Monday, March 10, 2014
Sunday, February 16, 2014
When "Size" Means "Bigger Than Yourself"
Last Sunday and Monday, before Atlanta shut down, (again), from ice and snow, leaders from half of the largest Conservative congregations on the continent came together for a conversation at Ahavath Achim Synagogue. This was the third Large Congregations Conference sponsored by United Synagogue, and was, by all measures, the most productive and forward-thinking.
Here's why: It didn't allow large congregations to focus only on themselves.
The conference program, designed by USCJ staff in partnership with the attendees, allowed time to learn and share with each other about synagogue leadership, governance and operational issues. But presentations pushed the envelope from self-help to helping others.
Here's why: It didn't allow large congregations to focus only on themselves.
The conference program, designed by USCJ staff in partnership with the attendees, allowed time to learn and share with each other about synagogue leadership, governance and operational issues. But presentations pushed the envelope from self-help to helping others.
- Rabbi Steven Wernick began with an in-depth explanation of the implications of the Pew Study on Conservative Judaism.
- Rabbi Noah Farkas described using community organizing as a tool for creating relationships outside the walls of the synagogue.
- Jeff Goodell, vice president of government affairs for Jet Blue, compared a large congregation to an airline.
- An interdenominational panel, featuring Rabbi Neil Sandler, senior rabbi at Ahavath Achim, Rabbi Peter Berg, senior rabbi of Atlanta's Reform congregation, The Temple, and Reverend Pam Driesell, senior pastor at Trinity Presbyterian, discussed the opportunities and gifts of large congregations.
And, in an inspiring closing presentation, Rabbi Michael Siegel, senior rabbi of Anshe Emet in Chicago, brought the program elements together by challenging the leaders of large congregations to understand their responsibilities for building the Jewish community of the future. He described Anshe Emet's ground-breaking steps to collaborate and build community, like once-a-month hosting of the independent minyan, Mishkan Chicago, and outlined four obligations that large congregations have because of their capacities and influence: Experimentation, Cooperation, Coordination and Creation.
See more of the story below.
See more of the story below.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Conservative Judaism's New Trim Tab Leaders
(Cross-posted in eJewish Philanthropy.)
Next
month, about 60 incoming and current synagogue presidents will go on retreat with United Synagogue staff in our Sulam for Presidents program. (Sulam
means “ladder” in Hebrew.) Coming from all over the continent, their
congregations will differ in size and pressing issues, but as individuals, the
presidents will be very similar. They'll be excited, honored to be taking on
this sacred responsibility, and not quite sure how to prioritize the changes
that need to happen in their synagogue communities.
One former Sulam president summed it up this way: "My congregation has given me a conflicting message. They're saying, 'Please change everything, but don't change anything.'"
Where would you begin?
Franklin Covey took on that question in 2009 with the sailing metaphor of a trim tab. (Buckminster Fuller also famously has “Call Me Trimtab” inscribed on his headstone.) For those of us who know nothing more about a ship than that the captain goes down with it, here's all you need to understand for now: A rudder turns the ship. With a very large ship, picture a rudder the height of your house, and try to imagine the energy that needs to be exerted on it in order to change direction. A trim tab is a tiny rudder attached to the big main one. Maneuvering the trim tab will turn the large rudder, and the whole ship, with more ease and less resistance than trying to turn it directly.
Covey encouraged each of us to become organizational trim tabs, making small but strategic changes in the areas in which we are most able. “Your small actions, your work in your circle of influence can create, over time, a big impact on your organization.” If aligned with an overall vision, the changes from a few trim tab leaders can affect the whole system.
But here's the challenge in synagogues: Presidents aren't likely to be trim tab leaders. Even with the best intentions and carefully crafted short term goals, once they take their place, synagogue presidents are barraged with the three B's of operations: Buildings, Budgets, and Business-As-Usual. For that reason, we teach presidents how to set the structure and process that would allow small, strategic changes to be made by others, and to keep the ship going in the right direction.
Then the question becomes, where do presidents find the people who will be their trim tab leaders? It’s fair to say that a new generation of leaders is not eagerly lining up for their turn at the helm of our shuls. For the last three years we at United Synagogue have been working on this challenge with a group of 50 synagogues looking for a way to bring potential leaders forward. The results are more than encouraging. In fact, I believe we are watching a new generation of trim tab leaders emerge from the nearly 1,000 participants we expect to go through the program by the end of the year.
