Originally a contestant on season 15 of The Bachelor, Hebert was eliminated in the 9th rose ceremony before being selected as this season’s Bachelorette. Mazel Tov to the happy couple—may you be the third couple in the show’s history to actually make it down the aisle.

Ashley Hebert chooses her man on ‘The Bachelorette’ [CNN]
Ashley Hebert, ‘The Bachelorette,’ Chooses JP Rosenbaum As Winner, Gets Engaged [Huffington Post]

The scene came back to bite Schneier a year later when the marriage—Schneier’s fourth—disintegrated. Within months, stories appeared in the New York tabloids hinting at Schneier’s romance with a speech pathologist more than a decade his junior. The rabbi responded with a sensational disclosure of his own: He had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. “He has been dealing with a very serious illness, and we will have no comment on rumor or innuendo,” Schneier’s friend, the public-relations powerhouse Ken Sunshine, told the New York Post. A joke began circulating about what the rabbi’s new girlfriend could get him for his next birthday: “A bipolar bear.”

Schneier, who founded the Hampton Synagogue in Long Island’s summer playground, advertises himself as an 18th-generation scion of a European rabbinic dynasty. He is also one of the few clergy who occasionally turns up in the gossip pages, more often for his secular antics than for his religious pursuits. Last August, as Schneier’s divorce battle turned ugly, the New York Daily News published grainy private-eye images of the rabbi in workout clothes canoodling with his girlfriend, Gitty Leiner, during a Passover vacation in Israel. (His divorce from Tobi is still being litigated, and in the spring, he traveled to South Florida to celebrate Passover with both Leiner and his only child, 12-year-old Brendan, from his third marriage.)

In public, Schneier’s supporters and benefactors have dismissed his travails as a private matter disconnected from his professional duties as a religious authority and communal leader. “As far as what he does in interfaith relations, the personal side does not seem to have impaired his ability to do his work,” said Michael Schneider, the secretary-general of the World Jewish Congress. “We’re not the morality police, and as far as I’m aware he has not committed any criminal act.” Schneier’s congregants have similarly closed ranks behind him. “We all know he has personal issues in his life, and he either got divorced or will be getting divorced, but that’s his personal life,” said Harvey Kaylie, a Long Island electronics manufacturer who has been among the Hampton Synagogue’s most generous donors. “The success and the feeling and the rewards people get from the synagogue—I can’t compare it to any other synagogue, so he must be doing something right.” Schneier’s friend Jay Rosenbaum, the rabbi of a Reform congregation in suburban Long Island and a former officer of the New York Board of Rabbis, introduced him at a Martin Luther King, Jr. event last winter this way: “He is an individual who does what is right. A courageous soul. A true religious personality. A leader not only of world Jewry, but truly, a world leader.”

Nevertheless, in the weeks after the photographs of Schneier and Leiner appeared, officers of the Rabbinical Council of America, the professional association of Orthodox rabbis—of which Schneier is a member—quietly asked Schneier to resign, a development reported by the Jewish Week. When Schneier declined, the group convened a formal board of inquiry to determine whether he had failed to maintain the standards of decorum expected of an Orthodox rabbi. (Rabbi Shmuel Goldin, the president of the RCA, told me that the inquiry remains open.) Around the same time, Schneier went on sabbatical from his synagogue, an off-season absence he publicly explained as a leave for a book project he is developing with the imam of Manhattan’s largest mosque. Jerry Levin, a synagogue trustee, told me, “We agreed on a sabbatical. I don’t know that we ever got into details of what it was for.” (Schneier says he has not yet signed a publishing contract for the book.)

In the past year, Schneier has been as visible as ever, jetting around the world to represent Jewish interests in a variety of forums. In October, he went to Qatar in his capacity as a vice-president of the World Jewish Congress, of which he is a former chairman, to attend an interfaith summit and used his keynote to rebuke an imam in the name of his fellow Jews. “For millennia we have prayed toward Jerusalem,” the rabbi said. “It is therefore an insult to all of us to accuse us of illegally occupying the city.” The next month, he was in London speaking at the House of Lords. More recently, he’s met with Donald Trump about the developer’s abortive presidential campaign, and been consulted by the Los Angeles Times on the Jewish reaction to President Barack Obama’s Middle East peace plan. Virtually the only real price Schneier has paid for his indiscretion has been his conspicuous absence from Newsweek’s annual ranking of the 50 most influential rabbis in America, after he made the list in 2009 and 2010. In an interview, Schneier said that he had been ineligible for this year’s edition because of his pulpit leave of absence. (In response to a query from Tablet, Newsweek said that was not the case. “No rabbis under consideration were disqualified because of sabbatical status,” said Abigail Pogrebin, who helped compile this year’s list.)

