Focusing on What Really Matters
Saturday, 3 November
2012
Rabbi Don Levy
We who are
responsible for leadership in congregational life have a tendency to focus on
programme. If only we create and sustain
the best possible community programme, we will have Jews flocking to our door
and staying once inside. The key to the
strength of our community is to have the most vivacious programme of services
and observances. This, plus all sorts of
educational, cultural and social programmes.
If we can only maximise our offerings in each and every one of these areas,
and make them of professional
quality, we will succeed as a congregation.
We certainly need every resource we can call to bear,
in order to succeed as a community. Forgive
me for indulging in a bit of shreying
gevalt, of complaining about our existential reality. But we do
have concerns. They are concerns that
we should all share and discuss often.
But let me mention just one of the big challenges we face: the greying of our congregation.
Look at the demographics of our
temple. Many of our members have grown
children my age and older. And they, in
turn have children: in some cases young
ones, in some cases teenagers and young adults.
Where are they? They seldom attend, but in most cases they
don’t even join. This is
cause to worry about the future of Judaism.
And the problem is not just here
in Temple Shalom of the Gold Coast. It’s
being felt all around the Jewish world.
The differences between places and congregations are mere differences of
degree. Gen X, Gen Y, and the Millennials
are, sadly, not coming to shul. And
it’s not only an issue in Progressive Judaism.
Our Orthodox neighbours, both here on the Gold Coast and elsewhere, are
feeling it as well. Just visit Gold
Coast Hebrew Congregation any Shabbat, and you’ll see evidence of this.
And it’s not a problem that can
be addressed by programme. In essence,
this was something I already knew on an intellectual level. I’ve known it for a long time. Many of you know it, too. If we’re thoughtful and honest, we must admit
it. No
matter how hard we work to make the best services and programmes possible, we
cannot possibly compete with the incredible array of entertainments available
to the members of our community. Notice
I said, ‘entertainments.’ To many Jews,
both young and old, in their heart of hearts what we do here in temple is a
form of ‘entertainment.’ As such, it has
to compete with every other form of entertainment available to our
members on Friday nights, on Saturday mornings, and any other time we offer a
service, class or other programme. And
those choices are vast.
To those of you who do attend
services and attend regularly, what we do is not an entertainment. It is
an obligation. You have internalised
this even if you don’t realise it.
Whatever else is available to lift your spirits on a Friday night,
Saturday morning or both, you feel that you belong here. I like to think that, since you’re here, we do offer a worthwhile experience in
every way that matters. That our
congregational music is evocative. That
our collective prayers are heartfelt.
That my sermons are challenging and, on the rare occasions when I want
them to be, comforting. :-) But in all
honesty it is not the quality of our service that prevents your being
distracted from coming here. No, you
come because you feel it is an obligation to come. Perhaps you truly believe in a G-d who
desires us to separate the Sabbath from the rest of the week and make it
special. Perhaps you sense that, without
your presence, our critical mass will fade away. Whatever the reason for your sense of obligation, you feel it. It draws you back to Shabbat worship week
after week. It kicks in every Friday
night and/or Saturday morning. At those
times, despite the attractions of the vast array of entertainments available,
you come here.
So obligation makes you attend
week after week. And it also makes you
take ongoing membership in your community a given. For those who are not here today, or who seldom attend services but whose names
appear on the membership list, they feel a part
of that sense of obligation. But
those who neither attend nor join, including many of the children and
grandchildren of you folks, feel no sense of obligation.
Some of us here tonight have a
hard time understanding this, but it is real. We are not going to draw in younger members
by ‘selling’ obligation. Obligation, at
least of the sort that brings you here to services, simply does not come easily
to latter generations. And since there
is an incredible array of entertainments that are more amusing, more exciting,
and more fun than coming to temple, we cannot compete with them and draw folks
in by offering them entertainment, no matter how good a job we can do.
So what can we do to draw people in?
And if we do manage to draw
them in, how do we keep them in?
This was the subject of the
programme at the recent biennial conference of the Union for Progressive
Judaism, which Clara and I attended along with a couple other members of our
community. The superb scholar-in-residence,
Dr Ron Wolfson managed to take that which many of us already knew
intellectually and make us truly apprehend it emotionally. And that is, it is not programme that draws and keeps members in our communities. Particularly younger members, the Gen X’s, Gen Y’s, Millennials and
what-have-you’s. The ones about whom we shrey gevalt because they’re not part of
our community.
The ‘secret’ to building a
strong, vibrant and multi-generational community lies in the juxtaposed
messages of last week’s and this week’s Torah portions.
Last week’s sidra was Lech-lecha. In this Torah portion is the account of
how Abram, son of Terah receives a vision of a single, demanding yet benevolent
G-d. This G-d calls Abram to separate
himself from his patrimony and leave behind the materials comforts and securities
of his life to find and found something new.
This, with the promise that he will thus change the course of human
history. Those who bless Abram and his
spiritual heirs will be blessed. Those
who curse them will be cursed. And all
of humanity will be blessed for Abram’s stepping out in faith and trust. For this reason, G-d changes Abram’s name to
Abraham. Abram means ‘exalted father.’ Abram, recognising his mission in life,
exalts himself with the promise of his potential. Abraham means ‘father of many.’ In entering into a specific covenant with
G-d, Abram makes himself in effect the father of many – as in many people of
many nations. Abraham becomes a blessing
to many who will ultimately embrace the Abrahamic covenant and vision.