One former Sulam president summed it up this way: "My congregation has given me a conflicting message. They're saying, 'Please change everything, but don't change anything.'"
Where would you begin?
Franklin Covey took on that question in 2009 with the sailing metaphor of a trim tab. (Buckminster Fuller also famously has “Call Me Trimtab” inscribed on his headstone.) For those of us who know nothing more about a ship than that the captain goes down with it, here's all you need to understand for now: A rudder turns the ship. With a very large ship, picture a rudder the height of your house, and try to imagine the energy that needs to be exerted on it in order to change direction. A trim tab is a tiny rudder attached to the big main one. Maneuvering the trim tab will turn the large rudder, and the whole ship, with more ease and less resistance than trying to turn it directly.
Covey encouraged each of us to become organizational trim tabs, making small but strategic changes in the areas in which we are most able. “Your small actions, your work in your circle of influence can create, over time, a big impact on your organization.” If aligned with an overall vision, the changes from a few trim tab leaders can affect the whole system.
But here's the challenge in synagogues: Presidents aren't likely to be trim tab leaders. Even with the best intentions and carefully crafted short term goals, once they take their place, synagogue presidents are barraged with the three B's of operations: Buildings, Budgets, and Business-As-Usual. For that reason, we teach presidents how to set the structure and process that would allow small, strategic changes to be made by others, and to keep the ship going in the right direction.
Then the question becomes, where do presidents find the people who will be their trim tab leaders? It’s fair to say that a new generation of leaders is not eagerly lining up for their turn at the helm of our shuls. For the last three years we at United Synagogue have been working on this challenge with a group of 50 synagogues looking for a way to bring potential leaders forward. The results are more than encouraging. In fact, I believe we are watching a new generation of trim tab leaders emerge from the nearly 1,000 participants we expect to go through the program by the end of the year.
The
approach we’re using to engage this new cohort is called Sulam for Emerging
Leaders. The essential element of the program is that synagogue leaders
actively identify and recruit people they think have leadership potential, not
once these folks are on the leadership ladder but before they’ve even stepped
on the first rung.
To
participate in SEL, synagogues must have a rabbi or cantor and a lay leader who
commit to leading the program for a year, as well as a cohort of about a dozen
potential leaders who agree to participate. (The target age range for
participants is 35-45.) United Synagogue
then trains the clergy and lay leader teams to use our six-session curriculum
with their groups. SEL takes place in their home communities, and focuses on
building relationships through Jewish learning, personal reflection, and shared
experiences. Hosting Shabbat dinner, for
instance, is a simple and powerful requirement of the program. The SEL
curriculum is designed to help participants face head-on the forces that
compete for time in their lives, especially "sacred time." Then the
lens progressively moves from the personal to the communal.
Drs. Steven Cohen and Ezra Kopelowicz are independent evaluators who have studied Sulam for Emerging Leaders and its impact from its inception. The results have been remarkable. The first report in 2012 showed that the program reached the target age group and positively affected the participants’ feelings of connection with their clergy and one another. The second year evaluation, just completed, tracked the engagement of the participants immediately after the program. Here is what surprised even those of us with high hopes for the concept: 80% of participants increased their engagement with the synagogue, but 52% stepped right into leadership roles.
What kind of leaders will these emerging leaders be? How can we know they'll ask the right questions and focus on more than just the three B's of synagogue business as usual?
We're getting clues that they will. This year, the training teams in SEL synagogues are asking their groups a simple, yet critical, question at the end of every session, and sharing the answers with us. Participants are being asked, "What questions emerge from our discussion today that you'd like to know more about?" Here are the types of things this year's emerging leaders are curious about, after only one or two sessions:
Drs. Steven Cohen and Ezra Kopelowicz are independent evaluators who have studied Sulam for Emerging Leaders and its impact from its inception. The results have been remarkable. The first report in 2012 showed that the program reached the target age group and positively affected the participants’ feelings of connection with their clergy and one another. The second year evaluation, just completed, tracked the engagement of the participants immediately after the program. Here is what surprised even those of us with high hopes for the concept: 80% of participants increased their engagement with the synagogue, but 52% stepped right into leadership roles.
What kind of leaders will these emerging leaders be? How can we know they'll ask the right questions and focus on more than just the three B's of synagogue business as usual?
