photograph by jon w. sparks
Viewers entering the exhibition space at Temple Israel see a banner with a photo of Rabbi Wax. The exhibit was curated by Laura Gray McCann and the narrative written by Tom Jones. The photo on the banner was taken by Alan Karchmer.
Rabbi James Wax was a powerful presence in Memphis history and many remember him for his role in serving his congregation and his city. He was senior rabbi at Temple Israel from 1954 to 1978 and his dedication to his faith and to his community resonate to this day.
His contributions on so many levels were significant, and his life is presented in a new exhibition at Temple Israel: “Righteous Among Men: Rabbi James A. Wax, A Life Dedicated to Social Justice.” Much of the information in this article came from the exhibit narrative.
As happens with some people of destiny, Wax had a moment in history that put him in the spotlight. It brought him praise and condemnation and is, for many, the one thing they remember about him. Yet his life was a steady stream of achievements and he inspired people over decades of service. The exhibit takes a thorough look at his life and the many ways he impacted society, from his religious principles to his involvement in the city’s life.
“Speak out in favor of human dignity for every person. Let us not hide behind legal technicalities. Let us not wrap ourselves up in slogans. Let us do the will of God for the good of the city.” — Rabbi James Wax
That one shining moment was breathtaking in its boldness. Wax was president of the Memphis Ministers Association in 1968 — a time when he was the only rabbi in a group of 115 ministers, of which only 15 were Black. By this time, he had already been a longtime advocate of civil rights issues, having joined the board of the Memphis Urban League in 1952, and having been honored by the Tri-State Defender for working to bring peace and harmony between the races.
But that key moment came in 1968, when the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in Memphis. He had come to town to support the striking sanitation workers whose efforts were being strongly resisted by Mayor Henry Loeb. Wax, working with Black and white ministers, had been pressuring the mayor to resolve the strike before King came to town. The assassination on April 4, 1968, changed everything. “I decided to participate in the march and call on the mayor,” he wrote to a colleague.
The rabbi’s rebuke of the mayor got national coverage and lifted Wax’s profile. He got 81 letters of support, and 121 letters of condemnation. There were countless hostile phone calls and a loss of friends. Some members of the congregation talked of removing him from the pulpit, but the temple’s board of trustees refused to consider such an action — although other ministers who had participated in the march did lose their jobs.
It was an electrifying moment and because of the drama and wide exposure, it was destined to stay with Wax. In part, it was because he not only talked the talk, but he walked the walk. Temple Israel’s current senior rabbi, Micah Greenstein, reflected on this aspect of Wax’s commitment. “There was no fence sitting with Rabbi Wax,” Greenstein says. “He was one big call to action. When people ask, ‘Would you have done what he had done?’ It’s very easy to say we would have — but we probably wouldn’t have. He’s a reminder that it’s not impossible to take a stand when it’s a matter of moral conscience.”
Wax took action because he believed in the necessity of social justice, partly because it had long been at the core of Temple Israel’s mission, but more fully because it applied to all of civilization. As Greenstein says, “He reminded us that the purpose of Judaism is, as Eli Wiesel said, to make the world more human. God does mean one humanity, and I think that’s what Rabbi Wax essentially was saying to Mayor Loeb.”
While there may be satisfaction in doing the right thing, even if controversial, it doesn’t necessarily follow that there will be great public approval. “There’s a tendency to glorify people after they’ve died,” Greenstein says. “Dr. King was vilified at the end of his life — he was disinvited by the NAACP to speak because of his stance on Vietnam. And similarly, everyone now quotes Rabbi Wax, but he was very lonely. He wasn’t alone, but he was lonely. I guess that’s the price one pays, and yet maybe that will move us to be more honest in our own self accounting and not be afraid.”
photograph by jon w. sparks
Rabbi Micah Greenstein is flanked by pictures taken by Commercial Appeal photographer Robert H. “Bob” Williams of the 1968 City Hall meeting with Mayor Henry Loeb.
