Download What I Did on My Summer Vacation... or Sabbatical

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What I did on my summer vacation or actually on my sabbatical?
Rabbi Michael Strassfeld
The six month sabbatical that I recently took provided a number of opportunities
to explore several interests of mine, including paper cutting and paper engineering, as
well as pursuing the contacting of old synagogues for more signs and ephemera for my
collection. The sabbatical also allowed me to travel. It was an opportunity to refresh, to
reflect and to think. During these High Holidays I want to share with you some of those
journeys and explorations.
Since I work every Shabbat, I rarely get to see other synagogue Shabbat
services. Being on sabbatical allowed Joy and me to visit a number of synagogues on
Shabbat. Some were as far away as Paris or LA; some were as close as Bnai Jeshurun and
Hadar. However, I want to begin with a visit to Dorchester, Massachusetts, where I grew
up.
Cong. Agudath Israel was located in the old Jewish neighborhood of Boston and
my father was the rabbi. It was an orthodox synagogue in a completely Jewish
community that was beginning to change even when I was living there. By the late 60's,
the synagogue became a church. Today, it is a Seventh Day Adventist church whose
congregants are from Haiti. We had spent Shabbat in Boston visiting friends and family.
Saturday night, we went to Dorchester to meet with one of the ministers to see whether
they would be willing to part with some of the Jewish remnants of the old ark. Together
with Joy’s brother and sister-in-law, we arrived at the church, surprised to find the place
bustling on a Saturday night. People of all ages were milling about. Lots of teenagers
were dressed in their Sabbath best. The minister was in a meeting so we waited in the
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vestibule to the sanctuary. People kept on welcoming us and asking if they could be of
help. When we asked what was going on in the sanctuary, we were told that there was a
lecture accompanied by slides about healthy eating. That talk, as well as most of the
conversation, was in Creole. While the trip was unsuccessful in its original purpose, we
reflected on the experience. It struck us that if we could go back in time to the 1920's,
when the synagogue had been founded by Russian Jews, how similar it would be to this
church in 2010. It was a gathering place for immigrants who still spoke their original
language. They were concerned both about fitting in to the new country, and teaching
their children the old customs and practices. I am sure there would have been practical
ways the synagogue helped its members then, whether it was with free loan societies,
lectures on hygiene and health, classes in English or, most of all, with informal teaching
and modeling by those who had arrived earlier in this new country. They still would
have been concerned with what was happening in the old country; back then it was
persecutions by the Bolsheviks; now it was the devastation by the earthquake in Haiti
(Their senior minister was in Haiti during our visit).
At the beginning of the story of American Jewry, synagogues served as social
centers, places of familiarity, and aids to acculturation to those making the challenging
trip from the Old world to the New. Later in the 1950's with the move to suburbia,
synagogues became the physical symbol that we had successful made that passage. We
were now Americans, fluent in English, professionally successful, with great pride in our
sons who had really made it as lawyers and doctors. There was a synagogue building
boom in the 1950's and those synagogues often looked remarkably similar to the
neighboring churches as we took our place in the triumvirate of American religious life:
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Protestant-Catholic-Jew. We also wanted our clergy and our services to look like the
church next door. No longer helping the acculturation of immigrants, the synagogues
became focused on children—Hebrew schools, bnai mitzvah, and youth groups were
central to synagogue life. Brotherhood and sisterhood served as social groupings for
those suburban Jews—most of whose friends remained Jewish despite no longer living in
the highly ethnic urban neighborhoods that Jewish immigrants first came to.
Beginning in the late 60’s, this picture of synagogue life began to change.
Perhaps it was the Six Day War, when Israel became more prominent in the psyche of
American Jews. At the same time, Federations surpassed synagogues as the central
address of American Jewry and the efforts to support Israel and Soviet Jewry shifted our
focus abroad. For awhile American Jewry seemed to thrive both here at home and had
powerful effect abroad. Yet toward the end of the 20th century things changed once
again. With the "freeing" of Soviet Jewry and with Israel no longer a country dependant
on the generosity of American Jews, the old federation model seemed to lose force. As
both external and internal conflicts continued, the sense of connection to Israel seemed
less powerful than it once was. American Jewry began to turn inward just as the statistics
about intermarriage and affiliation raised questions about the future of the American
Jewish community.
And the synagogue? As the focus turned inward, questions were asked about
the effectiveness of the essential aspects of synagogue life. Were Hebrew schools
successful or just adequate? Could services be engaging? Lots of the old key components
like brotherhood/sisterhood or youth groups faded away from many synagogues ---mostly
because of societal changes—more women working, --the importance of afterschool
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activities for college applications trumping being a member of USY. One could argue
that a more subtle aspect of the synagogue was changing as well as people no longer felt
the same need to socialize mostly with Jews as they became ever more a part of their
diverse neighborhoods.
