An interview with Co-Dean
Joe Greenfield
by Michael Garry

When my wife Maureen and I joined Temple Beth Elohim several years ago, the person who made the biggest impression on us -besides Rabbi Acrish - was Joe Greenfield. We would always see Joe at the Temple, his smiling and warm presence making us feel welcome and at home. We got to know Joe better as our son Ethan neared Bar Mitzvah age and Joe helped prepare him for that big day; Joe was a big reason why Ethan's Bar Mitzvah turned out to be such a wonderful occasion. People like Joe, his wife Ruth, son Nick, as well as Rabbi Acrish and many other Temple members, inspired Maureen and me to become more involved with the Temple and deepen our relationship with Judaism and our fellow Jews.

In this interview, I ask Joe to explain how he became so involved in the life of Temple Beth Elohim and what it means to him.

A little background on Joe: He started as a teacher at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison for women, and is now a counselor there. He earned a bachelor's degree in math along with a teaching license, and went on to receive a master's degree in curriculum development and instruction, specializing in adults. He later earned 25 credits beyond his master's degree and a school district superintendant's license. He is currently preparing to become a lay rabbi who can perform basic rabbinical functions. In addition to his many activities at Temple Beth Elohim, Joe has served as a scout master for the Boy Scouts, and is now an assistant scout master. He was also president of his union local for many years, and remains local treasurer and a member of the union's executive board.

Joe is also famous for wearing T-shirts emblazoned with humorous and sometimes profound sayings. The day I interviewed him, his T-shirt read, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." --Margaret Mead.

When did you join Temple Beth Elohim?

We joined the Temple about 20 years ago, just about the time that my youngest child, Eva, was born. My other kids are Sharon, 23, and Nick, 26. When Eva was born, Nick was about seven, and that was the time to get him into religious school. So we went looking for a temple.

What was your experience with organized religion prior to joining the Temple?

I hated it. I grew up in Mt. Vernon, N.Y., went to the Free Synagogue of Westchester, which was the reform temple there, and absolutely detested religious school. When I got old enough, I would cut religious school and go down to the YMHA and shoot pool. I was forced to go to religious school—to the point where my father would tip my bed over to get me to go on Sunday mornings. He made me go through my Bar Mitzvah and Confirmation but I don't remember anything because most of the time I cut. I didn't step foot in a temple after age 15 until I was married at age 27. I wanted to get married by a rabbi—I don't know why. My mother was very happy that I got married in a temple. Another seven years goes by and then my son is ready for religious school.

Why did you join this particular Temple?

My wife Ruth grew up knowing she was Jewish but not knowing why and had no religious training whatsoever. The only reason she knew she was Jewish was that her mother told her so. So when we decided that our children were going to grow up Jewish, we needed to join a synagogue. Since my wife had nothing to go by, she left it up to me. So I went five minutes from the house to the nearest temple, which was a Conservative temple, and attended a Friday night service. What I found remarkable about it was that, though I knew the Sh'ma and the Veyahavta, none of the tunes that they used were familiar. That's because I grew up Reform, and the Reform tunes and the Conservative tunes are different. The rabbi that the conservative temple had at the time did nothing for me; he was kind of cold. And the people at the temple were no better. I went up and introduced myself to some of them at the Oneg Shabbat after services and basically got a cold shoulder.

So I ventured a little further and found Temple Beth Elohim. The rabbi—Rabbi Acrish—as we all know, is The Rabbi—warm and welcoming and wonderful. And people came up to me at the Oneg and said: "Hey! Welcome! Haven't seen you before!" They were open and welcoming and I said it sounds like this is the place to go. So we joined.

You weren't looking for a Reform temple in particular?

No, I was looking for someplace for my children to suffer as much as I did in religious school! That was probably my thinking at that point.

Didn't you want them to have a better experience than you did?

I wanted them to get a Jewish education—to know why they were Jews. My wife especially, because she grew up with nothing, desperately wanted to make sure that our children had something.

So we joined and got our son into religious school. I never went to High Holiday services because they were too long. I went to a couple of Friday night services when it was the night the religious school class would be doing their thing. I found Friday night services to be a lot more tolerable than my memory of being 15 years old and being in a temple.

When did you become an active member of the Temple?

I started going to the Men's Club the first Sunday of the month. I would drop my son off at religious school and go into the library, where the Men's Club was held. I joined the Men's Club only because they served bagels, lox and cream cheese, and I love bagels, lox and cream cheese. Then, for month after month over about a year, I listened to them bemoan the fact that they couldn't get anything going in the way of fund-raising or anything else. At that point Illana Johnston, who is a kindergarten teacher here, and her husband Phil joined the Temple. Phil, who was a salesman, joined the Men's Club at his wife's urging--even though he wasn't Jewish--to support the Temple and his two children. Phil said to the Men's Club, "Why don't we do something instead of just sitting here? Even if it fails, at least we've done something, for God's sake!" So we ran a fund-raiser.  I don't remember what the fund-raiser was, but it worked.

