Open House

Like many synagogues around America, AKSE has grappled with declining membership as a chronic financial leak for about a generation.  It has become a very expensive consumer purchase when viewed that way.  Creating other ways to view the expenditure have been largely dysingenuous and not very successful.  People have other ways to purchase a Bar Mitzvah if they want to purchase a Bar Mitzvah.  Different schemes have been tried.  No fee High Holiday entry the Rabbi's first year on the false hope that his presence would be an attraction.  It wasn't and the data of the ensuing seven years suggest that it isn't.  Our Hebrew School has given the best education around for the few who want it but you can really have your kids processed through Bar Mitzvah without learning much of enduring value.  Other congregations have replicated that experiment many times.

So the latest brainstorm is to bring them into the building on a Sunday morning, give them a bagel, let them chat with the Rabbi and President and see if they might want to spend 2% of their family's gross income to continue.

Wonder how much planning and analysis went into preparation for this.  There are places that captivate you when you walk in the door.  The welcome center at Temple Square did form me.  So did the reception room for the Washington University Medical School graduation.  When you walk into these rooms you see Mishpacha, big screen TV's of people who have been enjoying their affiliation.  There is no ulterior motive.  WashU has already gotten our tuition and their students moving forward to carry on the University's good name there and elsewhere.  The Mormons celebrate their success amid adverse historical challenges without caring one way or another whether any visitor joins and later tithes.  Both organizations have joy to convey to those who enter.  AKSE's poobahs probably need to take the hint and create something a little more worthy of celebration than what I've encountered, then ask guests to the party.

When Shabbos is No Longer the Centerpiece

As a child, Mr. Zeisel, my Orthodox friend Howie's father took me aside one Rosh Hashana and suggested I return one shabbos to see what his synagogue is really like.  I did.  From then onward, more than half a century later, shabbos has been the centerpiece of my Jewish observance and the experience through which I judge the synagogue experience.  High Holy Days could be absolutely wretched, a performance in processing people through Judaism to subsidize fifty other weeks in which the Jewish pageant really plays out.  People go to the Beach Outlets to make themselves memorable for Rosh Hashana.  But there is a subset of us that have no need to feel memorable but to isolate some time each week to put away the studies and courses of college and medical school, seeing people as friends who share the college journey and not as competitors for the next professional destination.  After graduating, I no longer had the same people at my side all week, leaving shabbos as the time to reacquaint with people I missed during the work week.  Shabbos took on more of separation of time.  I attended shul because I wanted to attend shul.  There were the formalities of the worship, the type of ritual or formality that encourages a mixture of community and respect.  Torah got read, tunes chanted, kiddush made, sometimes lunch eaten, then off to a quiet afternoon, usually alone, sometimes with recreation not available to me at other times.  The shabbos morning destination only failed me once before, I relocated its venue, restoring it to what I had come to expect.

Unfortunately, it has been failing again.  I can assign blame if I want, and until recently that was what I wanted.  But not now.  It really isn't anybody's fault that I show up ever less frequently, rationing my shabbos mornings at my own congregation to twice monthly and now to when I have an invitation to do something useful to somebody else while I am there.  I'm not indifferent, I'm actively disappointed with the experience, would replace it once again if it were as easy as last time.  I have been going to AKSE out of my perception of obligation more than any desire to worship there on shabbos or renew acquaintances with anyone I've not seen in a week.  I sit and stand, stare into space, no desire to interact or challenge myself.  I've almost returned to Hebrew school when I am there.  Rabbi's vision of what he wants to impart to us and my vision of what I might like to receive just don't mesh.  I can protest but the baalebatim seem deaf to any opposition,  perceiving probably correctly that they have pretty much already lost as many members as they are likely to lose.  Yes, the concept of shabbos is the same everywhere, but I guess I am not the same everywhere.  There is salvage at Chabad and Beth Tfiloh but not really replacement of the experience that once made me an AKSE shabbos advocate and more eager participant than I have been in recent years.

