Sermon Series on the Synagogue: Sermon Two of Three
The Synagogue Today
Quite a number of years ago, when I was a much newer rabbi and still living in the United Kingdom, I befriended a local pastor. As we were comparing notes on congregational life, he lamented to me: ‘I am jealous of the Jewish community sometimes. When a Christian starts doubting their beliefs, they drop out of church, but a Jew doesn’t need to believe in order to go to synagogue.’
It was an open-hearted perspective on a truism of contemporary Jewish life. Jews don’t need to believe in God in order to belong to a synagogue, to attend services or, – gasp! – to even find services enjoyable and meaningful (because yes, both religious and non-religious people still have spiritual needs). Here we are, gathered tonight, cozy together, welcoming Shabbat with song and good vibes and ample food.
The lack of classical theism among a plurality of liberal American Jews is well-documented: we are the least ‘religious’ group in American society. And we hold two truths in our hearts at the same time: many Jews continue to go to synagogue despite the overarching trends of societal secularization, and at the same time, there are many Jews don’t go to synagogue much at all. The question we have to ask is, how do we look at the people who are here (that’s you!) as well those who are not with us? There is wisdom in our ability to do both.
Last week, I talked about ‘the history of the synagogue’, focusing mainly on Antiquity. We have now embarked on our time machine to the present, where ‘the synagogue’ as an institution is both different from its forebears but in some ways also the same; namely an institution that is in a dynamic relationship with a diverse and open world. Then as well as now, synagogues were houses of gathering, community, learning, spirituality and mutual support. It is tempting to look at the heyday of American religious life in the 1960’s and feel morose about the state we are in today. This impulse of modern, post-Enlightenment Jews to be a little ‘down on ourselves’ is well-documented. The 20th century Jewish thinker, Simon Rawidowicz coined the notion that we tend to see ourselves as ‘the ever-dying people’; on the verge of extinction. With the risk of disagreeing with some of the strategic aims of national legacy institutions, known tongue-in-cheek as ‘the continuity industry’, I would propose a reframe: there is much about ‘the synagogue’ today to be enthusiastic about.
According to the 2020 Pew Report, 20% of Jews visit religious services at least once a month, while 79% goes only a few times or once a year. For the regular shul-goers, ‘spiritually meaningful’ and ‘a place of belonging’ and ‘feel connected to my ancestry’ ranked very high on their motivations (it was not the lox and bagels, although I think the lox and bagels is an excellent recruitment and retention strategy). Interestingly, 22% of regulars go motivated by guilt!
So, here is the good news. Clearly, for those who come, ‘the synagogue’ as an institution is working. In fact, synagogue attendance remains stable while church attendance is in decline. According to a 2019 Gallup poll, about half of American Jews are affiliated with a synagogue, in the midst of the storms of secularization: religious attendance overall dropped a whopping 20 points over the last two decades. Christians have seen their numbers drop from 70% attendance in 1999 to around 50% in 2019. Jews had lower affiliation rates to begin with: around 50%, but these have remained fairly constant.
Of course, as Mark Train attributed to the Victorian British-Jewish Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli: ‘there are lies, damn lies and statistics’ and I am playing hard and fast with complex sociological data. A general point stands: Jews aren’t terribly religious (overall, whatever ‘religious’ means, and that’s a whole different kettle of fish), and while Jewish demographics are shifting, Jews still find meaning, belonging and connection – regularly or sporadically – in their local synagogue.
That’s the good news.
The more challenging news, from the Pew Report, at least, is that when Jews feel they don’t belong in synagogue, it is hard to capture them. Some of the reasons Jews don’t come to synagogue include ‘I’m not religious’ (fair enough), ‘I’m just not interested’, and ‘I express my Jewishness in other ways’, all three categories clocking in at between 66% and 55%. These reasons, however, seem to express some agency, or as the kids say ‘it’s not their vibe.’ More worryingly and noticeable are other reasons why Jews don’t come: ‘I don’t know enough to participate’ (23%) and ‘I feel pressured to do more or give more’ (11%), and most heartbreakingly of all, ‘I don’t feel welcome’ and ‘people treat me like I don’t really belong’, both at 6% and 4%. Granted, those are small percentages (so a lot of people DO feel welcome!) but it is something to pay attention to.
In the third and final sermon, we will look at some of the potential solutions and innovations of synagogue life, but I am going to hold my fire now. The main takeaway is that the modern synagogue in America is a bit of a quantum experience; whether it is a particle or a wave may be in the eye of the beholder. How we perceive the synagogue and how we identify the mission of the synagogue are filtered through the lens of our own experience. Did we ourselves feel welcome when we came to synagogue? What are our own hopes and dreams for our synagogues?
I continue to be a big believer in the American synagogue. Having grown up secular, and as a minority in a foreign country, I had few avenues for community expression outside of my family and my school. To me, the idea – as well as the reality – of the synagogue is a triumph of civic engagement, direct democracy, and in some ways, communitarianism. There are few institutions outside of the family which we can impact and contribute to in ways that feel genuinely significant and meaningful.
I love the fact that rabbis are democratically-appointed spiritual leaders; that our governance structures work with democracy and consensus building. I love the fact that there is a building outside of home that is a second home; a communal home. I love that synagogues can easily integrate into their local communities and be advocates for civic peace and strong relationships. When incidents happen, be they accidental or hostile, our neighbors in the area are quick to respond and offer sympathy and support. Likewise, our synagogue, through initiatives like the Free Lunch Program, our Tikkun Olam committee, rabbinic activism around reproductive justice and LGBTQ rights and the aggregate of civic engagement of our individual members (including elected officials!), is a collective that works to make our south-eastern corner of Iowa a little better, a little kinder and a little more fair. Perhaps more existentially, I see synagogues as buffers and bulwarks against ‘siloing’, reductive thinking, creeping authoritarianism and all-pervasive bigotries. We are the meeting place of generations, the sanctuary for the spirit, a safe space for our Jewish identity and the vessel for collective dreams of Judaism and humanity.
This week’s Torah portion is Mishpatim, which means ‘civic laws’. It follows on straight from the Revelation at Mount Sinai and the giving of the Ten Commandments. In some ways, the detailed law-giving thrust of the portion is the consequence of the lofty vision one portion ago. Mishpatim grapples with the question of: ‘so, we are a society now – now what?’ To me, the synagogue, as the spiritual successor to the Tabernacle, continues to grapple with that question. So, we are a synagogue society – now what? Through the open doors of our synagogues, we bring welcome and kindness, learning and fun, food and prayer, a warm place within and beyond these walls.
We may take it for granted, but isn’t it a marvelous thing?