We're getting clues that they will. This year, the training teams in SEL synagogues are asking their groups a simple, yet critical, question at the end of every session, and sharing the answers with us. Participants are being asked, "What questions emerge from our discussion today that you'd like to know more about?" Here are the types of things this year's emerging leaders are curious about, after only one or two sessions:
- How can we be most inclusive?
- How do we fulfill the needs of the community when needs are so disparate?
- What are the ramifications of our decisions?
- What compromises do we make?
- Where does Judaism fit in?
- How can we set a good example?
- What if setting a good example is not enough?
Our
Sulam team's goal of continuous improvement of the program led us to add a
seventh session this year to the SEL curriculum. It will give each group that
chooses to continue to learn together a chance to explore answers to their
questions and understand more about the dynamics of their home communities. How
each group approaches this learning will shape the shared values and vision
that will prepare them for every rung of their Sulam leadership ladder.
Here’s
the question I’ll be asking during the next five years: As the number of emerging leaders in
Conservative kehillot moves into the thousands, how will they turn not only the
ship of Conservative Judaism, but the Jewish Community as a whole?
Monday, February 3, 2014
Interfaith Marriage G-3
This is going to be a very personal post.
Our son just gave us the wonderful news that he and his beautiful girlfriend are getting married. (Date TBD.) We are almost as thrilled as the day of his birth, (and I am much less tired). I couldn't have picked a more perfect soul mate for my son than his beloved. And, believe me, before she came into his life, I tried. And tried.
In the ten minutes it took for me to put a dozen proverbial wedding carriages before the horse, I imagined going with my future daughter-in-law to pick out her dress, handing over my invitation list for our side of the family with 200 names, (just like my mother-in-law did for my wedding) and being summarily denied, (just like my mother-in-law was not). Then as my mind wandered to my husband and I walking our son down the aisle, I was startled by a realization: I don't know what that aisle will look like. My son is marrying a woman who is not Jewish.
Please don't jump to any conclusions about my saying that, and stay with me. I was not Jewish when my husband and I met. I went through conversion before we got married, and went later with my children to the mikvah when we joined a Conservative synagogue. (This is a long story that I won't detail in this blog post, except to say that I will always be grateful to Rabbi Neil Cooper for his guidance and support of our family's Jewish identity.)
My husband grew up in a Conservative home, and AFTER we announced to our parents that we were getting married, he realized that it was important to him to have Jewish children. However, in 1982, all he knew was that children were only considered Jewish if their mothers were Jewish. The Reform movement rabbis would announce their acceptance of patrilineal descent one year later, in 1983. And my husband had no idea that Reconstructionist rabbis had accepted it in 1968. So he asked me if I would be willing to convert to Judaism. My personal affiliation at that time was a Buddhist/Humanist combo, having moved away from the Christianity of my family of origin years before. I knew nothing about Judaism and I loved this guy. So I said, "Sure, why not?"
Our wedding was beautiful and inclusive. We got married on Halloween, with a woman rabbi officiating, and it made both our non-Jewish and Jewish family members equally uncomfortable and confused.
Our decisions about how to raise our children came easily because we continued to agree on one basic value: Our kids would be Jewish. We could think of no other way to approach this than the way we chose, which was to begin with a two-parent Jewish household. My husband and I had no idea what it meant in practice. We had to learn, build and create our Jewish home with intention (and negotiation) every day. Years later, I would find out that we weren't much different than parents who were both born Jewish.
My rabbi asked me about 20 years ago if I would be hurt if any of my sons married a non-Jewish woman. I recall saying, "Of course, I would. I didn't go through all of this, and work so hard at creating a Jewish home, for them to put it all aside."
I think about who I was when I said that. I was in the middle of my own identity formation. I was learning about Judaism while at the same time teaching not only my children but my husband, whose identity was formed less by Jewish practice and more by immersion in Jewish ethnicity.
A lot has changed in 32 years.
In the world of 1982, the value neutral language of Spouse Jewish and Spouse Not-Jewish used in the recent Pew Study didn't exist, but the word shiksa did, and wasn't hip or used tongue-in-cheek. "Non-Jewish parents raising Jewish children," were not talked about, and they were certainly not an ordinary sight in congregations. Today, non-Jews are so active in our shuls that one of the most lively discussions last month on United Synagogue's presidents' list serve was about recognition of non-Jews as members of our kehillot, and questioning to what extent by-laws should reflect the roles of non-Jews in the governance of our synagogues.
