The synagogue through the rear view mirror

The recent hiatus from the congregational rabbinate has given me an unexpected and hopefully positive vantage point with which to offer a positive prescription for improving the of the health of the American synagogue. I believe that Jewish congregations can and must do better than most are doing now. In fact, if they do not do better, it is dubious whether they will remain viable for more than another few decades.

I probably would not have written this a few years ago. I would have been far too invested in the daily activities of the congregation to be an objective or fair critic. Now that I am viewing the congregation both “through the rear view mirror,” and also with an eye to the future, there is much greater clarity. For some, worship services and adult education continue to be gratifying, but in most congregations, only a small minority of the members participate regularly. Although various programs that may not have much Jewish content may draw larger numbers, these events only give the appearance of vitality, but do not deepen commitment to Jewish values.

I strongly believe that continuous involvement in social justice is the best prescription for a healthy synagogue. The only communal projects that have any impact at all on the life of the synagogue and its members are those that involve continuous committed effort over the long haul.

Unfortunately, far too few synagogue members ever experience the fulfillment of real hands-on assistance. In the two synagogues I served in the past, I would estimate that no more than 2% of the membership was directly involved for any length of time. I do not underestimate the importance of donations that help sustain these efforts. Nothing much would happen were it not for the generosity of members who may not personally participate, but definitely enable others. Still, the donors would feel so much more connected to the work of the congregation if they were to roll up their sleeves and get personally involved.

Tikkun olam, (lit. “Repairing the world”) is a Hebrew term that is being used so much in the Jewish community that it has become a virtual slogan. Unfortunately, this expression has become a cliché. Making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the homeless does not constitute tikkun olam. It may be a nice object lesson for children but it certainly cannot regarded as significant.

This needs to be said bluntly. Tikkun olam requires much more than tokenism. From the point of view of making the synagogue a more vibrant and significant community, the effect of tokenism is negligible.

A few years ago, a Pew Research report determined that nearly 2/3 of American Jews no longer regard themselves as members of a religion, but rather as part of an ethnic or cultural group. Judaism need not be regarded as a religion, but it certainly must be more than an ethnicity if it is to endure.

First and foremost, I believe that Judaism must be a regarded as a value system, envisioned since antiquity as a covenantal community. This is its essential value that must be preserved and intensified.

I believe that our synagogues can and must do a lot better, for the sake of the very future of American Judaism. Synagogues are failing to fulfill their higher mission and therefore are setting the course for their own obsolescence. Our religious institutions seem to underestimate the power they have through concerted action. Far too many synagogues are under-achievers.

The U.S. Army uses the slogan “Be all that your can be.” That is a slogan every congregation ought to adopt.
There is much that we can learn from Pope Francis. He is calling for the Catholic Church to fulfill its core mission of bringing hope and real help to those at the bottom rung of society, the poor, the homeless, the disenfranchised. Following in the footsteps of the immortal Francis of Assisi, Pope Francis has written: “I prefer a church which is bruised, hurting and dirty, rather than a church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security.”

What the Pope is demanding of his Church is just as applicable to all synagogues. The purpose of being part of a religious institution ought to be much greater than maintain the institution itself.

In Judaism, communal rituals should be regarded as instruments, as a means to an end. Rituals and worship services are reminders of our obligations as human beings and as God’s partners. Every prayer we recite, every tradition we observe, is intended to offer guidance. Open your eyes to the real world out there! And when you have done so, roll up your sleeves, get busy. God knows there is so much that needs to be done to alleviate suffering, to make this a better country and world for those who have so much less than we do. We need to get more serious about Tikkun olam. It is so much more than a slogan. It is a call to action to every synagogue. Otherwise all we are doing is what our Christian brothers and sisters call merely “playing church.”

The prescription for Jewish viability could not be clearer. Synagogues need to demonstrate that they are worthy of being supported. And I will add this, they need to expect, and yes, they need to demand, of their members much more than paying dues. If congregations do not expect more, if they do not set the bar higher, then nothing will happen and synagogues will continue to underachieve and wither.

I greatly admire the standard set by the Mormon Church. Of their members, they demand a high level of participation. They have demonstrated that when more is expected, more will be done. The only way in which today’s young people will become committed Jewish adults is for more to be expected of them. This will only happen if, at the same time, parents and other adults set a much higher standard.

Why are we selling ourselves so short? Why do we ask so little? These are questions that deserve to be addressed. I do know this: if we do not ask for more, we will never get more. I am also certain that unless we have the determination to transform our Houses of Worship into engines for social betterment, committed in word and deed to tikkun olam, then synagogues soon will be mere vestiges of what was once a great religious value system called Judaism. And that would be a tragedy.

I am often asked whether I regret having chosen the rabbinate as my life’s calling. No, I do not. It has been a deeply gratifying experience and still feel the need to be of service. My greatest regret thus far is I have not been able to accomplish more, to inspire the members to take more to heart the higher purpose of its existence, “to be all that it can be.” I fully intend to pursue this goal as I begin the next chapter in my rabbinical career in a new congregation.

I wish all congregations greater successes. More than anything else, I wish for them to be true to Judaism’s calling not only for their own sake but for the sake of making our world just a little better. To paraphrase Pope Francis: “I prefer a synagogue which is bruised, hurting and dirty, rather than a synagogue which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security.”

I have not finished my work as a rabbi. I believe, more than ever, in the enduring value of Judaism and the untapped potential of our people to embrace our sacred mission much more fully. It is my obligation and my privilege to do whatever I can to remind, to cajole, to pester, yes, to be a nudge, for our synagogues to do so much more than endure, but to thrive, to be all that they can be.