Thomas Pemberton and Joshua Gruen

Thomas Pemberton, the Episcopal priest of St. Timothy's Church, and Rabbi Joshua Gruen of the Synagogue of Evolutionary Judaism are brought together by a bizarre act of desecration: the theft of the eight-foot hollow brass cross from St. Timothy's and its subsequent appearance, lying flat on the tarred roof of the synagogue on West Ninety-eighth Street. Their first contact comes through a voice mail from Joshua, who insists, "It is in your interest that we meet as soon as possible." Pem, already feeling like a detective in his own life, responds to the call, and their meeting on the synagogue roof, with the tarnished cross gleaming in the autumn sun, marks the beginning of a profound and transformative friendship between two men of God from different traditions.

The Meeting and the Mystery

Pem's first impression of Joshua is of a "serious young man, one religioso to another." He finds the rabbi to be a trim, athletic figure in his early thirties, with a firm handshake and no yarmulke, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. The synagogue itself is a converted brownstone parlor, a modest space with an Ark, a platform table for reading the Torah, and rows of bridge chairs. Joshua introduces Pem to his wife, Sarah Blumenthal, also a rabbi, and their two young sons. The initial encounter is marked by a shared sense of violation, as both their houses of worship have been desecrated. Pem feels "quite close to them," seeing their common predicament as part of the "entire Judeo-Christian heritage trashed." The mystery deepens when Joshua, over coffee, proposes they work together as detectives, asking Pem if he reads detective stories. Sarah, smiling, reveals that Joshua reads them "only all the time." This shared, almost guilty pleasure in the genre becomes a foundational bond, framing their theological inquiry as a kind of investigative quest.

The Detective Partnership

Their partnership is immediately tested by the question of motive. Joshua is adamant that "no Jewish person would have stolen your crucifix," ruling out his own community with a certainty that Pem finds puzzling. He suggests the theft and placement might be the work of an "already-in-place, raging anti-Semite," someone who doesn't want a synagogue on their block. This initial hypothesis, however, proves too simple. As they investigate, both men begin to doubt their first assumptions. Pem, reflecting on the situation, muses that the perpetrators "may not have been the mindless creeps I thought they were," and that it "may not have been anti-Semites, or Jewish ultras, who brought it to the roof of the EJ synagogue." The mystery of the cross becomes a shared intellectual puzzle, a detective story they are living, and their collaboration deepens their mutual respect. Pem is struck by Joshua's intelligence and modesty, describing him as a "thin, wiry little guy" with a runner's build and a characteristic frown of self-judgment, a "serious, gentle soul, neat, meticulous in his thinking." He is "transfixed" by both Joshua and Sarah, finding in them a rare example of "people of Godliness whom you want to be anywhere near."

A Shared Theological Quest

Their friendship is not merely professional; it is rooted in a shared spiritual crisis. Pem, who is losing his faith in the traditional Anglican certainties, finds in Joshua a kindred spirit. They both feel "stranded" by a modernity that seems to be running backwards, and they share a deep concern for the "quest for a believable God." Pem understands Joshua's struggle to reconcile faith with the horrors of the century, and he feels a profound connection to the rabbi's serious, precise mind. This intellectual and spiritual kinship is so strong that Pem admits, "Christ, I'm in love with her, I want to be with her. I would convert, if that's what it took." His love for Sarah is inseparable from his admiration for Joshua, and his desire to convert is, in part, a desire to enter the world that Joshua inhabited. Even after Joshua's death, Pem's memory of him is a constant presence, and he mourns him as a friend and a fellow seeker. Sarah later reflects that Pem was "enormously fond of your husband," and that despite their different personalities, they understood each other because neither fit the mold of his own tradition. She sees in Pem a man whose "expectations of the world, or of God, haven't been satisfied," a description that could equally apply to Joshua.

The Legacy and the Quest

The relationship's most profound consequence unfolds after Joshua's death. Pem, driven by a need to honor his friend's memory and to understand the world Joshua came from, embarks on a quest to find the hidden archive of Josef Barbanel, the ghetto historian whose diary Joshua had helped smuggle out of the Kovno Ghetto. Armed with Joshua's notebook, Pem travels to Vilnius, hunting down every name listed within. This self-appointed mission transforms him, slimming him down and giving him a renewed vitality. The narrator sees a "literary template" in Pem's quest, calling it "Christian knighthood," with Sarah as his lady. But there is also "something darker," a "successful competition with a dead man." Pem's quest is not just for the archive; it is a way of connecting with Joshua, of completing his work, and of proving himself worthy of the world Joshua left behind. The recovery of the archive, and the testimony it contains, becomes the culmination of their partnership, a collaboration that transcends death. In his wedding prayer, delivered as his "final act as a Christian and an ex–Christian priest," Pem explicitly acknowledges this debt, speaking of his union with Sarah as one that "could not have occurred except in the wake of death, the death of her father's childhood, the death of her dear, intrepid, brilliant rabbinical partner, Joshua, father of her sons Jacob and David." The friendship between Pem and Joshua, forged in a mystery and deepened by shared faith, ultimately becomes the foundation for a new life, a new faith, and a new family, all built in the shadow of the dead rabbi's enduring presence.