At Temple Beth Ami in Bustleton, history is being preserved every day.
Barry Stucker is the president of Beth Ami and enjoys recounting the stories of its past. He has been a member at the synagogue for more than five decades and knows its history inside and out. The synagogue still embodies the spirit of those who founded it. In the mid 1950s, a group of Philadelphians, some of them veterans of World War II and the Korean War, came together with a common goal: establish a place that could help create a more Jewish future for the next generations of residents.
“Many of them had no Jewish background other than being born Jewish. Their mothers were Jewish. They may have had matzah on Passover or latkes at Chanukah, but they wanted something more, not necessarily for themselves, but the children that they were having,” Stucker said.
Most of these members wanted to find a balance between the area’s Reform and Orthodox synagogues and came together with the intention of worshipping Judaism in a conservative fashion. First, they would gather in each other’s houses, always ensuring they had a minyan.
“Then they said, ‘Well, there’s more and more people who are interested. More and more Jewish people are moving to Northeast [Philadelphia]. Let’s see if we can do some fundraising and see if we can find a plot of land that is available. They came upon the plot of land that was where the synagogue was eventually built,” Stucker said.
Back then, the road they built on was just called Bustleton Avenue, not Old Bustleton Avenue.
Upon its official founding in 1955, the synagogue thrived for decades before its membership began to thin as Jews moved out of Northeast Philly and into suburban parts of the Delaware Valley. Today, Stucker describes Beth Ami as a “do-it-yourself shul.”
The rabbi is Mitchell Novitsky, and he serves on a part-time basis. When he’s not there, Stucker serves as head of the synagogue, with help from other congregants.
In many ways, it feels like Beth Ami has returned to its roots: It’s not a powerful institution or a synagogue that’s hosting events every week with a litany of clubs. It’s just a small community of people who love being Jewish and want to preserve that tradition for those who will come after them.
“We have all volunteers. We have one man who leads off the service; another man who [conducts the] Pesukei D’zimra and the morning service. One man, when the rabbi is not there, he will read the Torah — he does a very good job. Another one, [who leads] the additional service. We have a couple that comes in at the end of the service, and someone who’s observing a yahrzeit, they will lead the congregation for the final mourner’s Kaddish,” Stucker said.
Since the Oct. 7 attacks by Hamas on Israeli citizens, Temple Beth Ami has added a prayer in English for American Jews, for Israel, for the IDF, for the hostages who still remain in captivity and for those murdered by Hamas.
These days, in addition to regular weekly services and holiday celebrations, the Beth Ami community hosts an Orthodox boys summer camp run by an outside organization. During the school year, their facilities are used by some of the students of the nearby Politz Hebrew Academy.
“We get income,” Stucker said.
With that being said, the Temple Beth Ami congregants enjoy their tenants all the same. Stucker said that it is nice to have youth in the building, with both the camp and the school bringing fresh energy to the synagogue.
While the synagogue may be less busy than it was during the Carter or Ford administrations, things are still looking up. Stucker said more people are joining Temple Beth Ami as other shuls close. Beth Ami is nothing if not steady, and people seem to appreciate that. As of now, there are about 135 members. Stucker recalled the Passover Seders that used to be standing room only, in part because of the inclusion of members of a nearby church who were interested in the holiday through the lens of the Last Supper.
It’s less crowded than it was when there were as many as 400 or 500 people coming to services and holidays, but the spirit remains the same.
“It’s not the big, beautiful building that’s erected, whether it’s a church or a synagogue or a mosque,” Stucker said. “It’s the people who are there.”