Schneier has now returned to the pulpit in Westhampton Beach he has occupied for 21 years. Last week, more than a hundred congregants, many of them elderly, turned out, at 11 p.m. on a Tuesday night, to celebrate Shavuot. The rabbi, who wore a beige blazer and an open-collared shirt, led a lively debate about the specifically Jewish view of the biblical Ten Commandments. The synagogue’s full calendar for the summer season, featuring a performance by the Broadway star Tovah Feldshuh and an evening with political commentator Peter Beinart, testifies to the rabbi’s undiminished clout—and to the willingness of his colleagues and his wealthy backers to let him remain in place as one of the most prominent spokespeople for American Jewry.

***

At 52, Schneier cultivates a manicured presence. He wears eyeglasses from the high-end French brand Fred—which he usually takes off before speaking in public, because, he told me, he thinks he looks at least five years younger without them—and favors French-cuffed shirts accented with Hermès ties. He has a round face framed by receding curls, which on his stocky frame lends him more than a passing resemblance to Bert Lahr. Since his diagnosis as bipolar last year, Schneier says, he has become a “treadmill freak.” “I’ve lost 25 pounds since June,” he told me in March as we walked to a Washington hotspot called Bistro Bis, where we sat down for an extended interview over dinner. After being told that his favorite meal—tuna tartare—was unavailable on the dinner menu, Schneier ordered a beet salad and a mushroom risotto, which in deference to kashrut he asked to have prepared with a vegan base.

Even after going through the tabloid wringer, Schneier still prides himself on the attention he gets from the press. When I asked him about an old clip about a Passover Seder he celebrated in 1993 with Raul Julia, Schneier immediately nodded, saying, “Yeah, on ‘Page Six.’ ” When I said the item I’d seen had come from the Jewish Forward, he shook his head. “Also on ‘Page Six,’ ” he insisted, referring to the New York Post’s legendary gossip roundup. “No, no, it was ‘Page Six.’ ”

Continue reading: the family business, Modern Orthodox day school, and the Westhampton Shab-bus. Or view as a single page.

On a cool October morning, actress Natalie Portman is wearing a jean jacket and dangling beaded earrings, sipping tea in Schiller’s Liquor Bar on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. She talks about the difference between Jews in Israel and Jews in Long Island. “I definitely know what being Jewish in Israel means and what being Jewish in America means,” says this 24-year-old, who was born in Israel to an Israeli father, fertility specialist Dr. Avner Hershlag, and an American mother, artist Shelley Hershlag.

They moved to the United States when she was 3, and they return to Israel every year to visit family. Portman, who uses her grandmother’s maiden name professionally, attended Jewish day schools until eighth grade—mostly, she says, because her parents wanted her to keep up her Hebrew. But the Hershlags were not a religious family, nor involved in the local synagogue. “I grew up in the classic American Jewish suburbia, which has a whole different sense of what it means to be Jewish than anywhere else in the world.”

I ask her to elaborate. “The people I grew up with on Long Island are wonderful people. But I have friends who grew up in $5 million homes, they all drive BMWs, and the only places they’ve been to outside the United States are the islands in the Caribbean. Which is fine, it’s a choice, and I don’t want to be critical of that. But I am. I think it can definitely be a problem, especially since American Jews are the ones who are in a position—politically and financially—to help other Jews around the world who are facing problems that we can’t conceive of.”

Portman explains why she never felt a pull to be a part of Jewish life in her Syosset neighborhood. “I never liked going to temple on Long Island because it just had that aura of someone’s fake party to me, which always made me uncomfortable. So I never went to temple at home, I never got bat mitzvahed, I just sort of rejected that whole thing; it seemed so tied up with values that I hated. But on the other hand, when I go to Israel, I always want to go to temple on the High Holy Days even if no one in my family is going with me. I’ll fast. One year in Israel, my family went to Jaffa to get pizza on Pesach and I would not do that. You know, I get much more Jewish in Israel because I like the way that religion is done there.”

As she describes some of her Long Island girlfriends, the slur “JAP” pops into my head and I ask how she feels when someone uses the word. “I mean, I grew up in a Long Island public school that was 60 to 70 percent Jewish and I know what a JAP is,” she says, sipping her tea. “But obviously the word shouldn’t be misused. I wouldn’t want to have stereotypes used in derogatory ways by people outside the Jewish community, but I think it is something from within the community that we need to examine and be self-critical about, because it’s how we’re raising our young people.”

“I had a fashion designer tell me that when I wear a dress of his, it sells out across the country because Jewish girls ‘look to me,’ and Jewish girls are the ones that buy expensive dresses. It made me sort of sad, because I want to be an influence in ways other than by a pretty dress.”

