old Christian story of Jesus becoming outraged at the Israelite money changers on Temple grounds. [Matt. 21:12-13; Mark 11: 15-17; Luke 19: 45-46] What kind of religion, non-Jews have found themselves asking through history, is this?

      In modern times, of course, to ask such a question is to attract assault as an "anti-Semite."  And, however bizarre, Jewish scholar Sara Horowitz's comments, post Holocaust, in linking Jesus’ outrage at Jewish money-dealing in the sacred Temple to the Nazi persecution of Jewry is typical:

      "The New Testament [has] multiple descriptions of Jews defiling the

      Temple and Jesus' consequent need to purify the holy space by throwing

      out the Jewish money changers ... Historically, the image of the Jewish

      money changer whose presence defiles sacred space conflates with Jews

      as money lender, with the typing of the Jew as materialist and avaricious.

      Jewish attachment to money over attachment to God, to nation, or to

      other people is repeatedly portrayed in Nazi propaganda newsreels and

      feature films." [HOROWTIZ, p. 125]

     But even when the Zionist "father" of modern Israel, Theodore Herzl, visited (in the late 19th century) the famed Jerusalem Wailing Wall, the supposed last remaining edifice of the ancient Temple itself, so revered in Jewish religious tradition and a magnet to Jewish pilgrims, he could only write with disdain that "we have been to the Wailing Wall. A deeper emotion refused to come, because that place is pervaded by a hideous, wretched, speculative beggary." [HERZL, in PATAI, p. 746-747]

      Isaac Baer Levinsohn describes the Eastern European synagogue of the nineteenth century:

      "Each ... synagogue abides by ... only general disorder ... This [person]

       jumps while another shouts; this one moans his loss while another one

       complacently smokes ... One has just begun his prayer as another has

       finished it ... this one jokes and pulls another by the ear. Quarrels and

       fisticuffs often ensue about private as well as public matters ... One

       aspires to be the sixth to come up to the Torah, another seeks the honor

       of taking the Torah out of the Ark and often they quarrel on that

       account." [SACHAR, p. 217]

     As many Jews, leaving their ghettos and Orthodox Judaism in the 19th century attuned themselves to surrounding Christian "civil" society, many became concerned about "embarrassing solicitations" in the synagogue. One American Conservative Judaism publication even chastised its community, saying:

        "There is no charitable expression in the English language that can

         connote the desecration of a Torah honor and the degradation of a

         House of Worship into a market place of vulgar vanities and rude

         commercialism." [SKLARE, p. 363]

      Sklare describes Orthodox religious gatherings:

     "The Orthodox shul with the accompanying multidinous prayers, jams of

      people and children, all joined together in a cacophonous symphony of

      loud and sometimes raucous appeals to the Almighty." [SKLARE, p.

      372]

      "The Orthodox synagogue," says James Yaffe, "seemed [to Reform-minded Jews] dirty, shabby, unruly, un-American." [YAFFE, J., 1968, p. 98] Conversely, even today in America, notes Solomon Poll,

     "the Hasidim [ultra-Orthodox Jews] noticed the great tendency to

     imitate the non-Jews. Jewish weddings had bridal processions. The

     groom was led in by his own parents; the rabbi also participated in

     the bridal procession; ushers attended the ceremony; the rabbi made

     a speech during the ceremony; pictures were taken -- many times,

     movies. All these appeared to the Hasidim as mockeries and imitation

     of the goyim to which they vehemently objected." [POLL, 1969, p. 41]

    Martin Sklare notes that one of the major affectations in the creation of the modern Conservative Judaism movement was a change toward "decorum." In Orthodox Judaism, he notes, "should a worshipper consistently adopt what would generally be considered a reverent demeanor ... his deportment might well be the subject of intense criticism ... The form of Orthodox worship does seem to be almost unique in its lack of solemnity." [SKLARE, p. 361] Although, "when I was a boy," says Earl Shorris, "I was told that the reason why there was no musical instruments in the synagogue was that we were mourning the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem." [SHORRIS, E., 1982, p. 89]

     The novelist Herman Wouk wrote with fondness about his memories of Orthodox synagogue culture brought to America with Jews from Eastern Europe:

              "Calls to the Torah, opening of the Ark, and so forth, all went

              for a price. The auctions were colorful and exciting enough,

              but the mood of prayer naturally vanished while they went on.

