Why should a US community close?

Part I: Only a Community Knows

Tradition

Why should a US community ever downsize, move to smaller premises, merge or even close? Why not continue until the money runs out, the members have all moved on, or the building falls down?

So much is invested by Jews in our communities, in effort, hours, love and money. And our communities mean so much more to us than the sum of their material and remembered parts. So aren’t we obliged to squeeze the last drop of juice out of them, perhaps even when they're at the point of collapse?

Communities are not lemons

Shul communities are perhaps best seen as organic: they are born, they thrive, then their lives finish. Even communities which have been burgeoning powerhouses of Jewish activity and growth, can plateau, fade and eventually close. It is while they flourish, that people grow to love them as a sacred mixture of time, space and familiar faces. At that point they are far more than paper-bound institutions, or caves of collective memory.

If we accept the ‘organic’ idea of a community, the end of the collective association is the necessary consequence of its beginning. Yet for all the inherent significance of a community, the organisation itself - the letterhead, the name on the door, the building - lacks the sanctity of life.

Communities exist to serve human ends, not for humans to exhaust themselves prolonging the organisation for the sake of nostalgia, habit or duty. When we ‘squeeze the lemon’ of a community beyond its juice-giving capacity, we are squeezing community leaders, volunteers and staff. We may be confusing a building and a routine with the accumulated meaning or quality of community life or community history. And we are probably not asking why we developed and enjoyed the community in the first place.

When we know and agree why a US community exists, we can try and find endings which are less sour than exhaustion of our resources and energy.

Sweet

The United Synagogue vision is of “a community of inspired Jews, with enriched lives, passing our heritage on to future generations.” People are the focus of this collective ambition. The vision does not mention beautiful buildings, or organisations with record-breaking longevity. We should consider whether our own local communities provide us, the members, with something like, or aspiring towards, the US vision.

• If one's US community inspires us and enriches our lives, and serves to pass on our heritage, then all is as it should be.

• Even if a community doesn’t inspire us or enrich our lives, then first response shouldn't be to advocate a major change such as closure. Many factors, not all of them permanent, can influence the quality of community life at a given time. Blips happen. (Pips, too.)

Souring

But if a community exhibits these three characteristics, for a substantial period of time and without reasonable prospect of change, then that community may not be capable any longer of taking its members toward the US vision:

(1)      Members are not inspired by being part of the community;

(2)      Members’ lives are not enriched by being part of the community; and

(3)      The community does not pass our heritage on to future generations.

One might add additional ‘checks’ such as these:

(4)      The Community leadership is small and is driven only by obligation;

(5)      Community activities are few and/or increasingly far apart;

(6)      Participation in community activities is considered a duty, not worthwhile in itself;

(7)      Participation is low (e.g. the minyan struggles; or, a few people attend everything); and

(8)      There is a sense among members of an imminent ‘end’, however this is expressed.

Characteristics (1)-(3) and (4)-(8) are all subjective. Only the members of a community as a collective (not just the leadership or regulars) can decide whether they apply. Subjectivity makes these characteristics weak as consistent measures. But it also gives the characteristics a unique power: when a community's members decide that they do apply, then they have jointly manifested a clarity of thought which might guide the group in consequent discussions.

Conclusion

We should constantly ask ourselves, ‘Why does our community exist?’ This is not an intellectual exercise: our answers should guide our actions.

Positive answers to the question might involve ‘Jewish inspiration’, ‘enriched Jewish lives’ and a confidence that community life is worthwhile for successive generations of members. If our answers instead centre on a building, history, memory, or habit, because these have supplanted previous aspirations, then it might be time to ask 'When should we plan for a major change?'. Major change might aim to put the community in a position where it can once more fulfil its purpose even for a finite period; or we might accept that this is not possible, and allow members, in good time, to advance their Jewish interests in another US community (this might be a collective change, which is perhaps the ideal, or it might be left to households or individuals). In the meantime, we should avoid squeezing our communities - and the people who run them - beyond the point at which community life provides Jewish benefit to the membership. Wherever possible, we should prioritise Jewish aspirations for Jewish people, and should deprioritise organisational continuity.

In the next post on this subject, I hope to show how trends in membership data can be useful in providing, if not a universally-applicable timeframe, then at least an idea of what has happened and in what sequence, in other communities. With the right timing, we can pursue valuable Jewish engagement not just for an individual or household, but for the collective, so that communities that are close to 'maximum squeeze' can maintain togetherness as far as possible in their next phase.

As ever, please feel free to be in touch with any questions, or use the comment section below. This is necessarily a challenging and difficult subject for discussion, but I am confident there is great value in the conversation.