And then we started doing other things, including flea markets in the summer, and art auctions. We started comedy night, and Ray Romano, who later went on to do the "Everybody Loves Raymond," sitcom, was our first comedian. Phil became the Men's Club president and I got involved after being asked to do something. When I'm asked to do something, I do it, and I tend to do it to the best of my ability. And I found I enjoyed it, and I enjoyed the camaraderie of the guys. We put up the sukkah together, fix up the Temple, cut hedges. We'd do whatever.

I was elected to be the secretary of the Men's Club—I'm still the corresponding secretary-- and then its president. I sat on the Temple's board and opened my big mouth when I had an opinion.

So you're involvement was gradual.

It was gradual. I became parliamentarian on the Temple board, and then president of the Temple for two terms. I also sat on the building committee for many years and became its chairperson, helping to get our wonderful new Temple built. I didn't know bupkis about building, but I surrounded myself with people who were in the building trades, real estate, law, finance and other areas, so all I had to do was lead the discussion. Now I'm co-dean with Larry Hepner of the religious school and confirmation class teacher.

Did you ever think you would get this involved with a temple?

Oh sheesh! As I have often said to my wife, my children and my sisters and relatives, the dirt over my mother's and father's tombs is higher because my mother and father are spinning in their graves laughing hysterically at how involved I've become in the Temple. My father died when I was 18 and my mother died just after my son was born.

I also got other people involved. Bruce Edleson, when we're sweating hard working at something, says, "Sometimes Greenfield, I regret the fact that I said yes when you asked if I could do one thing for the Temple." Once I got you hooked with one thing, I would say, "Hey you did such as wonderful job—could you help me with this thing?" I've always found that it takes the personal touch. I can't just send a letter or an email saying I need help; I need to call and speak with you. For a good decade or so I was the chairperson of the flea market subcommittee of the Men's Club and I got lots of people to help for an hour or two or three or all day, but it only happened when I called them and said, "How many hours can you give me? Can you give me an hour? I'm happy with that." Most people, unless they were going out of town, would say yes.

When did you start coming to Friday night services regularly?

When the kids were young, we started going to services. It evolved from once in a while in the beginning, to going almost every Friday, to going every Friday unless something came up. Through sheer repetition, it became very familiar. I can tell you the Kiddush is on page 719, Aleinu is on 617. I hate sitting, so becoming an usher seemed to be right up my alley. That got me on the ushering committee for the High Holidays, so I don't have to sit for four hours at the High Holiday services; I get to stand, move around, make sure the little kids aren't running up and down the halls, and still participate in the service at the same time. I've been in charge of the ushers at the High Holidays for many years now.

What are your major accomplishments at the Temple?

I would say getting other people involved more and revitalizing the Confirmation class. Because I cut Confirmation class all those years, the summer before I became Confirmation teacher I got all the materials and spent every afternoon and weekend in the library studying and writing curriculum and getting it approved by the Rabbi.

How much time per week do you devote to the Temple?

It depends upon the season. When we were building the new Temple, I was here every Thursday morning for two or three hours, in addition to Friday night for services and almost every Saturday morning for Torah study. When my kids were active in youth groups, I was often here on a Saturday night chaperoning a youth group outing. Sunday mornings I'm here from 7:30 am till about 1 pm as co-dean and to teach the Confirmation class. I'm also here Wednesday from 5:30 to 6:30 pm to help the Rabbi tutor the bar and bat mitzvah students. I knew Hebrew from my bar mitzvah; and by going to services every Friday night for all those years when my kids were in elementary school, middle school and high school, it all came back to me. I still can't read it without the vowels, but the Rabbi gives the kids the vowel version first and then the non-vowel version, so I get the vowel version and follow along while they are reading the non-vowel version and help them with their pronunciation.

How would you rank the following in terms of importance to you at the Temple: religion, culture, social life, institution?

They are all tied together; it's not one over the other. There's the calm and peaceful feeling I get from sitting in the service. It's not quite joy or elation, but it's a satisfying, happy feeling to sit with 20, 30, 50, 100 other people and sing together even though I can't keep a tune. I get a nice feeling from the socializing at the Oneg afterward. My wife learned along with the kids as they studied Judaism, and then we both started with Torah study and learned more there. The Rabbi started a bar and bat mitzvah class, and my wife eventually joined and became a Bat Mitvah. And then the Rabbi decided to do a Confirmation class for adults, and I joined that class, which has made me a better Confirmation teacher.

