Synagogues: Past, Present and Future
September 25, 2006
Many people have asked me what I am doing now that Wendy and I live in Israel. Well, in short, I am studying. Right now I am specializing in early rabbinic history of the period of the Mishnah and the Talmud.
It is said that a specialist is someone who knows more and more about less and less until knowing absolutely everything about nothing at all. True, specializing in one particular field of study or focusing on only one thing in life can rob us of much of the world around us. But, I am willing to take that chance as I pursue this interest in Jewish history…looking at where we have been to better understand where we are in order to get a fix on where we are going.
My studies take me to the first through third centuries C.E., and the development of our rabbinic tradition. I am working on a book about the Haggadah and the rabbis who created it (and why), so I need to know as much as I can about the world in which they lived. I’ve been studying how the Jews interacted with those around them (especially the Romans) and how they fit in and, often, fell out with the Graeco-Roman world in which they lived. I have read the words of non-Jews (like the Roman historian Tacitus) who saw Jews and Judaism as a threat to the Roman Empire because they could not—or would not—buy into the religio-political system that undergirded and insured its hegemony. Reading their words and anti-Semitic rhetoric, I was impressed how they sound so contemporary and find their evil expression even today in words spoken against Jews and Israel. The more things change, the more they remain the same…
Presently, I am reading an article on the development of synagogues during the period of the Mishnah and Talmud (now how is that for being a page-turner of a subject). The article (a real test of my Hebrew) surveys archaeological discoveries of ancient synagogues found in Israel and its environs and explores how they were designed and functioned.
Then, as today, the synagogue was more than a place to pray. Fulfilling its traditional trinomial appellation, the synagogue served as a place of prayer (Beit T’fillah), a place of study (Beit Midrash), and place of gathering for social and communal activities (Beit Knesset). The synagogue was characteristically the focal point of the Jewish town (as opposed to the Hellenistic cities and towns amongst which the Jewish towns were situated) and the most elaborate structure, built in the most prominent location. Interestingly, the art and architecture of first through fourth century synagogues reflected styles and motifs common to non-Jewish public buildings of the period—as if to demonstrate how a structure dedicated to the Jewish community was also open to the influences of and interaction with the outside world. Perhaps in keeping with this philosophy, our rabbis of the Talmud teach us that a synagogue must be constructed with windows to allow the outside world to enter and so that the influence of Judaism might also make its way beyond the walls of the synagogue.
It was the multi-faceted character and function of the synagogue that, more than anything else, made it such an important and prominent institution in Jewish communal life. The synagogue did not “specialize,” it served the broadest constituency in the most diverse ways. Yes, people came there to pray, but it was also the place where they learned, gathered socially, discussed and adjudicated public affairs, provided social and communal services and extended hospitality to visitors. The ancient synagogue was a kind of Jewish Community Center long before Mordechai Kaplan, the founder of the Reconstructionist Movement, wrote that synagogues should function as real communal centers with people attending to sit around a swimming pool as well as in the pews. The rabbis understood 2,000 years ago, and Kaplan dilated upon the theme in the 1920’s, that the synagogue is the singular institution in Jewish life that not only serves Jews, but makes Jews.
Funny how the ancient world and our modern world play games with me and sometimes blend together…in the midst of reading about the role of the ancient synagogues, I just came across an article in today’s Jerusalem Post with amazing associations to what I am studying. It was a short piece on page 5 (often the most interesting articles are found buried inside the paper, not on the front page), and ran the headline: “State pledges funds for reform [sic] synagogues.” It began, “On the eve of Rosh Hashanah the Construction and Housing Ministry assured non-Orthodox congregations that they would received prefabricated synagogues like Orthodox communities…”
Now, that’s something! Here in Israel that is news! Those familiar with the state of religious freedom in the Jewish state know that the non-Orthodox streams are at best neglected, at worst discriminated against by the government that is supposed to serve the interests of all Jews, or, at least, all Israeli Jews. This homeland for the totality of the Jewish people makes it very difficult to be a practicing liberal Jew. While Orthodox institutions receive generous government funding (often obscenely generous as part of the political games that are played with the state budget), those of the non-Orthodox streams are left scrounging for whatever funds can be had. Most of the support for our non-Orthodox institutions (schools, synagogues, public service organizations, etc.) comes from outside Israel—do you detect an appeal here?