I ask if she’s felt pressure to use her celebrity on behalf of Israeli causes. “I’m very comfortable with that,” she says, “and I’m currently exploring ways to help because I love the country.” She’s recently become more protective of Israel, in part because people around her have become more impatient with it. “I have a very close friend who lately has this European, anti-Israel way of thinking, and it’s very hard for me to have conversations with him. He says, ‘Can’t you be self-critical?’ But it’s hard to be publicly critical. It has to be done in a very delicate, well-thought-out manner. These issues come up at parties and dinners with people who don’t know a lot, and as someone who was born in Israel, you’re put in a position of defending Israel because you know how much is at stake. It’s become a much bigger part of my identity in recent years because it’s become an issue of survival.”

I turn the conversation to her career, asking if she feels some Jewish pride in being considered a Hollywood beauty. “Yeah,” she replies. “The hard thing is that people often don’t associate me with being Jewish. I’m not someone who you look at and say, ‘You’re Jewish.’ People ask me if I’m Spanish, Italian, or even WASPy. So I don’t think I can be representative. But in another way, I think I look very Jewish because all the Jewish girls I grew up with, we all look the same: small, short, skinny, dark hair, dark eyes. Little noses.” She laughs. “So maybe it is time for a new type. I’d like it if people thought I was Jewish-looking.”

She did play an iconic Jew, Anne Frank, on Broadway at the age of 16, and I wonder how personally Portman connected to the character. “Very personally,” she says. “Because my grandparents didn’t talk about those years much, especially my grandfather. His younger brother, who was 14 at the time, was in hiding from the Nazis and couldn’t take it one more day and ran out and was shot in the streets. And his parents were killed at Auschwitz. He was the one I’d always related to in the family. He was sort of the quiet, brilliant man who led Pesach and I would always imagine him or his father in these horrifying humiliating conditions. The humiliation is almost harder for me to imagine than the physical pain.”

When it comes to Portman’s own romantic life, it has obviously been a staple of gossip columns, but she says she’s not necessarily looking for a Jewish husband. “A priority for me is definitely that I’d like to raise my kids Jewish, but the ultimate thing is just to have someone who is a good person and who is a partner.” She says her parents don’t push her one way or another. “My dad always makes this stupid joke with my new boyfriend, who is not Jewish. He says, ‘It’s just a simple operation.’” She laughs. “They’ve always said to me that they mainly want me to be happy and that’s the most important thing, but they’ve also said that if you marry someone with the same religion, it’s one less thing to fight about. But according to that argument, I might as well only date vegetarian guys.”

She doesn’t think it necessarily takes two Jews to maintain Jewish continuity in a family. “I feel the strength to carry that on myself. It’s obviously easier when both parents are in it together, but I don’t necessarily think it has to be.”

Portman says she resists any kind of blind tribalism. “I don’t believe in going along with anything without questioning. I think that’s the basis of Judaism: questioning and skepticism.” She says that for her, basic humanity comes before faith. “To me, the most important concept in Judaism is that you can break any law of Judaism to save a human life. I think that’s the most important thing. Which means to me that humans are more important than Jews are to me. Or than being Jewish is to me.”

Excerpted from Stars of David: Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish by Abigail Pogrebin. Copyright 2005 by Abigail Pogrebin. Used by permission of Broadway Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

Simchat Democracy (otherwise known as Election Day) had closed with Bishop the apparent winner, but days later, Altschuler claimed the lead when it was discovered that a voting machine (no doubt an anti-Semitic one) had under-reported the number of ballots cast. The campaigns were due in court today to continue sorting through the remaining 1,000 challenged votes before Altschuler issued his concession.

As his name perhaps suggests, Bishop is not Jewish.

Randy Altschuler Concedes, Ending Last Contested House Race [Politico]
Earlier: A Few New Jews
It Happened Last Night

• Several American Jewish religious leaders called on Prime Minister Netanyahu to withdraw the Yisrael Beiteinu-sponsored conversion bill. They warn that it would concentrate power over who qualifies for the Law of Return with the Chief Rabbinate. [JTA]

• Apparently, someone wants to do for Jews on Long Island what Jersey Shore has done for Italian-Americans in New Jersey. [Crushable]

• Russian President Dmitry Medvedev urged Hamas leader Khaled Meshal to release kidnapped Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit. [Ynet]

• The late DJ AM, born Adam Goldstein, has a crucial cameo in the box office-smashing Iron Man 2. [LAT]

• An extensive interview with novelist Nathan Englander, in part touching on his story in this week’s New Yorker. [Book Bench]

Netanyahu accused Iran of trying to get Israel and Syria to start firing things at each other. President Ahmadinejad?