After all these years, I got familiar enough so when the Rabbi went away on vacation, he asked if I would act as guest Rabbi. The first time it was horrible. I could follow along and keep up with the Rabbi, but when you have to do it yourself, it's a lot harder! But after having filled in for the Rabbi for the past decade or so—I usually do two or three services a year—it's become easier. 

Like many others, I started off just wanting my kids to get a Jewish education. But I got hooked, and I don't do things half-way. When I see a leadership vacuum, I try to find someone to fill it or I fill it myself. My father was president of the Men's Club in our temple when I was growing up, so it must be the in genes somewhere. My mother was president of the League of Women Voters in Mt Vernon.

Was Ruth always as involved as you?

Ruth joined Sisterhood. For many years, she has folded and labeled the Menorah Temple newsletter before it gets mailed once a month. More recently she has been helping with the gift card program. And she's always helped out whenever someone's asked her to. She doesn't like leadership, but when someone asks her to do something, she does it. She wants to be an active member, but not a leader.

What changes would you like to see at the Temple?

Obviously I'd love to see somebody donate $5.3 million, or at least $3 million, but I haven't won the lottery yet. Yes, I play it every week. I promised the Rabbi the first $3 million I win goes right to the Temple. So the Rabbi complained, "How come you haven't won yet?" I came right back, "How come you haven't prayed harder for me?"

On a more serious note, I would love—and you can't force them obviously—for more people to become involved and take on a task. It doesn't have to be a lot; it could be a little. And I'd love for people to participate more. Originally all we had was religious school, services, Men's Club and Sisterhood. Now we have things like adult education, Torah study, the Great Debate Society, Rosh Chodesh and more events. If we have 200 people at an art auction, and nobody buys anything, we would make $1,200-$1,500. So all you have to do is show up and you would help the Temple. The gift card program—if everybody just bought grocery gift cards, the Temple would make a mortgage payment. Some of the adult education stuff might be interesting, but people have to make the personal decision to come. When we have something with the children like the family Passover seder on the second night here, we get maybe 40-50 families, which would be 100-150 people, which fills the social hall. But it's still only 50 families out of 260.

One of the reasons the Rabbi instituted the Shabbaton in the fourth through sixth grade is to start getting parents to talk to each other. So by the time they get to the Bar Mitzvah, they have something in common with a lot more people and they're starting to interact with a lot more people. So they make these personal connections.

Some people make the choice to just drive up to the building and drop the kid off; I once saw somebody that kept the car rolling when the kid was getting out of the car. The parent never set foot in the place. And when they're required to go to services before the Bar or Bat Mitzvah, they come in and sit through services, but they don't bother to read or participate—I see their mouths are not moving. If they come to the Oneg, they stay long enough to hear the Hamotzi and grab something to eat; then they leave. I had one parent who dropped her kid off for services and never came in herself.  I mean you can't force somebody to do it. All you can do is let them know that, hey, we have all these things. Do you like debating or discussing current events? We have a great debate society. Do you like learning about history? The Rabbi's adult confirmation class covers that stuff in an interesting way. Do you like to sing? We have an adult choir. These activities keep your mind active instead of sitting in front of the TV and passively chilling out. There's the Rosh Chodesh group and the Sisterhood for women and the Men's Club for men. We had 14 kids in the senior youth group who went out "moonlight bowling" until 12:45 in the morning. (I helped chaperone them and was exhausted the next day.) There are many different things but you have to make a choice that you're going to make it here for that event. Some events are free or very low cost.

Does the Temple need to address the problem of assimilation of Jews in the U.S.?

Assimilation is a very real worry. The number of unaffiliated people who consider themselves Jewish far exceeds the number who belong to temples. And as they have children, there would be no reason why the children would feel any affinity toward Judaism. But it's difficult to address it because we don't try to convert people. If you're unaffiliated it's for personal reasons. All we can do is let people know we're here but you can't drag them here.

And Jews have not been reproducing to even sustain themselves. The average is something less than two kids per family, which means you're putting yourselves out of business compared to other cultures that are having five and six and seven kids. The Orthodox Jews are the only ones growing.

So all the Temple can do is lay the groundwork and hope that it sparks something.

That's the only thing you can do--to get them here and welcome them and try to find out what would be of interest to them. We do a new-member dinner where we'll sit and chat with you. We've tried pairing up a temple member with a new member; so if I were your temple buddy, I might give you a call and say, "Hey, we're going to the Passover seder, would you like to join us?"

Do you see the broader role of the Temple as advancing "Tikkun Olam"—the repairing of the world?

