When Iowa’s synagogues opened, the whole town showed up

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, Jewish Iowans built the state’s first synagogues not in isolation but with the support of neighbors from across denominations. These moments remind us how deeply pluralism is rooted in Iowa’s history. From Davenport to Sioux City, Des Moines to Ottumwa, synagogue dedications became civic events where neighbors of many faiths gathered, sang, and spoke side by side.

In 1884, when Congregation B’nai Israel laid the cornerstone for its new synagogue in Davenport, non-Jews assisted in the ceremonies, the mayor gave an address, and membership rosters from the city’s three Masonic lodges were sealed inside the stone along with coins and newspapers. The congregation’s president, M. Raphael, told the crowd, “Our Gentile friends in this city have assisted us most liberally … regardless of nationality, creed, or denomination.” The congregation also organized a Purim carnival fundraiser that drew townspeople “outside the Hebrew denomination.”

Seventeen years later, in Sioux City, Rabbi Joseph Leiser dedicated Mount Sinai Temple with the promise that the new synagogue would be “A house of prayer for all peoples.” The cornerstone itself was inscribed, “To elevate the human race.” Two Unitarian ministers, a Congregational pastor, and four rabbis stood together on the pulpit that day. The local press described it as “a demonstration of religious unity rarely seen.”

Similar moments unfolded elsewhere. When Tifereth Israel dedicated its new synagogue in Des Moines in 1907, Gov. Albert B. Cummins and Iowa Supreme Court Justice Charles A. Bishop addressed the crowd. In Ottumwa in 1915, reporters summarized the scene simply: ““Gentile joined with Jew Sunday to observe the dedication.” Decades later in 1953, when the Sons of Jacob synagogue opened in Waterloo, more than 800 people came to see the new building. U.S. Sen. Guy M. Gillette, the mayor, and the president of the local ministerial association all spoke. Sen. Gillette called Judaism “a miracle that shines in the shadows of today’s world.”

These events weren’t exceptions — they were habits of the heartland. Long before “interfaith dialogue” became a mainstream phrase, Iowans practiced it across the state: mayors giving blessings, ministers sharing pulpits, citizens contributing to building funds for a faith not their own.

That spirit isn’t just worth remembering — it shows that another way has long been possible. According to the Anti-Defamation League, antisemitic incidents nationwide reached record levels in 2024. But Iowa’s history offers a different vision. It’s a vision where difference isn’t met with suspicion, but with partnership and participation.

The story of Iowa’s synagogue dedications reminds us that pluralism is an inheritance we can share not because everyone agrees, but because people can decide to show up for neighbors anyway. Pluralism is lived when a community believes it is stronger when all its residents have visible places to pray, celebrate, and contribute. In an era marked by national tensions and when many communities wonder whether they still belong in public life, Iowa’s early congregations offer a simple lesson: civic welcome is not a relic — it’s a choice.

When Rabbi Leiser promised that Mount Sinai would be “a house of prayer for all peoples,” he wasn’t speaking in metaphor. He was looking at the crowd before him — Jews, Christians, immigrants, elected officials — standing shoulder to shoulder. They didn’t share one religion, but they shared one state, one city, and one hope — that their shared striving could elevate the human race.

That was Iowa’s promise in 1901. It’s still within reach.

Austin Albanese is a historian and writer based in Rochester, New York.