But Katz’s life could hardly be more different from that prewar eastern European culture, at least in one key respect: He is Poland’s first openly gay rabbi.

Born in Argentina 53 years ago to parents who fled Poland before the Holocaust, Katz is the latest rabbi to play his part in reviving a once vibrant Jewish community that was all but wiped out by Hitler.

He settled into Warsaw’s historic Jewish district in March with Kevin Gleason, a former Hollywood producer on such reality TV shows as “The Bachelor” and “Nanny 911,” with whom he entered into a registered domestic partnership in Los Angeles two years ago.

They live only three streets from the birth home of Katz’s father in a modern and spacious apartment with their dogs, two gentle brown boxers. Katz says he is moved by the links to his past, but keeps his focus on the future.

“I don’t think we will come back to this great Jewish life,” he said, referring to prewar Poland, a country where one person in 10 was Jewish and where synagogues, yeshivas and shtetls defined the landscape. “But I hope we will have a normal Jewish life in Poland.”

Katz is certainly an anomaly in conservative Poland, where to be either Jewish or gay is challenge enough – at least outside the cities. Of a population of 38 million, about 5,000 are registered as Jews, while thousands more have part-Jewish ancestry, and some have returned to their roots since Poland shed its communist dictatorship.

Katz is the second rabbi to serve Beit Warszawa, a Reform community with 250 members that was founded in the capital 10 years ago by Polish and American Jews who felt little affinity with some Orthodox practices, such as separating men and women during Sabbath services. The Reform movement ordains gay rabbis.

Homosexuals have won acceptance at differing levels throughout post-communist Eastern Europe. The Czech Republic and Slovenia recognize same-sex partnerships, as will Hungary from July 1. Poland hasn’t gone that far. It has an active gay rights movement and gay nightclubs in the cities, but the Catholic church and some conservative politicians still publicly describe homosexuality as abnormal and immoral.

Katz, a citizen of Argentina, Israel and Sweden, says so far he has not faced anti-Semitism or homophobia in Poland. But some community members, speaking in private, reveal a degree of discomfort.

One woman at a Sabbath service whispered that she found Katz’s open sexuality too “aggressive.” A longtime male member counseled against writing about the rabbi, lest anti-Semites use it against the community.

A third member, Piotr Lukasz, said he himself supports gay rights, and marched with an Israeli flag during a recent gay rights parade in Warsaw. But he said he had heard others complain that it would weaken an already small and fragile community.

“They say that Poland is not a ready for a gay rabbi because the outside society is very conservative,” said Lukasz, a 23-year-old student of cultural anthropology. “An openly gay rabbi is something very controversial.”

Others, though, seem comfortable, as evidenced by a recent string of dinners where Jews and non-Jews joined Katz and his partner at their home, digging into goulash or chicken-and-potato meals around the dining room table and socializing through the evening.

Katz is the chief cook – it’s because he likes to be in charge, says Gleason, who instead welcomes guests warmly at the door and keeps their wine glasses filled through the evenings.

“I think the rabbi’s home should be open,” Katz said. “The moment that you take a position, your family takes the position too. It’s a role.”

Katz’s life as a rabbi has been an evolution from one world to another. In the 1980s and early 1990s he was Sweden’s chief Orthodox rabbi, married to a woman with whom he had five children now aged 16 to 31. Later he lived and worked in Berlin and Los Angeles. He had a dark beard, but today is clean-shaven.

The only photograph in their living room shows Katz and Gleason on the day they sealed their partnership – which they refer to as a marriage – surrounded by both their families, including Katz’s sons and daughters, who are close to the couple and who showed their acceptance of the union with a gift of a ketubah, a traditional Jewish wedding certificate.

Katz’s journey away from Orthodox Judaism was part of his “coming out process,” he explains, but also was influenced by the realization that some of his children were not attracted to Orthodox worship. He concluded that Reform Judaism was more attractive to the young.

Still, he insists that as modern as he is, he loves tradition.

He keeps a kosher home and has enthusiastically embraced the Jewish tradition of matchmaker, using his dinners to introduce singles – usually heterosexuals but not exclusively.

Asked how many marriages have resulted, he said “a couple,” but Gleason jumped in to correct him: “You’re being modest,” he said.

Gleason, 50, was born into a Catholic family but converted to Judaism for Katz. He left Hollywood and now does administrative and fundraising work for the synagogue. He attends services, sitting in the back and tapping on his watch when he feels the rabbi’s lively sermons are getting to long.

Still, the openness of their relationship can catch people in Warsaw off guard.

“I introduce him as my partner they say, ‘Oh he’s also a rabbi?’” Katz said. “When I say ‘my partner’ they think I mean like in business. So I say ‘no, no, no, we are living together.’”

Eger founded Congregation Kol Ami 17 years ago to serve the diverse community of West Hollywood and has been there ever since.

For the past 15 years, she has been involved with the Board of Rabbis of Southern California, most recently serving as vice president. She will serve a two-year term as president.

Eger’s selection as president is a double milestone as she is the first woman and first openly gay or lesbian rabbi to become president of the Board of Rabbis of Southern California. 