I think so. When you think about what the Temple is for, the religion piece of the puzzle is the lifecycle events—the baby naming, the bris, the Bar/Bat Mitzvah, the confirmation, the marriage and the funeral service. These are all very personal to you and your family. What makes the Temple special is when you add the word "family" after Temple. The Temple family is where you switch from religion only to a social entity, and that's where groups like the Men's Club and Sisterhood come into effect. But that's also why we have the kids do mitzvah projects to start teaching them about volunteerism. If the parents haven't introduced their kids to volunteerism at home, here's a chance to do it, and it allows the parents to get involved as well, making it a joint family affair.

The people who talk about solving global warming and recycling and all of those buzz words that you hear in society—that's all Tikkun Olam. And it could be done under the Temple umbrella if one desired. It is a shame that this Temple ends up throwing out plastic and paper and aluminum because we don't have someone who has taken on the task of recycling. We cannot and should not expect that to be the responsibility of the Temple hired staff; they have other jobs they are supposed to do. This is something that would be very easy for a person or a group of people to set up—if they decided to do it. And then other people could bring their recycling here as well.

I remember one child's mitzvah project was collecting and recycling the nickel deposit bottles, and people brought their bottles here from home. The kid ended up with quite a few hundred dollars that he donated to some charity. That was a good recycling project, but it ended with the kid's mitzvah project, and he did not include the non-deposit recycling that could be done. But that's Tikkun Olam! The Temple is the perfect place to do recycling, but someone needs to take it on. We haven't had anybody recently take it on. A group of people who consider themselves recyclers could decide to do it; it doesn't take that much time.

I tell people I'm going off to a Boy Scout meeting or going camping or teaching a religious school class, and they ask me, "Where do you find the time?" You make the time. I choose not to watch a whole lot of TV; I'm very selective.  At the moment I watch two hours a week—"Chuck" and "Heroes" on Monday night on NBC. When "Star Trek" was on, I watched "Star Trek." I like science fiction.

That's what I'd like to see—people seeing a need and taking it on, or doing something that you might do at home and making it a family or a neighborhood project but doing it at the Temple. It may end up being just one thing, but that's fine!

How important is religion—and believing in God—in Temple participation?

There are people who never come to services and never participate in any of the religious aspects, but are very heavily involved in the community and social aspects. What makes it pleasurable for those people is that they are dealing with fellow Jews who have a similar cultural mindset. We don't require you to be a devout believer. Yes, we're Reform, not Reconstructionist, so we believe in God, but nowhere do we require it of you.

How religious are you?

I was definitely an agnostic growing up, and still have agnostic moments, questioning moments. In some of the different discussion groups that I attend we've brought those questions up and discussed them. The whole Holocaust thing—if there is a God, how could God let this happen? If there is a God, why did I lose my daughter? We had a daughter between our first and second child who had a heart defect and lived just three days. That was a rough time. Then I start to think seriously about the fact that it's not God's job to look after me specifically. Whether one believes that God created the earth by snapping his or her fingers or one believes that there was a big bang—something had to create the material that was in that big bang originally. When you see a beautiful sunset, whether it's natural selection or a deity doing it, it's still beautiful and I choose to decide, when I'm not feeling agnostic, that God does some really nice stuff! I appreciate it!

What do you feel about the afterlife?

I don't have any strong feelings one way or the other. I know there are some Jewish beliefs about an afterlife, some Kabbalistic or Hassidic beliefs about reincarnation. I hope there's no reincarnation; I'd hate to come back as a slug worm or have to live through puberty again. I would like to think that when one passes on to the next existence, there are always Star trek reruns to watch on TV, pool tables waiting for one more person to play, lots of hiking trails that never end, and that my aches and pains aren't bothering me when I arise in the morning—that would be heaven to me. But I'm not basing my existence today on heading into heaven. I've told too many jokes about heading into heaven and hell to take it that seriously. When it happens, it happens; I'm a fatalist in that respect.

How has the Temple changed your life?

Well it certainly has broadened my circle of friends tremendously. And my participation in all the different facets of Temple life has brought me great personal satisfaction. I enjoy it because it makes me feel good to do it. And it has made me, especially from some of the discussion groups I've been in, think about a lot of things in this world that I never thought about before, like life and death, crime and punishment—almost every topic that we might discuss at a dinner or cocktail party but from a Jewish perspective. Seeing how ancient Jews dealt with these issues, and how we deal with them differently now, has been very intellectually satisfying. I like the emotional satisfaction of doing things for other people, but also the intellectual stimulation compared to sitting and watching the boob tube. One can go through life without thinking about any of this stuff, but one can also spend one or two hours a month talking about issues with other people who are also Jewish but think the opposite of you; you have a good give and take—and still remain friends afterwards. It can be intellectually stimulating and make you appreciate someone else's core values even if they're different from yours.

Last question: When did you start wearing T-shirts with slogans?

After I got married. I now have probably more than 50 T-shirts. My favorite is one of the first that I got but don't have anymore because it wore out. It said, "My wife says I never listen to her—at least I think that's what she says."