The congregation of the Evangelical Covenant Church of Attleboro in their sanctuary.
It was Saturday morning, October 14, when Tim Johnson, interim pastor of the Evangelical Covenant Church in Attleboro, Massachusetts, got the call from one of the women in his church. Upon arrival at the church parking lot, he was greeted by the sight of sixty or so people milling around, unsure of what exactly to do. So he did what he’d been taught to do—he brought ‘em inside.
The people were from Congregation Agudas Achim, a Jewish synagogue just across the main road. The Jewish congregants had intended to gather for a bat mitzvah celebration, a rite of passage that symbolizes a young girl’s transition to adulthood. But they were turned away from their building by police officers in squad cruisers who had been alerted to the threat of a bomb inside the synagogue. Without any other clear alternative, they gradually began crossing the street to congregate next door at the Covenant church.
“They came in, and most of them had never been here before,” said Johnson. “We took them to our fellowship hall, they looked at it, and said, ‘Can we meet here for now?’ and I said, “Yeah, you can have it all day if you need.’”
Springing into action, Johnson, associate pastor Chris Wall, who was already onsite for a ministry serving food to houseless neighbors, and several other people began setting up for the folks from Agudas Achim. They set up chairs, they moved their communion table and lectern into the space, set up a projector, and Johnson lent the Rabbi Talya Shalem his laptop so she could download her order of worship. Soon after, the Jewish congregation gathered and began their service, with Johnson observing from outside the room. Eventually, after police inspected the synagogue and declared it safe to return, the congregation began filing back across the street to their original destination, but not before Rabbi Shalem invited Johnson to join them in the celebration.
The ecumenical cooperation was not unusual between the two congregations; their common history dates much further back than the proximity of their locations, both of which were purchased around the 1970s.
“The Jewish immigration followed Swedish immigration by a few years,” said Doug Bixby, Johnson’s predecessor as lead pastor of the Covenant Church of Attleboro. Shortly after Bixby’s arrival as lead pastor in 2008, both congregations celebrated 100 years of existence within a few years of each other. During the ensuing celebrations, he learned about their collective history together. “Our first church building was sold to Agudas Achim when we moved to south Main Street, which was our second building,” said Bixby. “The ironic thing was that years later, we moved to our third building, and they ended up building their synagogue right across the street.”
Bixby developed a relationship with Congregation Agudas Achim, which is a Hebrew term meaning “association of brothers.” He co-led a Bible study between the two congregations alongside their previous rabbi, Rabbi Elyse Wechterman, who currently leads a nonprofit faith group advocating for Jewish reconstructionism.
When Bixby heard what happened, he was proud that the spirit of cooperation remained between the two congregations. For his part, Johnson remains grateful he was able to observe the bat mitzvah, saying that he was moved at several points throughout.
“It was absolutely beautiful,” said Johnson, “hearing them sing songs in Hebrew, singing songs of peace—and then Rabbi Talya opened up a time for Q&A, and it was the kids who were asking questions like, ‘What’s a bomb threat? Why are we being threatened? Who would want to do this? Are we safe?’”
For all the adults caught in a climate of fear and hostility, their questions seemed to cut through the noise. “I thought to myself, ‘This is as beautifully ecumenical as it gets,’” Johnson said.
