A Pulpit for Peace

In the aftermath of Sept. 11, America experienced an ugly anti-Arab backlash. Thousands of Middle Easterners living in the United States were verbally harassed, beaten or worse because of their ethnicity or religion. Some pilots forced swarthy passengers off their planes because their skin made them suspect; the U.S. government, in its zeal to prevent new attacks, jailed hundreds of Arab and Muslim immigrants without formally charging them or granting them access to an attorney. Many were later deported for minor visa infractions.

Against this highly charged backdrop, Rabbi Allen Krause did what he does best to tamp down the anxiety level. A fervent believer in the power of interfaith and inter-cultural dialogue, the head rabbi of Temple Beth El in Aliso Viejo invited a Jewish and Egyptian comedian to perform at his temple before a mixed audience of Jews, Muslims and Christians. Worried about the safety of Orange County’s Muslims, he offered to have members of his congregation guard their local day schools. Krause even invited a Palestinian to Temple Beth El to talk about his people’s suffering under Israeli occupation.

“What we’re trying to do is build a world that is a more decent place,” Krause said in his book-lined office. “I’m doing what I can do. I don’t know whether I’m having an impact, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”

For more than three decades, Krause has been at the forefront of the interfaith movement, using his pulpit to call for a kinder, gentler world. But his dovish views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have rankled some in the Jewish community.

In 1993, he founded the popular Religious Diversity Faire, an annual event where Orange County’s Jews, Baha’is, Muslims, Christians and members of other faiths meet to learn about one another’s religions. He and other clergy recently led an interfaith group to Mexico to build houses for impoverished Mexicans. Krause has stood alongside other area religious leaders to publicly decry a vicious attack on an Arab American high school student in Yorba Linda and a cross burning in Anaheim.

Krause’s fight for tolerance has won him kudos. On June 21, the Baha’is of Aliso Viejo honored him and as a “Model of Unity” in the community. In March, the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism recognized Temple Beth El for its commitment to social justice for participating in the so-called “Living Room Dialogue” with area Muslims and Christians after Sept. 11.

Krause’s example has also spurred others to action. Temple Beth El member Sande Hart said his success in knocking down cultural and religious barriers encouraged her to co-found Sarah, a year old interfaith women’s group in Orange County.

“His commitment to building bridges in the community has been nothing but an inspiration for me,” said Hart, whose group now has a total of 80 Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Baha’i members.

However, Krause’s criticism of Israel — a country he both loves as the Jewish homeland and decries for its treatment of Palestinians — has made the professorial-looking, 63-year-old a controversial figure in some quarters. Although most in his congregation respect his views, a few have dropped out because of his politics, Temple Beth El President Cindy Mirsky said.

Krause is no stranger to controversy.

In 1972, days after Palestinian terrorists murdered Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics, Krause suggested during a memorial service that “we need to address the illness and not the symptom. And the illness is how the Palestinians are treated in the Middle East.” Afterward, he received death threats.

Krause’s views haven’t changed all that much since then. He worries that Israel could become as oppressive as apartheid-era South Africa if the Jewish State continues to disenfranchise Palestinians. And, in the absence of a state where Palestinians might resettle, he worries that Israel’s Arab population could outnumber its Jewish population within decades, a demographic time bomb that threatens the very essence of the Jewish State.

“From our experience, Rabbi Krause has been a good friend to the American Muslim community,” said Ra’id Faraj, the public relations director with the Council on American-Islamic Relations in Southern California, who spoke about the plight of the Palestinians at Temple Beth El. “He is an individual who the community appreciates for his efforts to promote more dialogue and better understanding.”

Some Orange County rabbis are less enthusiastic.

“I think he’s a man with noble intentions, a fine man,” said Rabbi David Eliezrie of Congregation Beth Meir HaCohen in Yorba Linda. “But I think his support of groups within the Arab community can be dangerous to Israel, because I think the true intentions of those groups is far from peaceful.”

Rabbi Joel Landau of Beth Jacob Congregation in Irvine said that Krause’s sensitivity and belief that all people long for peace, quiet and harmony blind him to the harsh realities of the Middle East. Landau, who opposes the creation of a Palestinian state, said his friend fails to see the “cancer that exists in the Arab community that functions on a totally different wavelength than we do in the Western world.”

Krause said he will continue to stand up for his beliefs. But his interfaith efforts and activism only tell part of the story.

Under his direction, Temple Beth El has experienced an explosion in membership. About 660 families now belong to the synagogue, up from 125 when Krause first came on board in 1984. Demographics account for some of that growth, but Krause’s emphasis on Jewish education, along with his accessibility and commitment, have surely fueled the boom, Mirsky said.

As an example of Krause’s decency, Mirsky said he made the long drive from Aliso Viejo to Fullerton to spend an hour and a half by her side when her husband underwent back surgery. The rabbi also visited her after her infant son had an operation a couple years back.

“He’s very interested in getting to know you, even though he’s a busy guy,” she said.

Krause is also interested in educating as many as young Jews as possible. With 600 students, Temple Beth El now has the largest religious program in both the county and Long Beach, he said. An estimated 130 children are expected to enroll in early childhood development programs this fall, triple the number of only two years ago.

“This ties the kids in very closely to their religious roots, and they leave here going off to college with a real solid foundation,” he said.

In recent years, two students have gone on to train as rabbis and another earned a master’s degree in Jewish education, he added.

Krause said he was raised in a home free of bigotry at a time when anti-Semitism and racism were prevalent. Feeling like an outsider during his high school years in the 1950s in Westchester, he developed a compassion and empathy for the underdog, an attitude that has fueled his passion for interfaith under-

standing.

Around the same time, he became excited about Judaism. The late Rabbi Mordecai Soloff of Temple Israel in Westchester touched him with his intellect, honesty and willingness to speak out. Soloff also introduced the young Krause to the Jewish commandment of tikkun olam (heal the world), a value he continues to hold dear to this day.

After earning a bachelor’s degree in history with highest honors from UCLA in 1961, Krause went on to earn another bachelor’s degree from Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR) in Los Angeles. He was later ordained at Cincinnati’s HUC-JIR in 1967.

Krause did doctoral work in American history at both the University of Chicago and UC Berkeley but never completed his dissertation. While a rabbi in Northern California, Krause leveraged his academic training by becoming an assistant professor in the religious studies department at California State University San Jose.

Joining Temple Beth El in the mid-1980s, it quickly became apparent to Krause that the synagogue needed a new home. Nearly a decade later, he relocated it to a 3.5-acre site. However, portable units served as offices, classrooms and even the sanctuary. Krause knew he had to do better or risk having members defect to other, newer temples. So he went about raising money to secure yet another home for Temple Beth El.

In 2002, Krause finally realized his dream when the temple took over a converted 65,000-square-foot building, the former headquarters of a security company. The cost: $15.5 million. The new Temple Beth El features a children’s library, a museum of Jewish history and indoor lights that resemble street lamps found in Jerusalem. The synagogue even has an outdoor basketball court for religious school students.

Walking through his temple, Krause said he had no intention of censoring himself or ending the fight for social justice.

“That’s one of the great things of being a rabbi. You have a platform to be able to make your voice heard to change the world,” he said. “We all can do it, but it’s a little easier when you’re a clergyman.”