A temple, a masterwork

More on that in a moment.

First, though, let’s make a visit. Temple Beth Elohim welcomes you before you arrive at the entrance. While you’re still outdoors, crossing a quiet courtyard that separates you from the outside world, you’re walking toward a tall glass wall through which you can see the temple’s entire sanctuary. Nothing feels secret or hidden. Everything feels open. The architecture of clear glass, warm-toned wood, and pale Jerusalem stone is crisp and unpretentious in a way that reminds you of Shaker work.

The heart of the temple, of course, is the sanctuary, seating some 450 for services. Once you’re inside it, you realize that another of the four walls containing the space is also glass. This one is faced with a trellis of maple, through which you can see a ghostly-looking forest of trees. The trellised glass is the backdrop for the altar. The metaphor of a garden is powerful.

During a recent Friday evening service, the sun sank slowly. The stone of the entry courtyard, visible through the clear glass wall, gradually took on a warm ocher tone. Meanwhile, the trees behind the trellised wall morphed from green foliage into darker shapes, visible against the bright sky like a pattern of black damask. Those two worlds outside - the social courtyard and the natural forest - became extensions of the indoor space of the sanctuary. They will, of course, be ever-changing with seasons and weather.

As the world outside grew dim, the sanctuary seemed to brighten. Ceiling lights brought a glow to the many wood surfaces. With the evening shade outside, it was like being at a campfire. The seats can be arranged in different patterns, but wherever you sit you are likely to be face to face with some of your fellow congregants and thus feel you’re in a gathering, not an audience.