synagogue spotlight
What’s happening at ... Congregation Beit Harambam
Beit Harambam United in
Times of Adversity
SASHA ROGELBERG | STAFF WRITER
C ongregation Beit Harambam
has never had any trou-
ble gathering a minyan for
prayers three times a day.

Whenever congregant Moshe Asiag
has attended shul — six days a week,
three times a day — he’s been joined
by 30-40 other men, far exceeding the
minimum 10 needed to pray.

Congregants’ loyalty to Beit Harambam
and each other is unwavering.

When an arson burned down the
Verree Road synagogue in 2000, upon
finding their building destroyed early
Saturday morning, Beit Harambam
members opted to daven outside,
completing their Shabbat service after
rescuing their sefer Torah and prayer
books. Beit Harambam president Yaacov
Avraham insists that there is nothing
unique about his synagogue commu-
nity, but the demographics tell a dif-
ferent story.

One of few area Sephardic syna-
gogues, Beit Harambam is primarily
home to Israeli expatriates. While
Hebrew is often heard in American
synagogues during prayer, it’s not often
the common tongue during post-Shab-
bat schmoozing. At Beit Harambam,
it’s the norm.

“It’s like a big Israeli family,” Rabbi
Moshe Arbiv said.

Founded in 1978 by Moroccan-born
Rabbi Amiram Gabay — now retired
— Beit Harambam was originally a
meeting space in Gabay’s basement
in his Rhawnhurst home. The space
was home to Sephardic and Mizrahi
Orthodox Jews from Morocco, Iraq
and Libya, as well as its large Israeli
population. In the next decade, the synagogue
expanded and moved to its humble
space on Verree Road, a converted
house that blends in with the residen-
tial area there. The community multi-
plied to 300 before the May 2000 fire.

Though police investigations were
never conclusive about the motives
28 MAY 5, 2022 | JEWISHEXPONENT.COM
Moshe Asiag (left) at an outdoor Beit
Harambam event
behind the fire, synagogue leadership
was certain that the action was a hate
crime. “This is pure antisemitism,” Avraham
said. Avraham, who has been synagogue
president for the past 20 years and
replaced the founding rabbi’s son Eli
Gabay, was one of the congregants who
arrived at the synagogue shortly after
authorities put out the fire.

“We stood outside. We were just in
shock,” Avraham said.

Firefighters were able to rescue the
synagogue’s Torahs and salvage some
prayer books, but other texts and more
than 50 tallitot were destroyed.

Asiag, who’s been a Beit Harambam
member for seven years, sometimes
uses a prayer book with burn marks or
singed edges.

Though the fire remains a dark spot in
the synagogue’s history, it provided a way
for the synagogue to expand to accom-
modate its ballooning membership.

With funding help from the Jewish
Federation of Greater Philadelphia,
Jewish Community Relations Council,
Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia
and American Jewish Congress, Beit
Harambam was able to rebuild its orig-
inal space, as well as create an expan-
sion with a larger prayer space and
social hall. The project was completed
in 2011.

An increasing number of young members has made Beit Harambam text study
classes an opportunity to build friendships.

Beit Harambam now offers Torah
study classes for men, Tehillim study
groups for women and an informal
gemach — loan-free social service to
members who may need financial help
— as well as raucous holiday parties,
according to Asiag. Before COVID, the
shul held monthly food drives.

Though many of the congregants
range from ages 45-60, Asiag said, there
are plenty of younger men attending
minyans and text study groups as well.

Asiag, 25, has two Israeli parents and
speaks fluent Hebrew. He has a wife
and three young children, two of whom
began attending shul with him.

Many members, like Asiag, have
young families and work similar jobs.

Going to shul, where there are 90
attendees for Shabbat services and 200-
300 attendees for holidays, sometimes
provides the only social encounters
outside of family that young members
have during the week.

“If you have a synagogue that’s all
different kinds of people, you just don’t
intervene with everybody,” Asiag said.

“But here, we’re all Israeli; we’re all the
same. If you’re all on the same page,
everybody gets along together.”
While close camaraderie among
those with similar backgrounds is an
asset of Beit Harambam for its con-
gregants, its handful of Ashkenazi and
Russian members prove that it’s a space
that can be a spiritual home for anyone.

“Everybody’s welcome to pray with
us. We don’t judge people if they’re
religious or not. It’s an open synagogue
for everybody,” Avraham said. “We
just hope that we will grow more and
more. ... The more people we have,
that’s going to be a blessing for the
synagogue.” JE
srogelberg@midatlanticmedia.com