The Economist February 12th 2022 United States 19Tourosynagogue
Another exodus?
T
ourosynagoguesitsona hillatanan
glesothatitsarkfacesJerusalem,as
traditiondictates.Steppinginside,oneim
mediatelysensesitssacredness.Butitis
notjusta shrineforJews.It isalso,asPresi
dentJohnF.Kennedyoncesaid,“oneofthe
oldestsymbolsofliberty”.Tourositsatthe
intersectionofreligiousfreedom,Ameri
canhistory(atrapdoorinthebimah, orpo
dium,mayhavebeenpartoftheUnder
groundRailroad)andthehistoryofJewsin
America.Fornearlyadecadetheoldest
synagogueinthecountryhasbeenatthe
centreofa disputebetweenitsoccupants,
CongregationJeshuatIsrael(cji),andits
owners,CongregationShearithIsrael(csi).
JewishmerchantscametoNewportin
around 1658 fromSpainandPortugal,by
wayoftheCaribbeanandSouthAmerica.
Theyboughtlandfora cemeterytwode
cadeslater. By 1763 thecommunitywas
largeenoughtoopena synagogue.In 1790
George Washington famously promised
Touro’s members that religious “tolera
tion”wouldgivewaytoreligiousliberty.
Bythe1820smostJewshadleftNew
port.Theirscrollsandothersacreditems
weresenttoNewYork’scsiforsafekeep
ing.ButafterthearrivalofJewishimmi
grantsfromeasternEurope,thesynagogue
reopenedin1883.Thenewmembersleased
thesynagoguefromcsifor$1a yearand
promisedto maintainthebuilding. The
synagoguefollowsSephardictraditions,as
itdidwhenitfirstopened,eventhough
mostmembersareAshkenazi(withroots
in Russia and eastern Europe).
The congregations clashed over cji’s
planned sale of rimonim (ceremonial bells
to crown the Torah scroll) made by Myer
Myers, a colonial silversmith, to a Boston
museum for $7.4m. cjihoped to create an
endowment to help maintain the building.
But csiclaimed that selling the artefact vi
olated Jewish law as well as the lease agree
ment. It went to court to assert that it
owned the building and its historical con
tents, including the bells. cjithen sued
csi, seeking ownership of the synagogue
and its artefacts. A federal court first gave
control to Newport’s cji, but an appeals
court ruled in favour of the New York lot,
saying religious groups’ contracts were en
forceable just like any property contract.
The congregations also feuded over a
proposed burial in the longclosed Touro
cemetery. John Loeb, a businessman and
former ambassador, has been a generous
friend to the Newport congregation, which
agreed he could be buried in the cemetery
(the subject of a Longfellow poem). Last
year a headstone was erected in memory of
the still living Mr Loeb. Louis Solomon,
csi’s president, says “the whole problem is
that they haven’t been transparent”. Medi
ators were unable to get the congregations
to agree to a truce. csifiled legal proceed
ings to evict cjifrom Touro. Mr Solomon
wrote to the members on February 3rd pro
mising “no congregants are being evicted”
and that the rabbi is welcome to stay.
Meir Soloveichik, csi’s rabbi, sees his
community as a steward of colonial Jewish
artefacts. csiwants to change the board
overseeing activities at Touro. Louise Ellen
Teitz, copresident of the Newport congre
gation, calls this a “hostile takeover”. She
wants security for her small congregation
in the form of a longterm lease. “This is
the building and the place that we’vewor
shipped for almost 140 years, whichislon
ger than the original congregation.”nN EWPORT, RHODE ISLAND
Rival Jewish congregations feud over
America’s oldest synagogue
Ahistorical Touro d’horizon
L
aughterwasthefirstthingyour
correspondent noticed when he
visited the Daughters of St Paul (also
known as the “Media Nuns”) on the
outskirts of Boston. It reverberated off
the marble saints and through the
convent’s hallways. The primary sourc
es of the mirth are Sisters Orianne
Pietra René, 31, and Danielle Lussier, 38.
The two form a comedy duo. They
giggle as they explain that their cars are
named after saints (some share the
same patron, which causes confusion).
This cheerfulness explains their sur
prising popularity outside the convent.
They have more than 155,000 followers
on TikTok, a socialmedia app.
Their posts, which have gathered
over 15.5m views, blend convent life
with popular culture. Last year, for
example, they posted their rendition of
a viral song that spoofs a melodramatic
exchange on Facebook about a rental
property (a prospective tenant enquires
about the property’s availability before
turning hostile and threatening to call
the attorneygeneral). The nunnified
version turns it into a struggle against
temptation, which culminates with the
nun threatening the devil with Jesus.
The post has 3.3m views.
The nuns quickly became an in
ternet sensation, earning their own
hashtag (#nuntok). The sisters are
unfazed by their sudden popularity.
They would rather pray, which they do a
lot. They pray for every person who
watches their videos. They pray for
those who send them direct messages.
They even pray for the trolls who leave
nasty comments.
Fewer women are responding to the
call of nunhood. There are about 41,
nuns in America, down from 160,
half a century ago. Young Americans are
more secular and antiinstitutional,
making a life of chastity and poverty
seem less appealing. But Sisters Pietra
René and Lussier—who taught French
and studied art, respectively—are proof
that some still find it compelling.
They say TikTok is also helping
people realise that nuns are normal
people. Their online interactions have
led to conversations about faith and
even to friendships. A few fans have
visited the nuns in person. “At the end
of the day all we are asking is to be able
to see one another as human beings,”
Sister Pietra René says.TikToknunsSister act
B OSTON
Agroup of nuns goes viral for Jesus