In our family, our children and their cousins call themselves G-3, (Generation 3), counting the generations from their grandparents, to my husband and his siblings, to themselves. Their collective Jewish identification, as I have written before, falls on the continuum from ultra-Orthodox to "none." In 1982, we never imagined this diverse Jewish world and the variety of ways our family would experience Judaism.
I am not going to ask my son (yet) about his thoughts about raising Jewish children. He needs to do some other things that are also on the list for bringing naches to Jewish mothers and fathers - like getting a Ph.D. in neurobiology in June.
The road to raising children with Jewish identity is different from the one onto which his father and I stepped 32 years ago. It will be his and his wife's decision about their shared values and the path they take. I will love my grandchildren if we are blessed with them....period. My husband and I will do what we have always done - create a proud Jewish home of learning, experience, memories and identity for a new generation, wherever their starting point may be.
Here's all I know right now: My wearing a purple dress and red shoes to the wedding is non-negotiable. I can whittle down my invitation list to 100. And I want to be called Safta, if and when the time comes.
In the ten minutes it took for me to put a dozen proverbial wedding carriages before the horse, I imagined going with my future daughter-in-law to pick out her dress, handing over my invitation list for our side of the family with 200 names, (just like my mother-in-law did for my wedding) and being summarily denied, (just like my mother-in-law was not). Then as my mind wandered to my husband and I walking our son down the aisle, I was startled by a realization: I don't know what that aisle will look like. My son is marrying a woman who is not Jewish.
Please don't jump to any conclusions about my saying that, and stay with me. I was not Jewish when my husband and I met. I went through conversion before we got married, and went later with my children to the mikvah when we joined a Conservative synagogue. (This is a long story that I won't detail in this blog post, except to say that I will always be grateful to Rabbi Neil Cooper for his guidance and support of our family's Jewish identity.)
My husband grew up in a Conservative home, and AFTER we announced to our parents that we were getting married, he realized that it was important to him to have Jewish children. However, in 1982, all he knew was that children were only considered Jewish if their mothers were Jewish. The Reform movement rabbis would announce their acceptance of patrilineal descent one year later, in 1983. And my husband had no idea that Reconstructionist rabbis had accepted it in 1968. So he asked me if I would be willing to convert to Judaism. My personal affiliation at that time was a Buddhist/Humanist combo, having moved away from the Christianity of my family of origin years before. I knew nothing about Judaism and I loved this guy. So I said, "Sure, why not?"
Our decisions about how to raise our children came easily because we continued to agree on one basic value: Our kids would be Jewish. We could think of no other way to approach this than the way we chose, which was to begin with a two-parent Jewish household. My husband and I had no idea what it meant in practice. We had to learn, build and create our Jewish home with intention (and negotiation) every day. Years later, I would find out that we weren't much different than parents who were both born Jewish.
My rabbi asked me about 20 years ago if I would be hurt if any of my sons married a non-Jewish woman. I recall saying, "Of course, I would. I didn't go through all of this, and work so hard at creating a Jewish home, for them to put it all aside."
I think about who I was when I said that. I was in the middle of my own identity formation. I was learning about Judaism while at the same time teaching not only my children but my husband, whose identity was formed less by Jewish practice and more by immersion in Jewish ethnicity.
A lot has changed in 32 years.
In the world of 1982, the value neutral language of Spouse Jewish and Spouse Not-Jewish used in the recent Pew Study didn't exist, but the word shiksa did, and wasn't hip or used tongue-in-cheek. "Non-Jewish parents raising Jewish children," were not talked about, and they were certainly not an ordinary sight in congregations. Today, non-Jews are so active in our shuls that one of the most lively discussions last month on United Synagogue's presidents' list serve was about recognition of non-Jews as members of our kehillot, and questioning to what extent by-laws should reflect the roles of non-Jews in the governance of our synagogues.
In our family, our children and their cousins call themselves G-3, (Generation 3), counting the generations from their grandparents, to my husband and his siblings, to themselves. Their collective Jewish identification, as I have written before, falls on the continuum from ultra-Orthodox to "none." In 1982, we never imagined this diverse Jewish world and the variety of ways our family would experience Judaism.
I am not going to ask my son (yet) about his thoughts about raising Jewish children. He needs to do some other things that are also on the list for bringing naches to Jewish mothers and fathers - like getting a Ph.D. in neurobiology in June.