Where are we now? We hear much these days about the potential demise of the
American Jewish community. Many have drifted away. Jewish continuity seems
uncertain. Why? Because we live in this extraordinary society, where the daughter of an
American president can marry a Jew wearing a tallit while standing under the huppa.
Chelsea Clinton’s recent wedding to Marc Medvinsky demonstrated all the possibilities
and the challenges of living in America.
To summarize this story succinctly,
before the modern period, Jews lived in
Judaism, not in Poland or France, but in Judaism. Today we live in America and I would
suggest increasingly we live in a global world. We get computer advice from technicians
in India. We have no idea where the fruit and vegetables we eat come from, and I believe
we will increasingly work with colleagues not in a room across the hall but across the
globe. In this increasingly global world, ethnicity, people hood and even perhaps
nationalism seem to be receding as markers of individual identity. How shall Judaism
respond?
What is clear to me is that the way Judaism has responded will not be successful
moving forward. The old answers and the old markers are mistakes. The solution is not
just to market them better. Yet there are those who would argue the opposite, the old tried
and true ways still do work. They would point to fundamentalists in general and to
Orthodox Judaism in specific as examples of success.
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I do think there are broadly two responses to this global society. Those who
embrace it and those who reject it. Of course, there are those who try to straddle the
divide, but I don't think it is accidental that Conservative Judaism and Modern orthodoxy
both who try to straddle the divide are the two religious movements most in decline in
American Judaism. But whether you agree with that analysis, which is worthy of future
conversation in and of itself, I would posit that you, the people in this room have
embraced modernity rather than rejected it. Why? If at first Jews embraced modernity
because of the economic opportunity it offered, we now embrace it for such values as
freedom, egalitarianism and inclusivity. While an Orthodox rabbi in Teaneck recently
condemned "those who seek to infiltrate the Torah with the three pillars of modern
Western life—feminism, egalitarianism, and humanism” because they …“corrupt the
Torah, cheapen the word of God," in contrast, we embrace those three pillars and much
more, because, in fact, we believe they elevate Torah and the word of God
I think that the liberal Jewish community has been distracted in these last
decades by trying to figure out how to get liberal Jews to practice more of the tradition.
The thinking has gone like this: If only we were more like the Orthodox then we can
solve the question of Jewish continuity. I say distracted because I think we are using the
wrong paradigms---the question we need to be grappling with is how Judaism, which has
lived for 2,000 years as a persecuted minority culture, will figure out how to live in this
open global society. A few years ago, I spoke about how the dualistic rabbinic view of
the world---pure/impure; kosher/treif; men/woman; Jews/non-Jews—is challenged, not
just because we might not want to say that women or non-Jews are less than their pairs
but because we see the world in a more unitive, less boundared manner.
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Today I want to focus not on such broad ideas but rather on what I hope will be
the central institution in the renewal of Judaism in this new world of the 21st century---the
synagogue. But to be blunt, getting from here to there will not be easy. We are at a
moment of great change and challenge. This is not however the first time in Jewish
history Judaism has faced such a challenge. When the Temple was destroyed in 70CE,
biblical Judaism came to an end, replaced by what we now refer to as rabbinic Judaism.
As much as rabbinic Judaism viewed itself as standing on the shoulders of the preceding
biblical Judaism, the fact is that it changed Judaism in significant and far reaching ways.
If a biblical Jew had been transported to a 5th century Babylonian Jewish home, he would
have been unfamiliar with what was going on Jewishly. As he sat down for Shabbat
dinner, the rituals would have looked strange to him. Lighting candles? Saying kiddush?
Separate dishes for meat and dairy? He would be completely lost.
The central institution of biblical Judaism—the Temple—was gone as well and with it
went sacrifices, a ritual of atonement, and priestly leadership. The rabbis adopted the
synagogue as a replacement for the Temple. In so doing, they took aspects of the Temple
into the synagogue so there would be some continuity, some familiarity. For example,
they placed a ner tamid, an eternal light, above the ark to remind us of the menorah that
burned all the time in the Temple. Other things were purposefully transformed. The
elaborate garments the priests wore became the dressings for the Torah scrolls in order to
emphasize that Torah, not the priests, was the authority for rabbinic Judaism. Much was
invented from scratch, including the liturgy, its customs and structure. The rabbis
substituted prayer and liturgy for the sacrificial cult. Prayer services have been central to
Judaism for the last two millennium.