It is a history-making achievement, as some of the denominations do not recognize either women rabbis or gay clergy.

“We would like to serve as a model for social and political cooperation in these divisive political times,” said Eger in a statement. 

“Orthodox rabbis were able to work with us against Proposition 8, because upholding the Constitutional separation of government and religion is more important to us all than specific issues involved with marriage equality. We will continue to forge bonds within and beyond the Jewish community on numerous social-justice issues, because our shared responsibilities must take precedence over individual differences.”

She will be formally installed for a two-year term on May 11.

In recent years, the Board of Rabbis of Southern California has worked on food banks, chaplains for local prisons and environmental issues including a novel plan to use modern solar energy to power the ancient eternal lights that burn in every Jewish house of worship. 

Eger said that one of her first agenda items will be to address the need for affordable housing in Los Angeles. She notes that religious congregations include political leaders and builders and developers, alongside people who need the housing, offering a unique opportunity to bring all of the constituencies together.

“Rabbi Denise Eger has been an agent of change in our congregation, in our community, and indeed on a national level,” said David Levy, executive vice president of the Congregation Kol Ami Board of Trustees. “We are pleased and proud that she has been given this recognition and that she will have a new, larger platform to continue her good works.”

His wife’s cousin, Rabbi Capers C. Funnye Jr., leads a mostly black Jewish congregation on Chicago’s Southwest Side. He is Michelle Obama’s first cousin once removed: Her paternal grandfather is the brother of Funnye’s mother.

While Obama has struggled to win over Jewish voters, vigorously defending his support of Israel in Florida and other states with large Jewish populations, he hasn’t mentioned Funnye on the campaign trail.

Funnye (pronounced fuh-NAY) says he hasn’t been involved in the campaign, except to donate money. But he speaks glowingly about the Obamas.

“I’m very moved and very proud of all they’ve become so far,” the 56-year-old rabbi told The Associated Press.

In childhood, Funnye and Michelle Obama’s families visited each other almost monthly. Funnye’s mother and Michelle Obama’s father, who were closer in age, had a good relationship, Funnye said.

Funnye and Michelle Obama, 44, lost touch in later years, though he attended her wedding in 1992. They reconnected about a decade ago when Funnye started working at a social work organization based near the University of Chicago, where Michelle Obama worked.

Funnye said he met Barack Obama shortly before the future candidate married Michelle.

“He was very caring, a little skinny and very sincere,” Funnye said.

The Obamas have not publicized the connection to Funnye out of respect for the privacy of their large extended family, said Katie McCormick Lelyveld, a spokeswoman for Michelle Obama.

Funnye said he sees the Obamas occasionally at family gatherings. The Obamas have never attended services at the stately tan brick synagogue of the Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Ethiopian Hebrew Congregation in the city’s Marquette Park neighborhood.

Funnye’s relationship to the presidential candidate has been relatively unknown outside the Chicago Jewish community. The Jewish Daily Forward first reported the relationship.

“It was a total surprise to me,” said Ira Forman, the executive director of the National Democratic Jewish Council. “Despite coming under attack unfairly in the Jewish community, Obama didn’t even mention this. I think it’s a piece of the puzzle that validates him.”

Some Jews have disagreed with Obama’s stated willingness to negotiate with countries such as Iran and Syria. Some also have been turned off by praise the Illinois senator received from Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan, whose past comments about Judaism have offended many. Obama has rejected Farrakhan’s support.

Religion has played a major role in Obama’s campaign, sometimes in ways that were out of his control. He has addressed false Internet claims that he’s Muslim. He has defended his Christian faith, though disavowing his former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright and his incendiary claims.

Having a rabbi in the Obama family seems unlikely to affect Jewish voters.

Jews, who are overwhelmingly Democratic, comprise only about 2 percent of voters, according the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. But they vote in large numbers in swing states.

“A rabbi in the Obama family is certainly a wonderful welcomed aspect ,” said Rep. Robert Wexler, D-Fla, one of Obama’s chief surrogates before Jewish audiences. But, he added: “What’s important is Barack Obama staunchly supports the security of the state of Israel. … I think the Jewish community votes on issues.”

In his nearly two decades at Beth Shalom, Funnye has garnered a reputation as a spiritual leader who promotes interfaith dialogues and has worked to unify black and white Jews.

“I believe that all humanity and all faith communities are trying to reach a summit,” he said. “The summit is of brotherhood and sisterhood, a summit of equality.”

Funnye attended the African Methodist Episcopal Church growing up, then explored a number of other religions before converting.

“I thought maybe there were other Christian communities. I went by the Pentecostal churches. I read books on Islam,” he said. “Ultimately, Judaism really piqued my interest. It had an appeal to part of my soul.”

Since Funnye took over Beth Shalom in 1991, the congregation has more than doubled from 150 members to 350. Many members of the congregation came to Judaism later in life.

Funnye, the first black member of the Chicago Board of Rabbis, has reached out to both immigrant and Muslim communities.

“What characterizes him is his ability to build bridges among many different groups,” said Gary Tobin, president of the Institute for Jewish and Community Research, a think tank and activist group. “This includes his work to bridge the gulf that existed between black and white Jews in the U.S.”