The road to raising children with Jewish identity is different from the one onto which his father and I stepped 32 years ago. It will be his and his wife's decision about their shared values and the path they take. I will love my grandchildren if we are blessed with them....period. My husband and I will do what we have always done - create a proud Jewish home of learning, experience, memories and identity for a new generation, wherever their starting point may be.
Here's all I know right now: My wearing a purple dress and red shoes to the wedding is non-negotiable. I can whittle down my invitation list to 100. And I want to be called Safta, if and when the time comes.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
A Home Run for Family Engagement
When my son was five years old, he played tee ball. This is beginners' baseball, where the kids hit the ball off a tee rather than risk facing a kindergarten pitcher's curve balls.
Our son practiced for his debut with his brothers in our back yard. He focused
on keeping his eye on the ball, maintaining the correct angle of the bat,
stepping forward at the precise moment before making contact. Let's just say he's a gifted
artist rather than a natural athlete, and we appreciated his willingness to
give this a try.
On the big day of the first game, he came up to bat, swung and
missed a couple of times. And then, finally - WHAM! The ball soared over
the first baseman's head and into right field! He seemed as surprised as his
father and I that he hit the thing, and when the shock wore off, he ran full
speed to first base. The coach waved him on while the other team scrambled to
pick up the ball. As soon as he got to second base, we all yelled, "Keep
going!" And he did - but instead of turning towards third
base, he continued straight into left field.
Here's what we realized, as his teammates and coaches tried to
stop him before he ran all the way back to our house: He
didn't know where third base was or how to get there from second. We spent a
lot of time on the mechanics of hitting the ball. We forgot to prepare him for what to do after he hit it.
This happens in synagogues, too. Loads of institutional energy and resources
are put into writing strategic plans, but they may sit on the shelf, (next to
two or three previously written ones), because no one is able to implement
them. Much thought and care is often put into assembling a rabbinic search committee,
but the new rabbi struggles in the critical first year because a transition
team is not put into place to help him or her succeed.
Over the next four years, 61 Conservative kehillot (communities) will get a chance to hit a home run with more than 10,000 young families as they offer the gift of Jewish books every month through PJ Library. This is a unique opportunity. Most of the million PJ Library subscriptions so far have been provided through organizational venues like Jewish Federations and Jewish Community Centers, but not synagogues. According to research by the Harold Grinspoon Foundation, about half of the young families will be unaffiliated. The PJ Library program gives our synagogue communities a direct line of communication with young families, but they need to be able to get past first base.
Through our pilot PJ Library program with 33 New York area kehillot, called ReadNY!, we found that in some congregations, publicizing the opportunity and signing up families was as easy as learning how to keep your eye on the ball. But moving beyond that requires more planning and continual work. The “champions” for engaging young families need to be identified, and assigned the responsibility to reach out and sustain relationships in addition to designing programs that are the right match for what the families need.
Over the next four years, 61 Conservative kehillot (communities) will get a chance to hit a home run with more than 10,000 young families as they offer the gift of Jewish books every month through PJ Library. This is a unique opportunity. Most of the million PJ Library subscriptions so far have been provided through organizational venues like Jewish Federations and Jewish Community Centers, but not synagogues. According to research by the Harold Grinspoon Foundation, about half of the young families will be unaffiliated. The PJ Library program gives our synagogue communities a direct line of communication with young families, but they need to be able to get past first base.
Through our pilot PJ Library program with 33 New York area kehillot, called ReadNY!, we found that in some congregations, publicizing the opportunity and signing up families was as easy as learning how to keep your eye on the ball. But moving beyond that requires more planning and continual work. The “champions” for engaging young families need to be identified, and assigned the responsibility to reach out and sustain relationships in addition to designing programs that are the right match for what the families need.
Volunteers and professionals alike are not necessarily naturals at
outreach and engagement, so they need help building the habits of relational
thinking, and looking for moments with relational potential, whether it’s through excellent formal
programming or during informal moments.
For these reasons, we’re setting in place the staff and structure
to create the USCJ-PJ Family Engagement Network. The Network will bring
together the professionals and volunteers whose focus will be engaging young
families in their communities, beginning with those who enter the door through
PJ Library. They'll receive resources from PJ Library, and special consultation, networking and services from United Synagogue's family engagement and early childhood staff. A special interfaith family network, InterAction, will begin meeting in a few weeks. We expect that what both networks learn and share will help all of our kehillot round the bases of family engagement.
