Its founding members are now few in number, with only Herman Lefkowitz and Mel Cotton of Mel Cotton's Sporting Goods store on W. San Carlos still alive. But Rita Pearl, whose husband, Manny, was one of the founders, says, "We all grew up in tradition." The Jewish families that moved from the East Coast or emigrated from Europe after World War II were used to a more traditional form of worship, she says, and it did not exist in San Jose during the 1950s.

"We needed another synagogue in the city," says Mel Cotton.

Because the small Jewish population did not have enough membership to support the establishment of both a Conservative and Orthodox synagogue, it remained unaffiliated with either movement. The members took an independent approach but traditional way in how they conducted services, says Rina Katzen, who moved from Israel in 1960 and has taught Hebrew at San Jose State University for 32 years.

Today the synagogue has grown to 190 members and continues to intertwine a strong sense of traditional Judaism within its community.

In 1997, the congregation voted to join the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism. The only other member in the area is Congregation Beth David in Saratoga.

"The Conservative movement doesn't mean that we're all Republicans," Congregation Sinai Rabbi Eitan Julius says. "We are defined by a traditional liturgical service in its entirety, which is mostly in Hebrew. Before we joined the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism there was a misconception that Sinai was Orthodox."

Some of that confusion may have arisen from the congregation's unique heritage, which is still evident during its services, as it holds two services simultaneously—a traditional one with only men leading and an "egalitarian" one that involves everyone regardless of gender.

"We're flexible traditionalists," says Al Sporer, who has attended the synagogue with his wife for 46 years.

Yet it was Julius' arrival seven years ago that brought the two services into balance. By trading off who uses the main sanctuary and bringing members together for final prayer, 40-year-old Julius has introduced changes that have made the co-existence of the traditional and egalitarian groups run more harmoniously.

"People are energized by the different approaches," Ruth Sporer says.

Despite the tension that may have divided the two different prayer groups in the past, there is an "inclusive attitude" that accommodates "every style of Jewishness," says Al Sporer.

Julius says, "What's unique now is that we're lay-led."

Volunteers conduct the prayer readings at all services except during the High Holy Days—Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur—when a cantorial student leads worship.

"Rabbi likes to get as many people involved as possible," Congregation Sinai Board President Phil Kipnis says. "It's impossible to be anonymous in this synagogue."

The Sporers are one example of this involvement. Like many other members, Al, who attended a yeshiva—Jewish seminary school— volunteers to lead prayers.

He attends either the traditional or egalitarian prayer group when one group is smaller to help make up the needed 10 worshipers or minyan, which is required to start a service.

And encouraging participation is also extended to any guest attending Saturday morning Shabbat services by approaching them and asking if they want to lead a prayer, Julius says.

"It's not your standard synagogue where you sit back with your hands folded, waiting for everybody else to do everything," he says. "This is a synagogue where if you're willing to roll up your sleeves, get involved, get educated, maybe remember what it was that you did for your bar mitzvah, we're going to help you along."

He notes the members of Sinai willingly commit to this hands-on involvement.

"If you're going to be a member of Sinai, it demands something of you," he continues. "In that respect, because of the quality of our membership, we're smaller, but we're stronger."

Only a few blocks away are two Orthodox synagogues—Ahavas Torah-Torah Orthodox Congregation and Am Echad Torah Community, both on Meridian Avenue. These smaller congregations started when former members of Sinai split off because they wanted to maintain strict Orthodox traditions.

"We're like the big guys on the street," Julius says. "But in the context of the four liberal congregations in our area, we're really the small one," he says.

Yet Sinai is looking to grow.

"We're a small organization on the verge of moving into being a medium-sized organization," says Julius, with aspirations toward reaching 300 members.

Part of the synagogue's growth will hopefully be aided by an expansion of its facilities, Julius says. Two acres of its four-acre site were recently sold to a developer, enabling the synagogue to use the funds for renovation.

Photograph by Doug Zimmerman Early Beliefs: On Sunday mornings children at Conservative synagogue Congregation Sinai attend Hebrew School. Joshua Zalk (center) and Branden Katzman (right) wear the traditional yamulke, head covering, as they recite the morning prayers.

"Our philosophy is to make children comfortable and welcome in synagogue even if they just see it as a lot of fun," says Julius, who grew up attending a large synagogue in Philadelphia.

Julius says that for him as a young child, the rabbi "was to be feared or avoided," but he only sees that as a deterrent and advocates a much more open approach. He hands out candy to the children and lets them play in his office during the services. He makes himself accessible to all members, young and old, and he admonishes those who think they might be bothering him, such as during a family illness.

And Julius is willing to work with families no matter what the issue might be.

"Often there'll be a bar mitzvah family that says, 'I want to join Sinai but I'm afraid about my son's dyslexia.' I say, 'Don't worry. We'll work it out,'" he says.

Kipnis adds, "It's not uncommon that someone will be called to read from Torah and they'll have their infant child in their arms or a child playing at their feet; in a more traditional atmosphere at other synagogues that's not acceptable. Here it's encouraged, it's nurtured, because where else are children going to learn the love of synagogue other than in synagogue?"

Children who grew up in this synagogue are proving that true with their own families.

"I grew up in Willow Glen," says Thalia Greene, who now lives in Almaden with her family. "My kids are now the second generation at Sinai."

The Sporers have also watched their two daughters grow up, move back after college and attend services with their families.

"It gets under your skin, the low-key, informal atmosphere," says Ruth Sporer.

Her daughter Amy (Sporer) Schiff wants her children to grow up going to synagogue with their grandfather in the congregation she attended as a child.

"You're less likely to go if you don't have that strong connection," she says. "Being Jewish is knowing the generations are speaking to you, that you are part of a peoplehood."

The three generations of their family gather for Shabbat dinners every week because Judaism is passed down through rituals, Schiff says.

The multigenerational trend "is something we're excited about," says Julius. "It isn't just the California experience of nobody having any roots."

Schiff says, "One of the definitions of being Jewish is knowing your grandchildren are Jewish, so my parents have succeeded."

Schiff credits her grandmother, Betty Aronow, and mother with passing down her passion for Israel and her father's side for the religious observance of rituals.

"I'm the product of a mixed marriage," she jokes, explaining that her father grew up in an Orthodox home, while her mother grew up in a non-observant Jewish household.

It's this diversity in Jewish beliefs that Julius readily accepts.

"He's a young man, but he has gifts, it's his personality, depth and humanitarianism," Katzen says. "For him, being a rabbi is not just a job, it's a life mission."

So strong a mission that the rabbi wants people to know that their synagogue does not discriminate against interfaith families or gay and lesbian couples.

"We want to welcome back those who grew up in Conservative or Orthodox backgrounds," he says. "We want you here."

They even offer classes in introductory Hebrew.

Kipnis adds, "People who join this synagogue aren't shy. They definitely don't want to be passive about their life and Judaism and what they give back to the community," he says, citing Sinai's high per capita involvement in other Jewish organizations.

"It can't just end at the door of the synagogue, you have to take it home and make it part of your life 24/7, 365 days of the year," Julius says.

That commitment to Judaism is often profoundly felt during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which this year began at sundown on Sept. 26 and culminates at sunset on Oct. 6. Yet Kipnis says, "There is something within us as human beings to tikkun olam, to heal the world. Whether it be Salk or Justice Ginsberg, Jew is a verb. Those of us who get it, get it."

Building Blocks: Conservative synagogue Congregation Sinai has been on Willowbrae Avenue in Willow Glen for almost 50 years. It recently sold two acres of land to raise funds for the renovation of its facilities.