The synagogues of the Reform Movement (at present there are some 20-25 around the country), like those of the ancient world, serve a variety of functions beyond providing worship services and life-cycle ceremonies. Our congregations provide day-care, youth programming, early-childhood education, host cultural and community events, and operate soup-kitchens, tutorial programs, and other social services to a community embracing many Israelis who do not consider themselves “liberal Jews” or even religious. Obviously the better the facilities the more effectively these functions can be carried out, so the state’s offer to provide buildings (albeit prefabricated structures) is an enormous step forward for the non-Orthodox streams of Judaism. But, of course there is a fly in the ointment—while the promise has been made, it is not likely that the buildings will be constructed any time soon. The article concludes: “…due to a legal dispute unrelated to the issue of non-Orthodox discrimination, the building of the prefabs has been delayed.” Funny, that doesn’t seem to impede the progress of building Orthodox synagogues with government funds in every Jewish community. Oh well, at least this “promise” is a small achievement for we liberal Jews.
During these High Holy Days many Jews will be spending far more time than is their custom within the walls of their synagogues. As you sit and listen to the majesty of the sacred liturgy and reflect upon the meaning of the Days of Awe, I ask that you consider a few things (my non-Jewish friends and readers can translate the following to their own circumstances as I am sure that it is quite applicable): Think about how your synagogue can be more of a community for you and how you can make it more than a place to go for worship. Think about how you can take the synagogue beyond its walls and make it a positive force in your life and in the life of the community.
If archaeologists were to uncover the remains of your synagogue a thousand years from now, what would they be able to learn about it? What could they/would they say about its function in Jewish life and its efficacy in perpetuating a Jewish future? Would your synagogue prove to be an institution for Jews or one that makes Jews?
Looking back to our past; looking forward to our future, I wish you all: “Tizku l-Shanim Rabot—may you merit many years of blessing” as we welcome the New Year 5767.
Shalom from Jerusalem.
It is said that a specialist is someone who knows more and more about less and less until knowing absolutely everything about nothing at all. True, specializing in one particular field of study or focusing on only one thing in life can rob us of much of the world around us. But, I am willing to take that chance as I pursue this interest in Jewish history…looking at where we have been to better understand where we are in order to get a fix on where we are going.
My studies take me to the first through third centuries C.E., and the development of our rabbinic tradition. I am working on a book about the Haggadah and the rabbis who created it (and why), so I need to know as much as I can about the world in which they lived. I’ve been studying how the Jews interacted with those around them (especially the Romans) and how they fit in and, often, fell out with the Graeco-Roman world in which they lived. I have read the words of non-Jews (like the Roman historian Tacitus) who saw Jews and Judaism as a threat to the Roman Empire because they could not—or would not—buy into the religio-political system that undergirded and insured its hegemony. Reading their words and anti-Semitic rhetoric, I was impressed how they sound so contemporary and find their evil expression even today in words spoken against Jews and Israel. The more things change, the more they remain the same…
Presently, I am reading an article on the development of synagogues during the period of the Mishnah and Talmud (now how is that for being a page-turner of a subject). The article (a real test of my Hebrew) surveys archaeological discoveries of ancient synagogues found in Israel and its environs and explores how they were designed and functioned.
Then, as today, the synagogue was more than a place to pray. Fulfilling its traditional trinomial appellation, the synagogue served as a place of prayer (Beit T’fillah), a place of study (Beit Midrash), and place of gathering for social and communal activities (Beit Knesset). The synagogue was characteristically the focal point of the Jewish town (as opposed to the Hellenistic cities and towns amongst which the Jewish towns were situated) and the most elaborate structure, built in the most prominent location. Interestingly, the art and architecture of first through fourth century synagogues reflected styles and motifs common to non-Jewish public buildings of the period—as if to demonstrate how a structure dedicated to the Jewish community was also open to the influences of and interaction with the outside world. Perhaps in keeping with this philosophy, our rabbis of the Talmud teach us that a synagogue must be constructed with windows to allow the outside world to enter and so that the influence of Judaism might also make its way beyond the walls of the synagogue.
