Lessons of Giving: How Non-Jews Supported Synagogues and Jewish Causes

In Lima, Ohio, in the early 20th century, the Jewish community faced a challenge familiar to many small-town congregations: constructing their first synagogue. After worshiping in rented spaces for decades, the community sought a dignified, lasting home to serve future generations. With just 30 families in the congregation, resources were limited. Nathan Michael, the congregation’s president, turned to another source of support—Lima’s non-Jewish residents.

In a public appeal published in January 1913 in the local Republican-Gazette, he reminded readers of the ways Jews had supported local causes, including church building funds and the YMCA, and asked for their help. The response was extraordinary. By July 1914, contributions from Jewish and non-Jewish donors alike helped lay the cornerstone of Temple Beth Israel. In February 1915, the synagogue was dedicated in a ceremony attended by hundreds, including local church leaders. The synagogue’s exterior bore an inscription from Isaiah 56:7: “Mine House Is a House of Prayer for All People”—a reflection of both the congregation’s values and the interfaith generosity that made it possible.

This story of collaboration is not unique to Lima. Across small-town America in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, non-Jews played pivotal roles in supporting Jewish causes. From building synagogues to raising funds for Jewish refugees during World War I, these efforts highlight a spirit of mutual respect and shared fraternity that transcended religious boundaries.

In 1858, Portsmouth, Ohio, saw the dedication of its first synagogue, Beneh Abraham. Local Christians not only contributed to its construction but also attended the dedication ceremony in such large numbers that many were turned away for lack of space. In a reflection written for The Israelite, Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise, who spoke at the dedication, praised the Christian residents of Portsmouth for their generosity and their interest in the “religious progress” of their Jewish neighbors.

This pattern of interfaith collaboration extended into the 20th century, particularly during the global crises of World War I. In Bucyrus, Ohio, with a population of about 10,500 at the time, local Jewish families led efforts to support the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, which aided Jews suffering in Europe and Southwest Asia, specifically in Ottoman Palestine. Contributions came from non-Jews, including the Junior Order of United American Mechanics, which donated $25—a significant sum at the time. Fundraising efforts also included short talks at local stores and even the auctioning of pigs in the town square, underscoring the creative and communal nature of these campaigns.

Similar stories unfolded in places like Alliance, Newark, and Steubenville, Ohio, where non-Jews joined their Jewish neighbors in raising funds for war relief efforts. These acts of generosity not only saved lives but also demonstrated a deep sense of interconnectedness, with diverse communities recognizing their shared responsibility in addressing global suffering.

The willingness of non-Jews to support Jewish causes during this period reflects several key dynamics in early 20th-century America. Unlike Europe, where state religions often enforced social and political divisions, the United States fostered an environment where religious pluralism could thrive. Jewish communities, though small in many towns, were integral to the local civic life, and widely experienced respect and goodwill from their neighbors.

Additionally, Jewish leaders were skilled in framing their appeals in ways that resonated with universal values. In Lima, Nathan Michael emphasized reciprocity and shared bonds, appealing to neighbors’ sense of community, while relief campaigns often highlighted the ethical imperative to aid those in dire need. These narratives aligned with broader ideals of charity and mutual aid, inspiring support across religious and cultural lines.

As Hanukkah and Christmas approach, these stories of interfaith generosity offer timely lessons. They remind us that the spirit of giving and acts of kindness have long bridged divides. The collaboration between Jews and non-Jews in small-town America a century ago speaks to the potential for communities to come together in shared purpose, even in times of great challenge.

Today, many small-town synagogues built with interfaith support in the late 19th and early 20th centuries no longer stand, and the Jewish communities they served have largely disappeared. Yet their stories endure, offering a reminder of how mutual respect and shared responsibility shaped the fabric of small-town life.

In other ways, the spirit of interfaith collaboration lives on in modern institutions. Jewish Community Centers across the United States welcome significant non-Jewish memberships, creating spaces where people of all backgrounds come together for fitness, education, and cultural programming. Similarly, many Jewish schools like Akiva Academy in Youngstown, Ohio, which serves a student body where the majority of students are not Jewish, carry forward the tradition of opening Jewish spaces to a wider community. These institutions are a testament to the enduring values of inclusivity and mutual support.

As we navigate a world that often feels divided, these historical and contemporary examples remind us of what’s possible when communities prioritize understanding and collaboration. Just as non-Jews in towns like Lima and Portsmouth helped build synagogues and support Jewish refugees, we too can find ways to support one another, honoring the legacy of interfaith collaboration and generosity that has long been a part of America’s story.

What lessons can we draw from these stories of interfaith generosity? How can we honor this legacy in our communities today, ensuring that the spirit of collaboration endures? This season of giving reminds us that small acts of generosity and collaboration can create lasting legacies, shaping communities in profound ways. In celebrating this season of giving, we honor not just the generosity of the past, but the enduring potential for unity and shared purpose in our own communities today.