Only a relatively small subset of our Board attends with any regularity on shabbos morning.  They pay dues, rather large sums at that, so there must be some attractions to survive when the shabbos experience implodes.  And there is that experience of Temple Square, where as a non-believer, I am formally excluded from entry into their building of worship, yet remain in awe of the parts to which I have access and in admiration of the people who enabled this.  Even within an American synagogue mindset, the baalebatim of fifty years ago probably appreciated that worship may not be their sustainable centerpiece, designing their buildings with sanctuaries that took up only a small amount of floor space, improvising for the few occasions when large crowds came for worship, but expanding the activities of the shul to be more of a club, a House of Assembly.  As worship deteriorates for me at AKSE, there are elements that seem to be going well when they have a champion to make it go well.  Kiddush and other food presentation have become more attractive.  Money seems to be handled in a more responsible way.  The Sisterhood events seem stable.  So maybe there are participatory surrogates to compensate for a deteriorating worship experience.  These can never be the centerpiece but they can you by, at least for a while.

Visiting Temple Square

"Ben (the son of) Zoma said: Who is wise? He who learns from all people, as it is said: 'From all those who taught me I gained understanding' (Psalms 119:99). [Pirke Avot 4:1]

Time away often enables a new perspective.  For me, the summer escape brought me to the enclave of biologic and geologic nature that we call Yellowstone, productive farmland of Northern Utah and Southeastern Idaho where I encountered people who remained personable even while they reasoned like Republicans, and finally to the core of Mormonism.  Temple Square posted the religious tenets right out front, our Decalogue on the left, respect for rightful authority and individual opportunity in the middle and a declaration of faith on the right.  Nothing about being politically correct, nothing about avoiding intoxicants including my beloved coffee or craft brew while respecting my personal desire to enjoy them.  People visit Temple Square from all over the world, from missionaries on temporary assignment to tourists in Salt Lake City for a short while whose destination was really one of the National Parks. 

Temple Square exudes excellence.  There is chochma, wisdom imparted by the founders to be offered to believers and non-believers alike.  There is tzedek, an obligation to bring justice to the world with respect for law and to not trample the freedom of others.  There is kehillah, with Temple Square serving as a gathering place for young and old.  Young missionaries wore name tags with flags of their countries of origin.  There were a lot of different flags but all shared a common dedication to promote Mormonism.  Even if geographically isolated or dispersed, they could count on being part of their religious community.  The combination of these evokes kadosha, or holiness.  Temple Square exists and its participants excel at what they do, be it creating extraordinary edifices, treating all comers to superb music, keeping the grounds and interiors immaculate and welcoming visitors unconditionally because the participants believe they contribute to divinely inspired projects.

These criteria of performance do not come from the Book of Mormon, however.  They derived from the aspirations for Judaism expressed by the editor of Jewish Megatrends.  I'm seeing the desire for chochma, tzedek, kehillah and kadosha in my Jewish world but I'm also not seeing the quest for excellence or consistency in its pursuit they way I experienced it at Mormon headquarters.  While visiting their main chapel, I asked the tour guide who got to sit in the ten seats of honor on their bimah, facing the congregation.  The young missionaries did not really know.  No doubt in their world they were esteemed elders.  Seen through my American Jewish lenses, they were machers.  My congregation does not have respected ambassadors.  We have Rabbis with agendas, some with real accomplishments, more with little more than a certified seminary pedigree.  They have young people valued for their energy and dedication.  In my Jewish world obedience will trump talent every time starting with report card grades from pre-Bar Mitzvah Hebrew school where the docile kids find their way to the honor roll while the challenging ones get reported for their behavior instead of their intellect.  While I am not much of an enthusiast of cathedrals, there is much to be said about worshipping in an atmosphere of physical beauty, something recommended by none other than Maimonides and expressed in Torah where people volunteered to beautify a Mishkan and in Tanach where people were conscripted to create a Temple.  We have slouched to a building where some of the insects on the windowsills should be sent to a museum for carbon dating to see how long they have been lying there.

Yes we have our Federations and our elders who give their time and money.  But we also have a very large constituency that are more convenient or inconvenient to those self-directed elders, never quite inherently valuable unconditionally.  People can sense that and walk away as they have with secular Judaism for some time in the same era that Mormons seems to retain people who continue express enthusiasm for their affiliation.

Our shul recently generated a nice sum from a fundraiser.  It would not be unreasonable to take some of that and send the Rabbi, President, and Building VP to Salt Lake City for a few days to give them a better sense of what excellence and enthusiastic participation can be achieved with the right perspective.