In simple terms, the message of Lech-lecha is that we should have the
confidence to follow our dreams. That
the thing which limits us, more than anything else, is the smallness of our
vision. That greatness requires a bit of
audacity. It requires the confidence to
step ‘outside the box.’ Many Jews over
the ages, perhaps without thinking about it, have taken this message to
heart. This is why so many of humanity’s
over-achievers come from the tiny Jewish people, this drop of water in the
ocean of humanity. The Jewish people,
barely registering as a percentage of the earth’s population, has been very
over-represented in all lists of individuals who have made a difference. This spirit of Lech-lecha, which we have absorbed from our sacred narrative,
certainly has something to do with this history.
And this week’s sidra is Vayeira.
It opens with the narrative, which we read this morning, of
Abraham welcoming three strangers into his camp. Sitting inside the open flap of his tent in
the heat of the day, presumably while recuperating after circumcising himself
at the age of 90, Abraham falls all over himself offering sanctuary and hospitality
to the three strangers.
So the lesson we can learn from
the juxtaposition of these two Torah readings, last week’s and this week’s, is
that success depends on our answering our calling. It means we sometimes have to step outside
our comfort zone and do something audacious.
But it also requires that we welcome others into our tent. And that we work hard to make them feel
welcome when they do come in.
Here at Temple Shalom, we
generally do a good job of welcoming others into our tent. The proof of this is in a number of your own
stories. Several of you have told me how
you chose to belong to Temple Shalom as opposed to a certain other Jewish
congregation in town. It was not our
Progressive ideology. It was not our
magnificent edifice. Rather, it was the
welcome you felt instantly when you first entered our doors. And this is not intended a criticism of that
other congregation in town. It simply is
the reality that you felt more welcome here.
It’s not a secret that we should guard carefully in order to enjoy an
advantage over the ‘competition.’ No, if
we accept the truth of this message we should not hold it closely like a state
secret. The fact is that, feeling
welcome here, some of our members whose previous affiliation had been in
Orthodox Judaism, joined this Progressive congregation. We got it right. At the end of the day, it isn’t about programme. It’s about the sense of community you felt
when you entered this tent.
So I’m not here to shrey gevalt about how poorly we do the ‘Welcome Thing.’ Rather, as we celebrate Shabbat and seek to
understand the message of Vayeira, I
want to refocus us on its importance.
I want each one of you here today
to ask yourself: Is Temple Shalom still the Welcoming Congregation that attracted me in
the first place? Do we still,
regularly and consistently, make first-timers feel so welcome that they cannot
help but want to be a part of this community?
And in truth, I think we have to answer:
Sometimes. We do it well, but we can certainly do it
better.
I therefore challenge each of
you today. Do you see anybody in this
room whom you don’t know? Make sure you
know their names, and that they know your names, before leaving this building
today. Pledge to yourself, for the
sake of your congregation, to get to know every new face which enters our
tent. Get to know them, and get to know
what their specific needs are. Make them
feel welcome initially, and do whatever you can as an individual to make sure
they feel welcome and connected over time.
Yes, we want to have a great
programme here. You can be assured that
I and your lay leadership will continue to work to make it so. But we must emotionally accept the truth that
programme is not going to see our congregation go from strength to strength
over time. What will ensure that is the extent to which people feel welcome when
they first enter our door, and the extent to which they feel connected over
time.
We do well in this area. We could
do much better. And that starts with
me. If I’m honest, I don’t always fall
all over myself making sure newcomers feel welcome. I don’t always act in the best tradition of
Abraham our Patriarch in his embrace of the principle of hospitality. Many of us, starting with your rabbi, are not
naturally extroverted. Reaching out can,
and does feel like hard work sometimes.
So let’s pledge to ourselves and to one another. That we will
engage in this hard, yet oh-so-vital work.
That we will make it our number one priority to make everybody who comes
in that door feel that they are welcome and needed here. Then, let’s join together and make sure our
programme is second-to-none.
I truly wish that we could
afford to bring Ron Wolfson here to Temple Shalom so that he could deliver this
message to you in person, in the way that inspired us at the conference in
Sydney. But with that not being in the
realm of possibility, I hope that my own modest efforts to bring his message to
our congregation will suffice to energise you.
And I plan to hammer this message:
from the pulpit, with the Board of Management, and one on one with each
of you. I’m going to hammer this message
home until I’m sure all of you have bought into it. So…you might as well buy into it now and save
me the trouble… :-)
I know I've gone on a little long this morning, but I hope you will agree that I'm making an important point. So allow me to go on just a little longer and add a final tidbit. The Torah reading opens, 'Adoshem appeared to him.' To Abraham. In the very next verse, we read: 'Looking up, he saw three men standing near him.' What's the connection between 'Adoshem' appearing to him, and him seeing three men standing nearby? We could start a theological marathon with this one, but let me tell you what it means to me. Abraham saw the three men, created in the image of G-d, and he embraced them out of his keen desire to serve G-d. If we embrace G-d's creations, we embrace G-d Himself. How empty would it be if we claimed to love and serve G-d, but turned his creatures away? The message is that Abraham served G-d Himself when he rose up to offer hospitality to the three strangers.
I think this is the most important principle,
apart from the core values of Judaism that we already embrace, to strengthen
our congregation and one another.
Programme is good. As we learn to
work together, we should expect to continue to see programmes that are imaginative,
compelling and first-rate. But let’s
focus the lion’s share of our emotional energies toward what really matters. Let’s decide that it is the business of each
one of us, every time we’re here in shul, to make sure that nobody falls
through the cracks. If we can pull this
off, we will have made our congregation stronger and more secure. But we will have accomplished far more
than that. We will have done our share
to ensure the future of Judaism and the survival of the Jews. Shabbat Shalom.
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