It was the multi-faceted character and function of the synagogue that, more than anything else, made it such an important and prominent institution in Jewish communal life. The synagogue did not “specialize,” it served the broadest constituency in the most diverse ways. Yes, people came there to pray, but it was also the place where they learned, gathered socially, discussed and adjudicated public affairs, provided social and communal services and extended hospitality to visitors. The ancient synagogue was a kind of Jewish Community Center long before Mordechai Kaplan, the founder of the Reconstructionist Movement, wrote that synagogues should function as real communal centers with people attending to sit around a swimming pool as well as in the pews. The rabbis understood 2,000 years ago, and Kaplan dilated upon the theme in the 1920’s, that the synagogue is the singular institution in Jewish life that not only serves Jews, but makes Jews.
Funny how the ancient world and our modern world play games with me and sometimes blend together…in the midst of reading about the role of the ancient synagogues, I just came across an article in today’s Jerusalem Post with amazing associations to what I am studying. It was a short piece on page 5 (often the most interesting articles are found buried inside the paper, not on the front page), and ran the headline: “State pledges funds for reform [sic] synagogues.” It began, “On the eve of Rosh Hashanah the Construction and Housing Ministry assured non-Orthodox congregations that they would received prefabricated synagogues like Orthodox communities…”
Now, that’s something! Here in Israel that is news! Those familiar with the state of religious freedom in the Jewish state know that the non-Orthodox streams are at best neglected, at worst discriminated against by the government that is supposed to serve the interests of all Jews, or, at least, all Israeli Jews. This homeland for the totality of the Jewish people makes it very difficult to be a practicing liberal Jew. While Orthodox institutions receive generous government funding (often obscenely generous as part of the political games that are played with the state budget), those of the non-Orthodox streams are left scrounging for whatever funds can be had. Most of the support for our non-Orthodox institutions (schools, synagogues, public service organizations, etc.) comes from outside Israel—do you detect an appeal here?
The synagogues of the Reform Movement (at present there are some 20-25 around the country), like those of the ancient world, serve a variety of functions beyond providing worship services and life-cycle ceremonies. Our congregations provide day-care, youth programming, early-childhood education, host cultural and community events, and operate soup-kitchens, tutorial programs, and other social services to a community embracing many Israelis who do not consider themselves “liberal Jews” or even religious. Obviously the better the facilities the more effectively these functions can be carried out, so the state’s offer to provide buildings (albeit prefabricated structures) is an enormous step forward for the non-Orthodox streams of Judaism. But, of course there is a fly in the ointment—while the promise has been made, it is not likely that the buildings will be constructed any time soon. The article concludes: “…due to a legal dispute unrelated to the issue of non-Orthodox discrimination, the building of the prefabs has been delayed.” Funny, that doesn’t seem to impede the progress of building Orthodox synagogues with government funds in every Jewish community. Oh well, at least this “promise” is a small achievement for we liberal Jews.
During these High Holy Days many Jews will be spending far more time than is their custom within the walls of their synagogues. As you sit and listen to the majesty of the sacred liturgy and reflect upon the meaning of the Days of Awe, I ask that you consider a few things (my non-Jewish friends and readers can translate the following to their own circumstances as I am sure that it is quite applicable): Think about how your synagogue can be more of a community for you and how you can make it more than a place to go for worship. Think about how you can take the synagogue beyond its walls and make it a positive force in your life and in the life of the community.
If archaeologists were to uncover the remains of your synagogue a thousand years from now, what would they be able to learn about it? What could they/would they say about its function in Jewish life and its efficacy in perpetuating a Jewish future? Would your synagogue prove to be an institution for Jews or one that makes Jews?
Looking back to our past; looking forward to our future, I wish you all: “Tizku l-Shanim Rabot—may you merit many years of blessing” as we welcome the New Year 5767.
Shalom from Jerusalem.
posted by RSJD at 11:27 AM
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