Watch for upcoming newsletters and webinars, and the introduction in February of our new PJ Library Coordinator, Amy Schwartz, as she begins to help kehillot across the continent get to first base offering PJ Library books to children in their communities.
For more information about the USCJ-PJ Family Engagement Network, contact our Family Engagement Specialist, Rabbi Cara Weinstein Rosenthal. For advice and consultation about early childhood engagement, contact our Early Childhood Consultant, Maxine Handelman.
For more information about the USCJ-PJ Family Engagement Network, contact our Family Engagement Specialist, Rabbi Cara Weinstein Rosenthal. For advice and consultation about early childhood engagement, contact our Early Childhood Consultant, Maxine Handelman.
Monday, January 20, 2014
The Divine Proportion in Kehilla
Fibonacci numbers are easy to understand, even for those of us who liked tests that allowed subjective, (preferably anecdotal), essay answers.
The concept is simple: Each number in a Fibonacci sequence equals the sum of the two numbers preceding it. Here's a basic Fibonacci sequence:
And there's more. Not just in the architecture of the buildings, I see the 1.6 ratio embedded in synagogue budgets and operations.
The concept is simple: Each number in a Fibonacci sequence equals the sum of the two numbers preceding it. Here's a basic Fibonacci sequence:
0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 .... etc.
Calculate the numbers like this:
0+1=1; 1+1=2; 1+2=3; 2+3=5; 3+5=8; 5+8=13; 8+13=21...
Get it?
And here is the elegant part. The ratio between two adjacent numbers always equals approximately 1.6. The higher you go in the sequence, the closer to 1.6 you get. Called the Golden Ratio, Divine Ratio, or Divine Proportion, it is an important calculation for mathematicians and architects, and an almost mystical number to artists and observers of the natural world. You can find it everywhere, from the Parthenon to picture frames, insect carapaces to sunflowers. Our subjective opinion about what is beautiful, whether it's a Maserati or a human face, usually involves a ratio of 1.6, when we objectively measure their longest and shortest components.
Spatially, the golden ratio can look like this:
Which is why we can see the golden ratio in the Parthenon:
And a seashell:
Dr. Adrian Bejan, from Duke University, recently explained why the golden ratio is so prevalent in what we create and value. It has to do with being the easiest proportions for our brains to translate as we make sense of the visual world. Regardless of its origin, once you're aware of the golden ratio, it's hard to stop seeing it around you.
I see it in our synagogues, beginning with our buildings. The main space inside of our synagogues is usually partitioned into a large sanctuary with an entrance foyer, a chapel, and small offices. A synagogue's building plan might look like this spatial depiction of the golden ratio from above, (without the numbers).
- For every 5 professionals your synagogue needs, your budget probably only allows you to hire 3 people. Although I love to make things up, I'm not stretching the truth on this. United Synagogue's 2013 salary survey, with responses from 139 synagogues, showed that in mid-sized congregations, staff costs represent 50% or less of the total synagogue budget. Typical non-profits try to keep staff costs at 80% of the budget. What's the ratio between those numbers? (Hint: 80/50 = 1.6)
- More from the salary survey: The average cost per member was at least $1,000 more than what membership dues brought in. Yes, you guessed it - the ratio comes out to about 1.6.
- I'll ask the executive directors to help me with the research on this last one about fundraising. My hypothesis is that the number of members who donate to a High Holiday appeal, compared to the total number of members, is a Fibonacci number. So if your congregation has 377 member households, 233 will donate. With 610 member households, 377 will donate. Please feel free to get back to me on this.
A kehilla is a sacred community. It's the "sacred" in sacred community that puts the "divine" in the divine proportion. For example, we know that a congregation may have trouble sustaining a minyan for prayer twice a day, but if there is a death and someone needs to say kaddish, 13 people will show up for every 8 calls that are made.
Although it may not be exactly a ratio of 1.6, here are other ways I recently saw the divine proportion in our kehillot:
- Communities that launch Shabbat dinner initiatives, like Share Shabbat at Temple Beth Hillel/Beth El in Wynnewood, PA, Guess Who's Coming to Shabbas? at Temple Sinai in Dresher, PA, and 613+ Shabbat Dinners at Beth Am, Baltimore, MD, can see an increase in the number of dinners, hosts, relationships and observance of Shabbat over time.