Cops ID Body Found in Burning Car Behind Freeport Temple [Newsday]
Torched Body Found Near B’nai Israel Temple in Freeport, Long Island [Daily News]

Judge Dismisses Lawrence Parents’ School Lawsuit [Newsday]
Earlier: Secular L.I. Parents Sue Orthodox-Run School Board

The suit claims that the board’s recent decision to shut down the district’s newest elementary school in the face of falling enrollment—allegedly with the ulterior motive of cherry-picking the best facility to sell or lease to a yeshiva—amounts to the backdoor establishment of religion, in violation of the First Amendment. It’s the latest flare-up in long-running tensions between Orthodox residents, on one hand, and secular Jews and non-Jewish residents, on the other, who are steadily being crowded out of the community. (Previous iterations have included vicious budget fights and contract disputes.) Lawyers for the school board dismiss the accusations and insist the public will “not only be aware, but they will participate in the process.” Which, of course, means the entire public, not just those who use the public schools.

First Amendment Suit Filed in Woodmere School Closure [Newsday]

The Levitts, a Jewish family with roots in Russia and Austria, built the first of these towns on Long Island between 1947 and 1951. The second was built north of Philadelphia in the early ’50s. With their appliance-stocked homes, public pools and playgrounds, the Levitts proved adept at tapping into the suburban zeitgeist. But William Levitt (whose father, Abraham, founded the company, and whose brother, Alfred, was the firm’s architect) excluded blacks from living in his family’s developments, arguing that potential white home buyers would find racially mixed areas undesirable.

Aerial view of Levittown, Pennsylvania, c. 1959

During the summer of 1957, this whites-only policy was challenged when a leftist Jewish family, the Wechslers, secretly helped an African-American family buy a house in Levittown, Pa. After Bill and Daisy Myers and their two children moved into Levittown, racial tensions erupted.

In his new book, Levittown: Two Families, One Tycoon, and the Fight for Civil Rights in America’s Legendary Suburb, David Kushner vividly depicts how that battle raged, and was ultimately resolved in the courts. Kushner, who grew outside Tampa, Florida, says he “always has had a soft spot for suburbs,” and is particularly intrigued by their dark underside. In Levittown, he tells a story that pitted Jew versus Jew—William Levitt’s myopic and ultimately unsuccessful business strategy against the Wechslers’ refusal to tolerate segregation.

You first learned about this story because your mother-in-law was neighbors with the Wechslers.

What struck me about it was there was this coming together of so many historical themes: civil rights, McCarthyism, the invention of modern suburbia. Levittown was not the first postwar suburb, but it was iconic.

Aside from barring black families, the Levitts imposed a “no-Jews” policy in one of their earlier developments. So was William Levitt focused solely on profits?

He was really compartmentalized. The way he looked at it was, “I can either fight for civil rights or I can build houses. And I’m a builder.”

On the one hand, he provided the American Dream for an entire generation of veterans, but he also denied it for African-American veterans. He was a complicated person. It would have been difficult for me to write this story had he been the only Jewish character in the book—that could have perpetuated some unfortunate stereotypes. As a Jewish writer, it’s nice to be able to tell a story where there’s Jewish family that’s heroic in fighting for civil rights, a movement where Jews like the Wechslers played a huge role.

The Wechslers and Levitts seem to highlight two different strains in American Jewish history: leftist activists versus those seeking material success.

That’s true. From what I gather, though, Levitt was on the left side of the political spectrum. He was materially motivated for sure, but he was also motivated by ego—he had the towns named after him. The Wechslers were all about helping people. Levitt was ostensibly about helping people, but just so he could be called the king.

Levitt was very philanthropic and certainly very supportive of Israel. When I visited his widow, there was a picture of Golda Meir on the wall.

How does his widow feel about her husband’s legacy?

She certainly has reached out to Daisy Myers, and she was there when the town honored Daisy in 1999. Actions speak louder than words. Also, she came in later in Levitt’s life; she wasn’t there when he was building Levittown.

The racial hatred that erupted in Levittown after the Myers family moved in was incredible: the mobs, the rocks, even crosses being burnt.

I didn’t want to oversimplify it. I took pains to show that while there was a mob in Levittown, the mob represented a small percentage of people there. The situation also inspired the best in this town—I’m thinking of the scene when Daisy Myers comes home and finds people she didn’t know cleaning her house.

A recent New York Times article on Levittown mentioned that the town is still overwhelmingly white. Is this the Levitt family’s legacy?

Yes. Many people are old enough to remember that this town was not welcoming to blacks. This is similar to Jews not wanting to go to Germany. It’s not exactly the same thing, but there are black people who don’t want to live in Levittown.

But I hope I vindicated Alfred Levitt. He’s the real hero. The houses in Levittown were ticky-tacky little boxes, but that was for a reason. People couldn’t afford anything else. People there had brand-new appliances, which was unheard of. And the houses were built to be expanded.

The New York Times also recently reported that Long Island is 94% segregated—the highest rate in the country. In Levittown, Pa., African Americans are still very much a minority population and I don’t see that changing. But one thing people can get out of this story—blacks and Jews can get together, because in Levittown, they certainly did.