• ters or his members. They draw their strength from him and from one another. It's a strength that has enabled this congregation to grow in about 15 years from a handful of member families to over 250 fami- lies. Shir Tikvah, which means "Song of Hope," is building a shul in the woods at Wattles and Northfield Parkway. The shul will be surround- ed by some five acres of trees, nature trails and places where meditation, prayer and spirituality will be possi- ble. For some of its members, those words were not possible west of Woodward. It wasn't a case of wor- in West Bloomfield or ly Southfield, many found that living with addresses in Troy or Rochester was just more suitable. The majority of Shir Tikvah members live in the area. Yet, they find their Jewishness affirmed in a circle of friends outside of what would be considered the mainline Jewish neighborhood. The "neighborhood" by Shir aTikvah is changing. While the majority of its member families have two Jewish spouses, the congregation is accepting of intermarried families as well. Indeed, non-Jewish spouses can serve on the board and help the Jewish members in many ways. While the jury is out on the level of acceptance of homosexual Jews in many other congregations, there are I a number of gays and lesbians who find themselves davening there regu- larly. Where is there? Currently, Shir Tikvah uses the Noithminster Presbyterian Church in Troy for ser- vices. The congregation, though, has held services in churches all over the area, hanging a banner over the cru- cifix in most cases. The symbolism of the growth of Shir Tikvah is possibly best depicted if one gets to know the spiritual leader many know simply as Rabbi Arnie. His grandparents came to Michigan, barely escaping the Holocaust. Their fear of what they left behind was transmitted to their children and grandchildren. Arnie was not to talk about his Jewishness outside of the house. His mom and dad ran their clothing store, largely of farm-type apparel for the commu- nity. They attended church dinners. There was no menorah in the win- dow during Chanukah. It was a secret he'd keep hidden. Over the years, though, his family would go on to join the synagogue in Jackson. Sleutelberg would attend Albion College. He looked for a profession that would include teaching, coun- seling, speaking and public relations. "I had developed a love for Judaism," he said. "I was teaching religious school in Jackson." He would attend the Hebrew Union College with time spent in Israel and in Cincinnati. It was the first time he'd be emersed in a Jewish environment. What he learned there would shape him in many ways. Sometimes, leaders learn how not to lead as well. "I remember the ivory tower cold- ness of the faculty by and large," he would say. "There was a rejection of individuality and diversity. "I was looking for Shir Tikvah," he said. "There's a tremendous amount of pressure to be an assistant rabbi at a large congregation, and I knew it wasn't. for me." What was for Rabbi Sleutelberg would get its start in the parking lot of Bemis Elementary School in Troy. There, Phyllis Wenig and Pam Spitzer talked about the need to form a congregation. Bemis was the location of a United Hebrew Schools afternoon religious school for the area children. An organizational meeting drew 18 families. A month later, some 70 families came. "My husband and I met Arnie * Rabbi Arnie's work with teens has produced leaders in ewish youth organizations. when he was in Traverse City," said - long-time member Marsha Wengrow. "We felt that this was the kind of rabbi our congregation needed. He is very good with children and has a great rapport with people. Oh, and the most important thing, my moth- er loves him." Her mother, Ann Peltz, at 94-1/2 is Shir Tikvah's oldest member. Rabbi Sleutelberg would divide his time equally between Shir Tikvah and the Traverse City Beth El Congregation. It was 10 years ago that he came over to Troy. "We do it differently," was how Rabbi Sleutelberg put it. "What I hear over and over again is how warm and welcomed people feel." What the congregation also hears is a great deal of singing. Indeed, new members are given a cassette tape and Shir Tikvah Shabbat siddur for services. The music is all a cap- pella, so there are no distractions. There are members from all over the metro area, including former mem- bers of temples and synagogues located much closer to their homes. Many shul members said that they didn't consider themselves Conservative or Reform. They just wanted a place, says Rabbi Sleutelberg, where they weren't being judged for the money they had, the clothes they wore or even their Jewish backgrounds. "The key element of the Reform Jewish theology is freedom of choice. We're serving a niche in the Detroit Jewish community that seems not to be served anywhere else. We serve people from great distances, and we've just always had this inclusive nature about us. When you walk in the door, you are accepted if you are intermarried, gay or lesbian." Without saying it specifically, one gets the impression that Rabbi Sleutelberg is perhaps concerned that his shul is being typecast. It is a place of inclusion, he'll tell you. But this is basically a family congregation. The word family is about diversity. Yet the overwhelming majority of family memberships are Jewish parents with children born Jewish. And, the Shir Tikvah religious school is bursting with constant activity. Its high school students have produced leaders among the National Federation of Temple Youth even though the con- gregation is one of Michigan's small- est Reform temples. "For so many years, the Jewish community considered that Jews liv- ing east of Woodward were on the 12/26 1997 73