- Jessie’s Community Gardens, a project that began in memory of Jessica Lynn Kostin, with support by the Jewish Federation of West Hartford, has grown since 2010 to nine gardens. Beth El Temple of West Hartford, the site of one of the gardens, was given a United Synagogue Solomon Schechter Centennial Award and described its impact on their community: "The sense of community extends beyond the people directly involved in JCG. The entire congregation reacts with a sense of pride and connection when pictures of the garden are posted on the Beth El website and we announce results of how much was grown and delivered to different food banks. Once or twice a season we use a part of the harvest for the congregational Shabbat luncheon. These luncheons create a true sense of sacred community as people enjoy the literal fruits of our labor..."
- A simple idea – to bring together a few people who love to knit – has grown over eight years to more than 60 people who have given 10,000 hand-knitted items to people in need. The divine proportion from Mitzvah Knitters at Shaar Shalom Synagogue in Thornhill, ON, according to Janice Schachter, synagogue president and knitting guru, is this: “Our elderly participants renew their spirit as they become mentors to those just beginning their new journey, and feel useful once again as they are able to make a difference in so many lives at this later stage of their lives.”
- United Synagogue's Sulam for Emerging Leaders program re-builds the pipeline of new leadership. An independent evaluation in 2013 by Dr. Steven Cohen and Dr. Ezra Kopelowicz, showed that 80% of participants reported positive relationships and increased commitment to the community because of engagement in the program. More than half (52%) stepped immediately into leadership positions - taking on projects, committee work, or a role on the board. (80%/52% ~ 1.6!)
Where do you see the divine proportion in your kehilla?
Sunday, January 12, 2014
The Top Ten Best How-To's to Make Your Synagogue Stand Out
Did I get your attention with the title of this blog post? I meant to.
The most interesting job of my nearly 40-year career was not in the Jewish community. It was as an ad copy writer for a niche magazine in the 1990's, distributed expressly for self-published book authors to get their names in front of radio and tv talk show producers, with the hope of getting some on-air interview time.
Every week, I was sent a box of books by unknown and un-notable authors. It was my choice if I wanted to read them, but, at the least, I was required to interview each author so that I could transform the crux of their interesting, mundane or totally whacko ideas into a pithy advertisement about their books. I loved talking to people who invested extraordinary amounts of time and money so their voices could be heard on topics that ranged from aphrodisiacs to the autobiography of a Wiccan High Priestess, (my hands down favorite interviewee, who had to interrupt our conversation for a meeting with a shaman so they could speak to the dead).
The key to every ad, though, was not the copy itself. It was the headline. My editor's formula, (reflecting guiding principles still used today), was that it had to contain a "top ten (or other number)", a "best of," a "how-to", a warning or a promise.
A punchy headline had to say it quickly and concisely, but it didn't have to make one ad stand out from the other 599 in a 100-page magazine. Rather, our goal was to make each headline catch the eye of the producers who would be attracted to a particular author's content. My ad for the biography of the Wiccan High Priestess didn't need to get the attention of the producers of health and exercise radio shows, but the headlines about the books on diets, insomnia, menopause, exercise, and sex did. (Actually, any book about sex caught every producer's eye.)
With my professional focus for the last 15 years on the Jewish community, I see headlines or tag lines emerging on websites as synagogues begin to understand and implement branding strategies. This is a great idea. I hope this happens more. Thoughtful branding requires research and introspection about a synagogue's vision, aspirations and mission. The best tag lines give an instant message that inspires and invites, but is also a true reflection of the community.
I am not a communications specialist, and wouldn't expect anyone to trust my advice on crafting tag lines. Instead, I am an avid observer of language and process, and I can see similarities and differences in the tag lines I found as I looked at about a hundred synagogue websites recently. Some, but not all, clearly follow the guiding principles of tag lines, generating the language of best-of, how-to or a promise about the future.
So, in the spirit of my former profession as a copy writer, here are my top five, (ten would tedious), things to think about as you create a tag line for your kehilla, (community):
1. Re-think denominational labeling. Although United Synagogue really, really appreciates the shout out, your tag line, "A member of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism," will probably need updating. Studies abound telling us that the generations we wish to attract into our communities are just not interested in denominational labels or organizational affiliation. The same goes for "egalitarian" and "non-egalitarian" language. Some tag lines now describe the experience of Conservative Judaism, rather than the practice, like this:
5. The number one, best place to start is...anywhere. The process of creating a tag line involves reflection, taking the pulse of your members and the greater community, activating professional or volunteer energy, reviewing your current branding strategies, (especially if "branding" doesn't exist for you yet), maybe even changing your website or creating new printed materials. In the best of processes, starting with any of those objectives will incorporate all of the others. Even if you don't create a tag line, the process of reflection and review is healthy. Start somewhere.
