several new challenges. First, he had to be the force behind the restructuring of three congregations into one new, cohesive synagogue. Second, he had to respond to the personal needs of a religiously diverse group of Jews. Third, in the face of the unfolding catastrophe that engulfed the Jews of Europe, he had to offer Jews of limited learning who were attracted by the seductive options of assimilated life in America a Judaism that was intellectually and spiritually meaningful. Moreover, to his surprise he had discovered that he derived great satisfaction from his duties as a congregational rabbi. He enjoyed presenting sermons and lectures to his congregants—tasks at which he became very proficient, having hired a voice teacher to help him refine his oral delivery—meeting their pastoral needs, and even being active in the day-to-day affairs of the synagogue management; for example, he was very involved in the architectural design of the new sanctuary.
Disaffected from the Orthodox rabbinical community, Agus officially broke with the RCA in 1946—1947 and joined the Conservative movement’s Rabbinical Assembly. In this new context, by virtue of his rabbinical erudition, his Orthodox smicha, and the force of his personality, he became a powerful presence and an agent of change. Over against the conservative force exerted by Chancellor Louis Finkelstein and the great Talmudist Saul Leiberman, who between them controlled the faculty of the Jewish Theological Seminary, which in turn dominated the procedural processes of the Conservative movement, Agus, in consort with like-minded Conservative rabbis such as Solomon Goldman, Robert Gordis, Morris Adler, Milton Steinberg, Ben Zion Bokser, and Theodore Friedman, argued for a more open and dynamic halakic process within the movement.
As a first major step in this direction, Agus proposed that the Law Committee of the Conservative movement be restructured into the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards (CJLS)—a change in more than name, the rationale for which is explained in his essays in Guideposts in Modern Judaism. He was, in turn, appointed to this committee (and to others) and remained a member of it for nearly forty years, until his death.
One of the earliest and best examples of his view on how the halakah should be interpreted is reflected in the important “Responsum on the Sabbath” that was issued by the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards in 1950. This responsum stated that the use of electricity was permitted on the Sabbath and that riding to and from the synagogue on the Sabbath was also permitted. The first decision was arrived at by use of the traditional halakic process, with one major exception, and the second was justified as a takkanah (a rabbinic enactment) responding to the “needs of the hour.” Both instantiated Agus’ view that a reverent and reasoned approach to change and the admission of where the halakah was lacking were required to revitalize Judaism in the contemporary world.
It should also be remembered that these decisions were embedded in a lengthy report that placed central emphasis on a proposed program to “revitalize sabbath observance”; this was not merely a call for radical change and a capitulation to modernity. The program was to consist of standards to be promulgated for all United Synagogue member synagogues to lift the levels of observance. In the late 1940s and early 1950s observance by laypeople was extremely lax—few attended services, many worked, few had Friday-evening dinners, and many Jewish communal organizations held events that violated the Sabbath and at which nonkosher food was served.
R. Agus, impelled by a drive for honesty and integrity, held it wrong to encourage people to attend the synagogue on the Sabbath, with the knowledge that many individual’s would have to drive there, and then to insist that driving was an averah (a sin). In general, he thought that in keeping with modern sensibilities and the intellectual levels of congregants, the primary emphasis should be placed on encouraging mitzvot and not on alleging averot. The doing of each mitzvah was a good in itself and would lead to the doing of other mitzvot. This positive view, stressing the appropriate performance of mitzvot, is expressed in Guideposts and was an underlying principle of Agus’ halakic decisions.
As a recognized halakist, Agus was also asked by the United Synagogue to defend the principle of mixed seating in two secular court cases—one in New Orleans and one in Cincinnati—both of which occurred in the early 1950s. In both cases a deceased person had left funds in his will to his synagogue on condition that the synagogue remain “traditional.” At the time of the deaths, both synagogues had separate seating for men and women, but they did not have a halakically acceptable mechitza. In fact, by 1950 both congregations wanted to introduce mixed seating, a move that prompted a minority group of congregants to sue for the retention of separate seating on the grounds that mixed seating was a violation of the tradition.
In response, Agus pointed out that neither synagogue had a mechitza and yet each had been considered traditional in the eyes of the now-deceased donor. Therefore, one could argue that mixed seating was noless traditional than separate seating. He also explained the lack of any clear halakic basis for separate seating and the nature of change within the tradition.
To the Orthodox members of the Agudas ha-Rabbonim, the organization of European-trained rabbis, this was wholly unacceptable. They were engaged at the time in an effort to force all Orthodox synagogues to maintain a mechitza as a way of drawing a distinction between Orthodox and Conservative synagogues. In the early 1950s, under the aegis of R. Joseph Soloveitchik’s Halachah Committee, the Rabbinical Council of America issued a statement that mechitzas were required.
The Agudas ha-Rabbonim went further and issued a ruling that prayer within a synagogue without a kosher mechitza was not permitted and would not fulfill a person’s religious obligations. In the same ruling, they placed R. Agus in herem (excommunication) for teaching false ideas. Intermarriage with R. Agus and his immediate family was prohibited. It should be noted, however, that two of the gedolai ha-dor (recognized halakic authorities), R. Aharon Kitler and R. Moshe Feinstein, who were friends of R. Yehuda Leib A. Agushewitz, denied knowledge of and repudiated this action. Three other rabbis—Eisenstein, Groubard, and Greenfield—were also specifically placed in herem. However, several years later the leaders of the Agudas repudiated this document and claimed that it had never been properly executed.
In 1950, R. Agus accepted the position of rabbi at the newly formed Conservative congregation Beth El in Baltimore. A small congregation of some fifty families when he arrived, it grew over his three decades as its rabbi into a major congregation—so popular, in fact, that it had to restrict new memberships—and one of the premier Conservative synagogues in the United States.
In his role as community rabbi, Agus attended the daily morning minyan (prayer quorum), taught Mishnah or Talmud for ten to fifteen minutes to those who came, and always returned for the evening daily service as well. He visited the sick weekly, paid shivah (week-of-mourning) calls, attended committee meetings in the evenings, and met congregants at all hours. He gave serious forty-minute lectures to the men’s club each week, and hundreds of men attended on a regular basis. He did oral book reviews for the sisterhood. Agus also started adult education institutes for the whole community, attended by thousands. He planned the curriculum for the Beth El schools and taught the post—bar mitzvah class. He produced a siddur (prayer book) for everyday use that allowed services to be of a moderate length. He also changed the content of the services for late Friday night, Saturday morning, and holidays in ways that retained the traditional core of the liturgy but made the services more aesthetically pleasing, intellectually challenging, and time-efficient. His approach to services included intellectual sermons and beautiful congregational singing—all in a two-hour package. Congregants came on time and participated.
As a consequence of all this effort, Beth El moved to new suburban surroundings in 1960, reopened its membership rolls, and grew to a congregation of more than fifteen hundred families. It was typical of Agus that in the construction of the new building he worked closely with the architects and designers to ensure that it would be both aesthetic and Jewishly pleasing.
Here a word needs to be said about Agus’ view on the role of women in the synagogue. Consistent with his more general theological position, he felt that artificial barriers to the full participation of women should be eliminated. However, he cautioned that societal change must occur at a pace and in a manner that allowed people’s sensibilities to evolve and new means of order and value-teaching to develop. He was very concerned that the family