The Life of Rabbi James Wax
One might not imagine that a young Jewish man who was born and grew up in the tiny town of Herculaneum, Missouri, just south of St. Louis, would turn out to be the fierce proponent of Judaism and defender of humanity working out of a synagogue in Memphis. For one thing, there were barely any other Jews in his hometown. He excelled academically and was known as a fine speaker. He spoke to community organizations and in Christian churches, talking about patriotism, brotherhood, values, and citizenship. In 1930, he gave his high school commencement address on “Missouri’s Ability to Finance Education.” He decided he wanted to study law and become governor of Missouri.
A transformative moment came when a Methodist minister in his hometown encouraged him to become a rabbi, and on graduation from college, Wax applied to the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati — but he was rejected as he did not know Hebrew. His solution was to take a crash course in the language and he was eventually admitted in 1935. He studied, he preached around the region, and he learned from Rabbi Stephen S. Wise, a charismatic orator, a champion for social justice, a leader of the Reform Movement, and a founder of the NAACP. Inspired, Wax wrote: “The Jew has a duty to save civilized values and to hold on to the moral standards now trampled upon. He is fighting for man and for God.”
“Jews are better Jews and Christians are better Christians because of Jimmy.” — Rev. Frank McRae, St. John’s United Methodist Church
At age 29, he wrote: “If America is to be truly free as the leader of nations, it must redeem itself from injustices that detract from the happiness of countless Americans.”
Wax continued his work as a rabbi and as a proponent of social justice. He was in a photo published in Life magazine in 1945 testifying on behalf of the Central Conference of American Rabbis before the U.S. Senate Foreign Relations Committee in support of the United Nations. The next year, he applied for an opening as an assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in Memphis.
It was here where he could put his convictions to work and where he found additional influences. Rabbi Harry W. Ettelson, Temple Israel’s senior rabbi, had interests in public policy, was a founder of the National Conference of Christians and Jews, and believed that community service carried more weight than rituals — or put another way, rights over rites. Still, Wax made sure a number of customs were included at the synagogue.
photograph by jon w. sparks
A bust of Rabbi Wax by noted sculptor Ted Rust, who was also the director of the Memphis Academy of Arts.
Wax was also a vigorous advocate of providing mental health treatment. It was a time when admitting mental issues was considered shameful, but he was having none of that. He was elected president of the newly formed Memphis-Shelby County Mental Hygiene Society in 1950 and pushed to establish a mental health clinic in Memphis. In 1956, the governor appointed him as a trustee on the first Tennessee Mental Health Commission, a position he held for more than 25 years. In 1962, thanks to his influence, the Tennessee Psychiatric Hospital and Institute opened near downtown Memphis.
His dedication to making sure the city had proper mental health resources led him to another conflict with a political bigwig. Tennessee Governor Ray Blanton fired the superintendent at Western State Hospital in Bolivar and installed one of his political cronies. Wax went face-to-face with the governor and said: “There is a difference between patronage in the Highway Department dealing with concrete and roads and patronage dealing with lives.”
He further said, “The sad fact, governor, is the people of our state disapprove, strongly disapprove of any political intervention in the operations of our hospitals.” The state Mental Health Board would later adopt a policy statement submitted by Wax that would prohibit hospital employees from dismissal except by the hospital’s superintendent.
Rabbi Wax received countless awards in recognition of his work in an array of areas. But he felt that his finest achievement was the building of a new synagogue at its current location on East Massey Road. It was constructed to reaffirm the congregation’s religious heritage, but it is also outward-looking. Rabbi Greenstein says, “It’s part of our mission to be a force for good. That’s why the sanctuary is in a semi-circle — it was designed with the other half in mind, which is the community, to live the words we pray.”
The fullness of Wax’s contributions are well displayed in the exhibit at Temple Israel, from his intellectual explorations to his love of Judaism to his passion for social justice to his devotion to the people of Memphis.
Leave it to another distinguished clergyman who was a good friend of Wax in good times and bad to deliver the benediction. The Rev. Frank McRae, minister of St. John’s United Methodist Church, said, “Jews are better Jews and Christians are better Christians because Jimmy was around.”
“Righteous Among Men: Rabbi James A. Wax, A Life Dedicated to Social Justice” is on display at Temple Israel, 1376 East Massey Road.
