Shabbat services are just a few days away, and the sanctuary, in orderly fashion, is ready for congregants to arrive. Chairs are neatly placed, prayer books arranged on shelves and the traditional wine bottle stands within reach of the rabbi’s lectern.
Also, within a stride or two from the lectern: beanbag chairs.
Upstairs from the basement sanctuary, as bath time nears, you hear the sounds of bustling little feet bounding up the stairs. It is quickly evident that this is no ordinary place of worship.
“You might hear some noise, but that’s part of the atmosphere,” says Rabbi Avraham Karnowsky.
This is Aish Kodesh, one of Denver’s newest congregations, in the Winston Downs neighborhood on the East Side. It is in the home of Karnowsky, his wife Sara and their four children. The actual sanctuary is in their basement. While there is a division between the community prayer space and the areas where the Karnowskys live, there are lots of blurred lines, which makes the arrangement so amazing.
“There’s a certain cozy atmosphere here,” says Karnowsky. “People come here and feel comfortable because it’s not in a commercial place. If they want coffee, they’ll go to my kitchen. Part of the great vibe is that our place is in our home.”
Karnowsky adds: “It does get crazy, though.”
More on that in a moment.
The actual congregation was the brainchild of Denver’s Donny Basch. Basch organized Friday night “Happy Minyans” and some special events at the Western Center for Russian Jewry near Crestmoor Park. Donny was friends with Rabbi Akiva Stern, who joined the group that included anywhere between 50-80 participants.
“It was really ballooning over there,” says Stern.
While studying at the Denver Community Kollel since 2016 and living with his family on Denver’s West Side, Karnowsky became part of the “Happy Minyan.” Over time, Basch, Stern and Karnowsky realized they needed a growth plan. In 2020, they hatched one. Karnowsky and his brood would move to the East Side, which they did in January, 2021, and Aish Kodesh was formed — at Karnowsky’s new home, which meant Avraham, wife Sara and four kids shared their new digs with 50 or so others.
“In the beginning I wondered, ‘Is this good for the kids?’” says Sara, 28. “But as time has gone on, you realize, this is our life. The kids don’t expect anything else. This is their life, and everything is second nature.”
Avraham, a native of Gateshead, England, (with no trace of a foreign accent) studied at a yeshiva in Paterson, NJ. After a brief move to Israel, he returned to the US in Lakewood, NJ, where he met Sara, a New Jersey native. They married in 2014 and relocated to Denver two years later.
When the Karnowskys moved into their new home, the basement had no flooring. They made $15,000 worth of improvements to make the place sanctuary-ready. A long canvas depicting the Western Wall stretches the length of the “Karnowsky western wall” of the basement. On the east side of the basement, the Karnowskys found an already-made inlet that perfectly houses the ark.
“It was like a sign from G-d,” says Karnowsky.
At the moment, Friday night services are still at the Western Center for Russian Jewry, to accommodate the larger group that sometimes cannot fit in the Karnowsky’s basement. Still, at any particular time of organized prayer, the Karnowskys have company — lots of company. There are boundaries, of sorts.
“Nobody goes upstairs where the bedrooms are,” says Avraham.
“During the week we try to make this as regular of a house as we can,” says Sara. “Dinner, homework, baths, bedtime.”
Without reservation, Sara adds: “Shabbos used to be my day of rest. Not anymore. It’s restful in a certain sense, but Shabbos is when it’s really happening around here. I couldn’t do it without the Sterns. It’s a joint effort and they are part of the crew.”
Sara smiles when asked about orchestrating four kids when the weekend arrives.
“To them, Shabbos means everyone is in our house. We are upstairs getting dressed and we hear singing coming up from the basement.
“It’s amazing.”
The occasional pitter-patter from upstairs may seem like white noise at times. Sometimes, Stern laughs, “it’s like a continuous roar.”
Actually, the group once experimented with services without their respective kids within shouting range.
“It felt wrong — almost too quiet,” says Stern.
“My greatest joy is when people bring their kids down here,” says Karnowsky. “If a 13-year-old wants to just hang out here, that means he’s found a good place.”
Adds Karnowsky: “There is a certain freedom we have, and it is an amazing feeling. We weren’t hired by a big board of directors giving very precise instruction. We make all of our decisions together, and if we want to do a program, we do it.
“We are unlimited in our options of what we can introduce, within the framework of Jewish law.”
There are, of course, moments when family matters interrupt the rituals downstairs.
Last Sukkot, while 60 or so congregants were dancing downstairs with Torah scrolls, six-year-old Elchonon Karnowsky got in an accident upstairs on a small scooter and needed an emergency dental visit. Rabbi Stern’s wife Chani jumped in to assist.
“During services I had to go find a dentist,” recalls Sara. “There are four of us adults in on this, and it makes it so much more manageable. We wouldn’t be able to do this on our own.”
Whatever the method, life in the Karnowsky household seems to flow easily. Avraham and Sara wouldn’t mind an extra room or two down the road for guests, but that is far from a family complaint. They currently have four bedrooms, one of which is a playroom. Their kids are funny, engaging and all smiles.
One afternoon, while Karnowsky’s son Elchonon is in the middle of late afternoon chill time on the couch, he springs enthusiastically when asked by a visitor if he and his siblings would pose for a photo. Five-year-old Miri, three-year-old Moshe and even one-year-old Esti were energized by the request, too; the clan enjoyed what many youngsters might consider an imposition.
“Cheese!” they all shouted.
Since the fledgling congregation’s establishment, Basch moved to Boca Raton, Fla., though he is still involved at times. Karnowsky and Stern envision that in the not too distant future they will need to move to a stand-alone facility, which obviously is a good sign for any budding congregation.
Both rabbis have “regular” day jobs — Karnowsky as director of development at Beth Jacob High School and Stern as a nursing home administrator. Both wonder what the future will hold as their congregation grows.
“We have a problem during the High Holidays; we simply don’t fit here,” says Karnowsky. “At some point we want to buy a house and totally convert that into a shul.
“When the right thing comes up, we’ll pursue it.”
“We saw a need in East Denver,” says Stern. “We think we’re fulfilling that. We’ll see where that leads, but we know we’ll need to find a place sometime down the road.”
When that happens, no doubt they’ll bring the beanbag chairs with them.
Steve Mark may be reached at steve@ijn.com.
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