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You can just picture the first synagogue board meetings following the Temple’s
destruction, where discussions were being held about whether to continue the sacrificial
cult. “But how can we eliminate sacrifices? We have always had them. God wants them!”
“How can we continue the practice? We have no Temple. We have no more priests. It’s
over. We have to move on.” We know that there were those who wanted to continue the
sacrificial cult even after the destruction of the second Temple. That would have been a
different model –to have sacrifices in synagogues or on local altars. Rabbinic Judaism
rejected that option.
Since then the synagogue has taken many forms in Jewish history. The form we
experience now is an American invention that is influenced by the forms of the Protestant
church. Yet as I said earlier much has changed. For the last few decades, the Jewish
community has talked about how to improve the synagogue and its functioning. But what
if its forms are outdated beyond redeeming
While we are not at a cataclysmic moment as 70CE when the Temple in
Jerusalem was destroyed and the Jewish people lost their entire way of life, I believe that
we are in fact at a turning point nonetheless. The institutions that have worked so well
for us, acculturating us to America, helping us both carry our traditions from the past and
assimilate into American life—those institutions are on life support. They are wearing
out, in some cases they have simply done what they needed to do and now they have
outlived their usefulness.
In some ways, my sabbatical projects were connected in ways I had not
immediately seen. As I was collecting signs of the Jewish past that told the story of
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Jewish acculturation to America, I was searching the synagogues and minyanim of the
Jewish present, hoping to see signs of what would be carried forward and what needs to
be left behind. Ironically, this is the very process of paper cutting—removing parts of
paper in order to see something else more clearly. All three enterprises coming together.
So what did I find in my journey to other synagogues during the sabbatical? After all, I
chose synagogues that have a reputation for being successful or innovative. Much has
been said about the new minyanim of people in their 20's. Attending a number of those, I
discovered that some were just as dull and boring as any synagogue service, but others
were moving. The best services whatever the age of the attendees have one common
factor---energy. Whether it was a lively reform service accompanied by a band in Paris
packed with 300 people of all ages or a minyan in DC of 20 somethings, there was an
enthusiasm that was conveyed mostly by music. With or without instruments, the singing
was communal and energetic. The music was a mixture of Carlebach and newer
composers. In Paris, some of the music was original composed by the band. But as much
as I enjoyed those services, and while energy is better than not it is not enough of an
answer for me. And apparently it isn’t a good enough one for the majority of Jews, who
choose not to attend them.
Maybe instead of making our synagogue friendlier, less expensive, offer more of
this program, less of that one, more staff or less staff---maybe we need a different model
altogether, maybe synagogues as synagogues don't work in this open society. That is why
this year I have asked the leadership of SAJ to initiate a community conversation about
our synagogue. We want each of you to answer these questions and share those answers
with each other:
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For those of you who belonged to other synagogues, what have been your individual
experiences in synagogues in your past—the one you grew up in---the ones you belonged
to before this one? Most of all --What do you want from a synagogue? Or perhaps, more
basically, what is it that you might need for your spiritual life that a synagogue could
offer you?
We will begin this conversation tomorrow when three members of the community
will explore these questions during services. The conversation will continue on Shabbat
Oct. 23rd when Prof Larry Hoffman will speak during services and then again after
Kiddush, giving us a picture of the contemporary synagogue and helping shape our vision
for our future as a community. Larry is the author of several books on liturgy and
synagogues, co-founder of the Synagogue 3000 project and is professor at Hebrew Union
College here in New York.
The conversation will continue throughout the year with other opportunities to
learn about synagogues and communities and most of all with community discussions.
The discussions will loosely be based on the community conversations we had about the
question of matrilineal descent. When I mentioned this plan to a member of the
congregation, he questioned whether people would participate in adequate numbers. After
all, the issue of who is a Jew touches many peoples’ lives and is a critical question; when
we discussed patrilineal over 100 SAJers participated. Isn't the question of what is a
synagogue rather broad and vague? I suggested that as important as the patrilineal
conversation was, that this question is actually more important. It raises the most
fundamental questions about Judaism and about synagogues and ultimately about this
synagogue. My expectation is that this open conversation will be a prelude to a process
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that will lead to specific recommendations about how we want to actualize our visions
and goals. Why does this matter so much? I believe that the synagogue or its
replacement will remain the central vehicle for people's Jewish lives---not fraternal
organizations, not federations, not klezmer concerts, not minyanim nor even JCC's.
WHY?
