I am a proud member of K.I. and I talk about it often. About two years ago I was at a small gathering in New Hope, Pa., and I found myself sitting next to the president of a local synagogue who happened to be about the same age as me. After the initial introductions we ended up spending quite a bit of time describing and kvelling about our respective shuls. He told me that his time as an officer reflected a healthy increase in the number of families joining his congregation.
Of course, I wanted very much to hear about how they were able to be make this happen. My first question: Where were all these new members coming from? I asked him if most of the new people came from other congregations or from the unaffiliated.
He took no time in responding. He told me that he, his rabbi and his board came to a quick and concrete conclusion early in his administration. The No. 1 reason why Jewish Americans are unaffiliated, he shared with me, is because THEY WANT TO BE. Nothing, they decided, could change that.
So, they stole members from other synagogues. Despite being disappointed because he was not giving me a secret formula to bring K.I. membership numbers back to its 20th century packed house super attendance, I also noted that we don’t have the ability to follow their lead because of the impressive trait of Kansas City congregations to not raid our neighbors.
Why is affiliation or connection important? From my perspective, there are obvious reasons. Many of our day-to-day challenges would be much more manageable with a larger base to draw from. Making a minyan would be easier if we could reach out to a diverse group instead of relying on our committed core. Raising funds, filling our school, cooking for our Kiddush and even leading tefillah would all be less of a struggle if we could bring back just a segment of our community who have chosen to take a more independent path.
At K.I. in particular, we have so many important roles that are filled by people who were not born of Jewish parents but have chosen to become a son or daughter of Israel. Wouldn’t their hard work and commitment be reinforced by seeing those who had grown up in Jewish homes enjoy the benefits of being part of the family?
We know why encouraging people to rejoin the family would be good for us. Why would it be good for them? Many of us know how much benefit we derive from our involvement, but how do I put it into words? For that, I will defer to a member of the K.I. family, Gevura Davis. With her permission, I want to repost something that she shared a few weeks ago.
“When you choose to make friends, join a school, join a synagogue, or any community, you are actually building for yourself another family, a network of love and support. When my mom suffered a terrible brain hemorrhage when I was 6 years old, we weren’t part of any community and we literally had NO ONE to help us. It was terrible. This week, after having a very minor injury, I was so blessed to have an outpouring of acts of loving kindness, help and concern showered upon me and my family. I am so grateful for the tremendous friendships that I am blessed with, and I thank all of you …”
In this one paragraph Rebbetzen Davis, a woman whose friendship I have come to cherish, was able to touch upon a very personal and valuable point. By the very nature of our existence, going back to our origins, those who chose to be alone perished. Those of us who joined a larger community, or pack, were much more likely to prosper.
I find myself asking why so many people I know can’t or won’t join. Too many people tell me that the costs are prohibitive, that being Jewish it is “too expensive.” That is a common, and quite frankly a very disappointing answer. As I look at my $300 per month cell phone bill and my $150 monthly cable/internet bill, I can argue that being a member at K.I. is quite a bargain.
Additionally, in my years here, I have never, ever seen anyone who wanted to be here told that the inability to make a substantive financial commitment is a deal breaker. So, I’m going to put the “financial” reason on the questionable list.
This brings me to the next reason, which is a perceived insult. “I don’t belong to the synagogue because of how they treat me.” This can come in the form of someone looking at them wrong, someone not asking them how or who they are, someone not calling enough or someone calling too much. We all know that we could and should be better at this. I have heard every president of our shul along with both Rabbi Herbert Mandl and Rabbi Jeffrey Shron address this.
There is no easy answer. Every modern-day rabbi and committee chairperson has to walk the tight rope on how to best serve each individual. It’s too bad that we can’t request that each person give us a detailed instruction sheet of do’s and don’ts. This theory is very challenging. It’s too difficult a subject to try and find a compact and neat solution. What I know for sure is that it is not a problem that is limited to synagogues. I have often heard the same complaint from my Protestant and Catholic friends, and my family has experienced it as well, though not at K.I.
Many of our friends know that our family has to deal with the terrible burden of caring for a very sick child. My sister’s son, Zachary, is fighting his third battle with cancer in the last four years. I am conscious of the fact that other families also have undeniably painful battles to wage, but Zachary is ours and it hurts all of us but especially his mom, my sister.
I don’t have an answer as to why the rabbi of my sister’s congregation is not deeply involved in her life right now. I do not know for sure why the congregation that has graduated all three of her children from its Hebrew school does not reach out to the family in a meaningful way. I have no answer as to why the local church in her town shows up at her home with donated monies and food while never ever having met Zack before or asking anything else in return.
What I do know is that my sister has never said a word about the absence of an organized Jewish community support system, but I can tell that she thinks about it. We are lucky that Zack lives in an amazing village full of angels. My sister is not alone but unfortunately, many people are.
There are more reasons why people don’t belong. I have been confronted at times with a remarkable anger sourced in events of decades past. Some just have no need for a religious component in their life and some simply don’t believe.
I have no magic answer. I do have some personal admissions. I feel very lucky when people tell me that they are interested in my son’s experience in Israel. I feel very touched when friends on Shabbat look at me with eyes that convey concern for my nephew without ever saying a word. I love the fact that my daughters come to shul just to make their parents happy when they would much rather be in bed. I am very grateful for our K.I. family. I know that we collectively love our faith and love our community.
I feel so sorry for the person who told me that he does not go to services because his parents never brought him as a child and he is embarrassed because he does not know how to daven. I am so very impressed with people who decide as adults to study for a Bar or Bat Mitzvah because for some reason they did not do it as teenagers. My heart breaks for children who have to mourn their parents alone because of some disconnect that could have been repaired very easily.
It is my hope that this article will add to the many others written before mine that have addressed the way to make sure that our spiritual home is accessible and inviting. There will always be some who will never need a bigger family, but I am certain that there are others who have needs of a spiritual or communal nature and we at K.I. are just the ones to fill those needs.
With this subject, there are very few things I can say with absolute conviction. The exception is that I am positive that here at K.I., Rabbi Shron, President Craig Caplan, the board of directors, the professional staff and, in my experience, the membership all have the best of intentions and are committed to being open and inclusive. The challenge is in getting the message out.
Ari Lubowicz is a member of the board of directors of Kehilath Israel Synagogue. This article originally appeared in the congregation’s Focal Point newsletter.