              They were often pretty long. During the reading of the Torah,

              moreover, it became the practice of each man, as he was called

              to his aliya, or reading turn, to announced his contribution

              to the synagogue's many charities. For each announcement

              he or his family received a public blessing by the shamas. Again

              this was a process of high economic value, but not attuned to

              the thoughts of the higher world ...

                 They enabled many tiny congregations to survive and grow

              into majestic congregations and fashionable temples. With the

              prospering of the Jewish community, these devices of

              desperation have gradually given way to conventional fund

              raising.

                 'Five dollars for the third reading!' Nor do I want to forget the

              historic auction one Yom Kippur afternoon nearly forty years

              ago, in a synagogue in a Bronx cellar, when my father outbid

              men with far more money (though they were all poor struggling

              immigrants) for the reading of the Book of Jonah ... These

              auctions are a thing of the past and it is better so, but they served

              a purpose. Children in such synagogues learned unmistakably

              what a precious thing a call to the Torah was."

              [WOUK, p. 123-125]

      The value of the Torah would seem to suggest a price tag. Auctioning off the rights to recite prayers and announcing in public, each in turn, individuals’ charitable contributions reveals a lot more about Jewish merchant culture  -- and its pressures, struggles for community status, and symbiotic religious dogma -- than it does anything remotely spiritual.  Wouk's fond memories for all the big bills flying around the Torah in his synagogue (albeit for religious intention) reflect a nakedly material concern. Such activity reaffirms what the Torah was largely intended as:  recipes, rules, and regulations for Jewish self-advancement in a hostile political world, or -- as apologists like to frame it -- communal survival through the centuries. Wouk's childhood memories of high auction recitation prices confirming the Torah's value are obviously rooted in pride for his father and his status as an economic victor, as well as a general fascination with the wheeling and dealing of a street bazaar. Even the synagogue could function as a forum to celebrate human vanity in one's ability to pay for something, in this case the right to recite sacred texts. (Synagogue members have even been sued in recent years for not paying membership dues. In Rockaway, New York, for example, in 2001 David Slossberg and three others were sued for back payment by the White Meadow Temple.) [GOLDWERT, M., 1-5-01] "Conspicuous charity," wrote Judith Kramer and Seymour Levantman about the Jewish American community in 1961, "is less a matter of religious or ideological commitment than a conventional social obligation serving as a source of status." [KRAMER, p. 101]

       Anthony Polonsky notes the Jewish tradition of "ostentatious generosity" in seventeenth century Poland:

            "Was this piety on the part of a few rich individuals shared by all

             Jews? To answer this question clearly, one must study the religious

             attitudes of the time. It seems that participation in services was

             motivated more by a desire to shine in public than by profound

             faith. If previously a synagogue seat was a sign of respectability

             in the community, now unfortunately they were being sold. Indeed,

             the practice of buying seats, backed by a deed of sale became

             common." [POLONSKY, p. 59]

     For an Eastern European Jewish community ever fixated upon worldly accomplishment and the hierarchical status of respective members, even in their most holy religious center "the prosteh yidh [common Jews] sat at the back of the synagogue." [ZBOROWSKI, p. 74]

     In the late 1950s the American Jewish poet, d. a. levy, wrote:

         My father and i

         went to a temple to hear

         the services

             sat down in time

             to hear the haunting

             language for just a moment

         when someone told us we had to stand in the

         back - we had chosen 'reserved seats'

         seats that had been paid for

         we left and it was there i completed

         my external jewish education  [PORTER, p. 126]

     As James Yaffe observed in 1968:

     "The synagogue charges no admissions fee to services, except on High

     Holy Day, Yom Kippur and Rosh Hoshanah, when everybody comes

     to worship. Then most synagogues require worshipers to buy

     tickets, and many sell reserved seats; the closer to the altar, the

     higher the price ... 'Passing the plate' is not a custom in the

     synagogue. Sometimes a plain white envelope is left on the  

     worshiper's seat. Inside he finds a slip of paper with his name

     on it, and a list of suggested contributions, from twenty dollars

     up; he will put a check next to the amount her prefers, and slip

     the piece of paper back into the envelope. In old-fashioned

     Orthodox synagogues the method is often less decorous; the

     rabbi reads out the member's names, and each man is expected

     to call out how much he intends to give." [YAFFE, J., 1968, p. 154]