We are the Society for the Advancement of Judaism. When Mordecai Kaplan, our
founder looked out over the Jewish landscape in 1922 and saw what was broken in the
Jewish world, he advocated for what he saw was necessary. This included proclaiming a
radical truth about the nature of God and beginning the long journey toward the equality
of women in liberal Judaism. Now, in our time we must look at ourselves and ask these
fundamental questions about our Judaism and about SAJ.
The challenge is to figure out what we do want—it is not adequate to say we
won't do the old stuff that doesn't work anymore--We won't have a sisterhood, we won't run a bazaar, we won't even have a retreat. We
know what not to do.
What do we want, why are you here at this moment, what does not interest you, what
could you in your wildest imagination imagine for SAJ, for Judaism?
Can the SAJ, whether as synagogue or society or community be a place for the
exchange of ideas, for relaxed socializing, for spiritual reflection, for creating a setting to
experience Shabbat a time away from the workaday weekday and /or support for each
other in hard times? Will we come here to learn or to do the ongoing work of tikkun
olam? All of these? How will the institution not only accommodate but encourage
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different members' interests? Can someone only be involved in tikkun olam or only in
study?
How would we educate our children? Is Hebrew school the right model?
Religious school? Is school a basic category mistake? What do we want for our children
and how do we get there? What structure would we need to support this new institution?
Are memberships, dues, boards and committees part of the past or part of the future as
well? What staff would we need?
You and your families are the members of the SAJ. There were reasons that you joined.
What were those reasons? Were they fulfilled in some measure? If not, why not? If your
expectations have changed what are they? What can we do to better meet them? What
must you do to help make them happen?
How would I answer these questions---I am not ready to answer them yet—in part
because I want to answer them not as your rabbi but as a Jew. What would be the
synagogue or community that I would want to be part of? I will give a part of the answer
related to prayer on Yom Kippur.
Hayom harat olam---Today is the birthday of the world-----God's gift to us each New
Year is to reflect on what was and what needs to be. The biggest mistake our
contemporary world makes is thinking that religion is about eternal truths when actually
it is about the eternal questions---what needs to be done to repair this shattered world.
Why am I in this world? What does it all mean?
The biggest mistake the Jewish community makes is in thinking that Judaism is
about preserving the Jewish past when what Judaism is about is ensuring the future,
which is done by engaging the present moment in a unceasing effort to be caring and
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compassionate in the countless interactions of each day. Some in the Jewish community
think it is our responsibility to continue the tradition. The opposite is true. Judaism is
responsible to enrich our lives.
Each day the Voice of God goes forth from Sinai---why each day? Because each
day the message is different, each day there are new challenges. If the message was
always the same, it wouldn't need daily repeating. After all, God’s name in the Bible is
ehyeh asher ehyeh—I will be what I will be—and with that name we are called to help
with the continuing unfolding of this world.
As moderns we all live in the land called uncertainty. If our ancestors (or at
least some of them) believed with a perfect faith---in Maimonides words ani maamin
be'emunah sheleimah: I believe with a perfect faith in the coming of the messiah---many
of us believe be'emunah shevurah---a broken faith---shattered by the challenges of
modernity; broken by the horrors of the 20th century, but we still believe, not that the
messiah will come, not even that we can bring the messiah, but that we are still tasked
with making this a better world. After all, isn't that why we are here in this imperfect
world?
The Torah tells us that here are two sets of the 10 commandments. The second
set is whole and perfect. The first set was shattered into pieces as Moses, coming down
the mountain, faced the reality of the imperfections of the people of Israel. Some Jews
claim to be keepers of the unbroken set. But that second set, those shattered tablets, those
are made for you and me.
Ultimately I am a Jew because those broken tablets and the 3000 year tradition
they represent help me construct meaning in my life, give me glimpses and insights in
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how to live a life that is more whole, provides myths and wisdom that help shape my
responses to the difficult challenges of living. In the existential aloneness of modernity,
the hardest challenge each of us faces is feeling ultimately alone in life. I used to think
that the most important concept in the Torah is that we are all created in God’s image. I
now think it is the verse lo tov heyot ha-adam livado—it is not good for a person to be
alone. Instead we are to seek connections. Those broken tablets remind us that even in
our brokenness, we can be connected---connected to our deepest selves, connected to
those around us, connected to the Jewish tradition and in moments too brief and
infrequent connected to the One underlying all creation that calls upon us to fill our life
and this world with meaning.
Lo tov heyot adam livado---it is not good for a person to be alone.
Together we can figure out how to reconstruct our synagogue not so the SAJ can
survive into the 21st century but rather so that each of us as individuals can live our own
lives in deeper, richer and more meaningful ways blessed by the gifts of connection and
community.
Please join the conversation—we will all be enriched by it.