Simon Eichelkatz; The Patriarch. Two Stories of Jewish Life

September 9, 1900.
To-day I was called to attend an old man who lives at the Flour Market, almost opposite the New Synagogue. The messenger told me I could not possibly miss the house, because the steps leading up to the old man's rooms were built on the outside; and this is in peculiar contrast to the modern architecture prevailing in the city. In fact, I do not know whether another house so curiously constructed is to be seen anywhere else in the place. And so I found it without much questioning. At any rate, I knew of the New Synagogue. I have never entered it, yet a soft, secret wave of religious feeling creeps over me each time I pass it, and that happens frequently. The synagogue lies on the road to the extensive factory quarter built up by one of the large manufacturers for his employees. My professional duties often take me there.
The synagogue!—I always look at the simple structure, devoid of ornament, with mixed feelings of veneration and awe. I hold tradition in high regard. After all it counts for something that a man is the offspring of a pious race, which cherishes learning and Yichus . How does the Hebrew word happen to come to me? The synagogue keeps its grip on what belongs to it—and on me, too! Yet I should not be able to pray within its walls—although it was in such a place as this synagogue that my father taught the word of God.
In fact, is it possible for us moderns still to pray? And then those remarkable Hebrew words, unintelligible to most of us now— Ovinu Malkenu! The Church has converted them into the Lord's Prayer, the most fervent of its prayers. Ovinu Malkenu! I see myself a little chap standing next to my father. How surcharged these words with belief and faith and hope when spoken by him: Ovinu Malkenu chosvenu be-Sefer Parnossoh ve-Chalkoloh — Give us this day our daily bread!
Synagogue and church! Hebrew or German or Latin? The shrill call of the Shofar, or the soft sense-enslaving tones of the organ? I believe modern man can pray only in the dumb speech of the heart.