Couple’s Anniversary Gift to Shul

By Ronelle Grier, Chabad.org

Once lit, a single candle can be used ignite other lights in an endless number of places. But without that initial spark, that same candle cannot light even the smallest space.

This reality, on display in the work of Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries across the globe, motivated retired Detroit-area manufacturing engineer, inventor and entrepreneur Martin Abel to settle on a candelabrum as the perfect item to commemorate 65 years of marriage to his wife Phyllis.

And because Abel is not one to do things on a small scale, he designed and built a menorah that stands 16 feet tall from the bottom of its hand-cut stone base to the tips of its solar-powered glass-encased “flames,” giving it to The Shul, Jack and Miriam Shenkman Building – a Chabad-Lubavitch run synagogue in West Bloomfield, Mich. – to be on constant display.

The eight-branched menorah, which will be officially dedicated at a community-wide ceremony on the evening of Aug. 10, now stands at the entrance to the driveway leading to synagogue, where its lights can serve as a welcoming beacon for visitors throughout the year.

Creating something new for The Shul was a natural for Abel, a longtime supporter of Lubavitch institutions who has given his time and talent over the years to build many of the accouterments that adorn his local sanctuary. His projects include the Holy Ark, a cabinet holding the synagogue’s Torah scrolls; the mechitza that separates the men’s and women’s sides of the sanctuary during services; the rolling bimah used during the Jewish High Holidays; and the ner tamid, an eternal that hangs over the Ark.

“Some people at his age go golfing,” commented Phyllis Abel. “He’s busy making things for The Shul.”

Like his other projects, the design and construction of the menorah was a labor of love for Abel. He carefully orchestrated and supervised each step of the process, from the initial design to the final inspection. He searched to find exactly the right craftspeople to fulfill his vision and meet his stringent specifications for quality and adherence to Jewish law. He coordinated the efforts of artisans from disciplines that included engineering, architecture, welding, glass blowing, and masonry. The finished product is a blend of modern technology and ancient Jewish tradition.

“He recruited everyone to do the work of G‑d,” said Itty Shemtov, whose husband, Rabbi Kasriel Shemtov, directs The Shul. “He never compromises on quality, Jewish law or perfection.”

Abel took care to ensure that the menorah adhered to the guidelines set forth by Maimonides regarding the seven-branched menorah used in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. He stipulated that the flames of the menorah had to be equal in height, and that no curves should be used in the construction of the candelabrum. To achieve this, each bowl-like flame holder had 18 faces to give the appearance of roundness without using any actual curved surfaces.

The branches of the menorah are at a 45-degree angle and convey a welcoming feeling, like a pair of outstretched arms. The main column is an obelisk with a 2.5-degree taper, the same as the Washington Monument. An intricate, multi-step welding process was used so the menorah would look as if it were cast in one solid piece, like the original gold menorah used during Temple times.

An elaborate finishing process that involved both sandblasting to remove any flaws in the metal and electro-polishing to create a shiny finish was used and repeated until no flaws remained.

“I was trying to do what the [Torah] says: When you bring something to G‑d, it should be without blemish,” said Abel. “But in spite of all the things that went wrong, it came out right. Somebody up there was watching.”

The menorah is an ideal item for The Shul, in both form and in spirit. The building itself is defined by its unique rising candelabrum shape, and the motif is continued inside, where a hand-carved menorah adorns the wooden back of every chair in the sanctuary.

The “flames” of the Menorah were designed by a glass blower from the Greenfield Village Museum in Dearborn, the same artist Abel commissioned when he designed the solar-powered ner tamid. The flames sit in heavy bronze bowls plated with gold and cobalt to withstand severe weather conditions. Each bowl contains 47 LED lights soldered to circuit boards that are housed in aluminum containers.

The intensity of the lights, as well as the on and off times, are regulated by a control panel, which is stored inside the rabbi’s office. The lights are programmed for the next 100 years, with a special schedule for the eight days of Chanukah.

“It’s kind of audacious to program something for 100 years; you’ve got to have chutzpah,” said Abel.

Abel’s one regret is that the hand-blown glass flames had to be surrounded by thick plastic guards to protect against vandalism, although he understands and accepts that this protective measure was necessary.

“The flames standing alone in the night sky would have had such a dramatic effect,” he said.

The cement base of the menorah is covered with stone cut from the same Jerusalem quarry that produced the stone for the second Temple. The stones were cut into various sizes to simulate the stones in the Western Wall and hand-coated by an artist to give a more ancient appearance.

“It’s quite incredible, the amount of detail and care that was taken every step of the way,” said Itty Shemtov, “and every time he’s here, he’s looking around, wondering what can he do, what can he make more beautiful.”