    Jewish student Silja Talvi complains about this Jewish tradition of charging steep admission to the most sacred of Jewish holy days (she blames "capitalism" for this custom, however, and rationalizes that the high prices are somehow useful in keeping "psychopathic anti-Semites" out of synagogues):

     "It is not a stretch to surmise that many more established synagogues have
     taken their cues from the capitalist economy that surrounds them, having
     arrived at the point of valuing finances about kehilla [community]. For all
     this kvetching about all the lost, unaffiliated Jews, how many among the
     country's mainstream Jewish religious leadership have stopped to think
     about dropping cost-prohibitive barriers to getting in through the
     front door? ... In this regard, Jewish religious institutions would do well
     to take inspiration from the Lubavitchers and Christian churches alike:
     Free admission, fundraising drives and donation baskets have a certain
     logical and friendly appeal, especially for those unaffiliated, lower-income
     Jews who have reason to feel uneasy about spending close to $100
     to be allowed a seat at a temple to spend the day or evening in prayer.
     Non-Jews who have overheard me in conversation about the fees involved
     in obtaining tickets for Jewish holiday services have expressed confusion
     at the very existence of fee schedules and entrance tickets. The tickets, I
     explain, are a necessary and common-sense precaution for Jewish
     institutions that hope to make it more difficult for psychopathic anti-Semites
     to walk through their doors. But why the high cost, they ask? For once,
     I don't have a good answer." [TALVI, S., 2001]

      Convert to Judaism Lydia Kukoffmn explains the Jewish idea of "paying to pray" like this:

     "I remember how put off I was at the thought of tickets for religious services.
     It was so foreign to my way of thinking. Over the years, however, I have come
     to realize that, although I may still resist the idea of paying to pray, it is the one
     time of the year when the temple is able to assure its continuity, and thereby
     its potential for service to its members." [KUKOFF, L., 1981, p. 84-65]

    There are even Jewish jokes about such materialism in the synagogue:

        "It is Yom Kippur. A man comes to the synagogue in a state of obvious
     excitement. The usher is at the door looking at admission tickets. As the
     man tries to walk in, the usher stops him: 'Let's see your ticket.'
        'I don't have a ticket. I just want to see my brother, Abe Teitelbaum.
     I have an important message for him.'
        'A likely story. There's always someone like you, trying to sneak in
     in for the High Holy Day services. Forget it, friend. Try somewhere
     else.'
        'Honest. I swear to you. I have to tell my brother something. You'll
     see. I'll only be a minute.'
        The usher gave him a long look. 'All right,' he says, 'I'll give you the
     benefit of the doubt. You can go in. But don't let me catch you praying!"
     [SILBIGER, S., 2000, p. 44]

      Paul Cowan recalls the synagogue memories of his father (former CBS-TV president Lew Cowan):

     "Once, when I was a boy, my father told me that he recalled the Yom Kippurs
     he went to synagogue and watched Jake Cohen [Lew's father] weep and beat
     his breast to atone for his sins. Then, after services, Lou would walk home
     with his parents and the rest of the huge Cohen clan and listen, appalled,
     as they fought over status and money; as they gossiped cruelly about siblings
     who weren't there. That wasn't religion, my father would tell me angrily. That
     was hypocrisy." [COWAN, P., 1982, p. 6]

       In 1982, Earl Shorris recalled his childhood memories of the kinds of men who headed his synagogue:

     "We arrived at the synagogue as a family, three generations led by my grandfather
      ... My grandfather spoke to his friend Eddie -- Big Eddie, he called him. They
      spoke as members of the board of directors of the synagogue, important men,
      big donors. My grandfather earned his money from the labor of Italian and Polish       women who sewed clothing in his factories. Big Eddie sold cheap wine and whiskey
      to the poor of the town. We did not approve of Big Eddie. His diamond ring and
      his fat cigar offended us ... [H]is business offended us. There were fights in front
      of his store, stabbings, more than one killing. There were rumors about him.
      Some people said he dealt with criminals. It as said that he gave so much to
      the synagogue to atone for the way he made his money ... He traded donations
      for a position as a director of the synagogue. My grandfather said Eddie wanted
      to be president, that he was willing to donate a community center if the directors
      would elect him president .... [SHORRIS, E., 1982, p. 3-4] [When Big Eddie
      finally strode up at the synagogue to be so honored, "the man our community       commended to God" (p.7)] the color of his flesh was as rich and vulgar as his
      suit. [Grandfather,] you were so small, so pale beside him. Jerusalem was
      conquered, the Temple was destroyed, and there was no prophet in all of Israel.
      After the service I asked my father why it had happened. Money, was all he
      said. Sometimes you have to do these things, my grandfather added. A
      building doesn't come cheap." [SHORRIS, E., 1982, p.7]

