'He was our anchor': Sha'ar Zahav co-founder Daniel Chesir dies at 83
'After our whole lives of being scorned by other synagogues and often by our families, we wanted a Jewish community where we could celebrate our lives and relationships.'
by Dan Pine November 5, 2025
When Daniel Chesir and two friends ran an ad in a San Francisco gay newspaper looking for people to help launch the city's first gay synagogue, they had no idea if anyone would show up.
People did show up - 30 came to that first Shabbat service, held in the basement of Glide Memorial Church in August 1977. It was the beginning of Congregation Sha'ar Zahav, and for the next 48 years, Chesir was a towering figure in his synagogue community, which today has grown to some 350 members.
A co-founder, former board member and congregational president, as well as a national leader in the Reform movement, Chesir died at his San Francisco home on Oct. 31 from complications of Alzheimer's disease. He was 83.
"His legacy is that he built a kehillah k'dosha, as it says on the outside of our building, a sacred community, that ensured that countless other people will be remembered long after they are gone as well," said Sha'ar Zahav Rabbi Mychal Copeland in her eulogy. "Daniel will be remembered as a groundbreaker and a visionary, but also as a kindhearted soul who lived his life authentically and paved the way for so many of us to follow in his footsteps."
"He was our cornerstone, our anchor," remembered Cantor Sharon Bernstein. "These last few days I've been thinking about how much his kindness and generosity imbued Sha'ar Zahav. A lot of laughter, a lot of loving."
Chesir's husband, Stefan Rowniak, called his partner of 47 years "a very gentle person who could be convincing in his gentleness." They met at a gay steam bath, proving, as Rowniak said, that "love can be found anywhere."
Raised in an Orthodox home in Brooklyn, Chesir grew up steeped in traditional Jewish ritual and liturgy. He attended Yeshiva University and later earned a master's in political science at New York University. However, being gay in the Orthodox world of that time proved intolerable, so Chesir moved to San Francisco to be part of the burgeoning gay community.
In the 1970s, LGBTQ Jews still often felt unwelcome at many synagogues. That's why Chesir, along with Derek Durst and the late Bernard Pechter, ran that ad in 1977.
"After our whole lives of being scorned by other synagogues and often by our families, we wanted a Jewish community where we could celebrate our lives and relationships," Chesir wrote in a testimonial on the Sha'ar Zahav website.
After meeting initially in the Glide basement, the members of the fledgling congregation bounced around for 20 years, using space at the JCCSF, the Women's Building and a Buddhist monastery before finally obtaining a home of their own near the Castro District.
"People kept coming to support each other and create a spiritual practice that affirms the sacred in each and every one of us," Chesir wrote. "When [S.F. Supervisor] Harvey Milk was killed [in 1978], hundreds of people packed our synagogue to remember him and remind each other of the strength of our community."
Sha'ar Zahav longtime member Ron Lezell met Chesir in 1977, mere weeks after that first basement service. Lezell remained part of the growth of the synagogue and stood in awe of Chesir's energy, vision and depth of Jewish knowledge.
"Coming from this halachic place, he brought in men and women from a wide range of Jewish connections," he said. "Affiliated, unaffiliated, gay, lesbian, Holocaust survivors. There was a comfort level, a level of liturgical credibility. He was involved in everything related to liturgy."
Chesir's input helped Sha'ar Zahav graduate from a cut-and-paste siddur to publishing its own siddur and Passover haggadah. In addition to serving as an officer of the synagogue, he also sat on the ritual committee for many years. More broadly, he chaired the regional council of the Union for Reform Judaism.
A highlight came in 1997 when Sha'ar Zahav moved into its permanent home across from Mission Dolores. Of that memorable moment, Chesir wrote, "We had over 350 families in our congregation, and they lined the streets to dance and celebrate as we carried our Torah through the heart of San Francisco."
Chesir earned a master's in public health at UC Berkeley and worked in medical administration. In his mid-30s, he decided to go to law school. After he passed the bar, the newly minted lawyer continued to work in health care and was employed at Kaiser Permanente in Oakland for more than two decades.
Chesir and Rowniak led a happy life. The couple loved to travel, making sure to visit a new spot on the globe each year. Chesir was the biological father of two children, Asher and Xena, who were raised by their mother, Ruth Rogow, but who remained close with their two dads. "We always said there are no words to describe our relationship with the children," Rowniak noted. They've been an essential part of both our lives."
Sadly, in Chesir's later years Alzheimer's disease slowly robbed him of much of his memory and cognitive abilities. But not entirely. Bernstein continued to visit him, right up to the end. "He was davening with me from our siddur two days before he died," she said.
"He always represented comfort," remembered Lezell. "Everybody knew him from day one."
Bernstein, who often prayed with Chesir, remembered her friend by recalling the words of the V'ahavta, a central prayer in the Jewish liturgy. "It says 'b'chol l'vavcha, b'chol nafshecha, uv'chol m'odecha' - with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might.' He not only did it himself; he made it possible for thousands of others to do so as well."