      Jewish pride and concern for status and material affluence has a long history. There is a Yiddish word for it: yicchus, which connotes the traditional Jewish importance of personal and familial prestige, status, and a respected reputation in the community.  This yicchus could be obtained for parents by their children's marriage to a spouse of higher standing. But yicchus could be lost too, for instance, by stooping to manual labor. [ZBOROWSKI, p. 78]

      "In his ghetto community [the Jew] strove for yicchus," wrote Harry Golden, "a word which has remained to this day the most important word in Jewish culture ... [It] is more than a thousand years old ... Yiddish and Hebrew are filled with words denoting the nuances of community standing." [CUDDIHY, p. xi]

       Originally supposedly rooted in family genealogies and scholarship, it also grew to reflect upper class occupations, material affluence, and -- for many -- ostentatious display of ownership. As Zborowski and Herzog put it:

     "Historically, traditionally, ideally, learning has been and is regarded as

      the primary value and wealth as subsidiary or complementary. Economic

      pressures and outside influence have made of wealth a constant

      contender for first place in the value hierarchy." [ZBOROWSKI, p. 74]

     David Koskoff even suggests that the idea of the marriage bond expressed as expensive jewelry has roots in ancient Jewish history, where the wedding ring had to be

     "large, heavy, and gold. It was expected to be of a specified value

     and fully paid for! Indeed, in the Hebrew stipulation that the ring

     must have a stipulated value, we see, perhaps, the origins of later

     customs which laid down that a wedding ring must be durable and

     of some worth -- not a mere trifle ... The basic principle survives

     today. It is not the thought that counts, it is the money." [KOSKOFF, p.

     273]

     In non-religious Jewish circles, the principles of economic status (and embarrassment) are the same. "Community pressure can be exerted in many other ways," says Yaffe,

      "Some [Jewish] federations publish a book at the end of each [fund-

      raising] campaign, in which the names of all contributors and the

      amounts of their contributions are listed. In Cleveland this book is

      mailed free of charge to every affiliated member of the Jewish community

      ...  [YAFFE, J., 1968, p. 172] ... [At fund-raising dinners]  the same thing

      goes on ... After the food and the speeches, the name of each guest is

      read out from a stack of cards, and he is required to stand up and

      announce how much he intends to give -- and to hand in his signed

      pledge then and there." [YAFFE, J., 1968, p. 173]

      Zalman Schachter was asked why many young Jews in the post-1960s era left Judaism for other faiths like Buddhism. "First," he replied,

     "it doesn't feel real if it comes from their own thing. If you come to

     shul on Yom Kippur -- this is the gross level, yah? -- and you know

     you're going to be hit for the United Jewish Appeal and the building

     fund, you can't take your own tradition seriously." [KAMENETZ, R.,

     1994, p. 150]

      The above kinds of expression of Jewish competitive pride, material self-worth, ostentation, and economic centeredness even at the heart of their religion -- often aggravating anti-Jewish sentiment in surrounding Gentile populations -- have been widely criticized.

     The wealthy Jewish gravitation to ostentation in Amsterdam (in the 1500s and 1600s) is noted by Jewish scholar Herbert Bloom:

      "If we compare [in Amsterdam] the Sephardic Jews' luxurious and

      extravagant lifestyle with the simpler and more restrained ways of

      the average wealthy Dutchman, the contrast is striking and served

      to accentuate the traditional association between the Jew and money."

      [BLOOM, H., p. xvi]

      "In Germany," notes Joachim Prinz,

     "forty Marrano ['secret' Jewish] families paticipated in founding the Bank of Hamburg
     in 1619, and by the middle of that century they were accused of having too
     luxurious a life style, as evidenced by their palatial homes and their ostentatious
     funerals and weddings ... Some of the finest homes in Amsterdam belonged to
     newly arrived Marranos." [PRINZ, J., 1973, p. 127]