The most interesting job of my nearly 40-year career was not in the Jewish community. It was as an ad copy writer for a niche magazine in the 1990's, distributed expressly for self-published book authors to get their names in front of radio and tv talk show producers, with the hope of getting some on-air interview time.
Every week, I was sent a box of books by unknown and un-notable authors. It was my choice if I wanted to read them, but, at the least, I was required to interview each author so that I could transform the crux of their interesting, mundane or totally whacko ideas into a pithy advertisement about their books. I loved talking to people who invested extraordinary amounts of time and money so their voices could be heard on topics that ranged from aphrodisiacs to the autobiography of a Wiccan High Priestess, (my hands down favorite interviewee, who had to interrupt our conversation for a meeting with a shaman so they could speak to the dead).
The key to every ad, though, was not the copy itself. It was the headline. My editor's formula, (reflecting guiding principles still used today), was that it had to contain a "top ten (or other number)", a "best of," a "how-to", a warning or a promise.
A punchy headline had to say it quickly and concisely, but it didn't have to make one ad stand out from the other 599 in a 100-page magazine. Rather, our goal was to make each headline catch the eye of the producers who would be attracted to a particular author's content. My ad for the biography of the Wiccan High Priestess didn't need to get the attention of the producers of health and exercise radio shows, but the headlines about the books on diets, insomnia, menopause, exercise, and sex did. (Actually, any book about sex caught every producer's eye.)
With my professional focus for the last 15 years on the Jewish community, I see headlines or tag lines emerging on websites as synagogues begin to understand and implement branding strategies. This is a great idea. I hope this happens more. Thoughtful branding requires research and introspection about a synagogue's vision, aspirations and mission. The best tag lines give an instant message that inspires and invites, but is also a true reflection of the community.
I am not a communications specialist, and wouldn't expect anyone to trust my advice on crafting tag lines. Instead, I am an avid observer of language and process, and I can see similarities and differences in the tag lines I found as I looked at about a hundred synagogue websites recently. Some, but not all, clearly follow the guiding principles of tag lines, generating the language of best-of, how-to or a promise about the future.
So, in the spirit of my former profession as a copy writer, here are my top five, (ten would tedious), things to think about as you create a tag line for your kehilla, (community):
1. Re-think denominational labeling. Although United Synagogue really, really appreciates the shout out, your tag line, "A member of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism," will probably need updating. Studies abound telling us that the generations we wish to attract into our communities are just not interested in denominational labels or organizational affiliation. The same goes for "egalitarian" and "non-egalitarian" language. Some tag lines now describe the experience of Conservative Judaism, rather than the practice, like this:
- Moving forward with tradition, Bet Shira Congregation, Miami, FL
- Where Tradition Meets Change, Temple Israel of Great Neck, Great Neck, NY
- A warm approach to tradition where everyone counts, Hewlett East Rockaway Jewish Center, East Rockaway, NY
2. Know Yourself, (Level One). Some tag lines seem to look from the outside in. They're a communal Google map with a zoom-in capability to give a picture of the landscape. These tag lines describe where a congregation is planted or what you'll find once you enter into the community:
3. Know yourself, (Level Two). If you know your members' aspirations and needs, your tag line can promise to help. If your tag line matches what you know about who they would like to become, it may inspire not only your own members, but others seeking the same accompaniment on that journey. Here are examples:
4. Know yourself, (Level Three). Have a vision for your community and a mission statement before crafting a tag line. That's because the work involved in creating vision and mission statements, if done well, will generate language and energy for a tag line.
Tag lines that reflect a vision of community will elevate your perspective, have future-oriented language, or start with a verb, and might look like this:
- Your Jewish Home in Colorado Springs, Temple Shalom, Colorado Springs, CO
- Western Connecticut's Oldest Synagogue, Congregation B'nai Israel, Danbury, CT
- Creating Chai: 18 Years and Growing, Midbar Kodesh, Henderson, NV
- Large enough to serve you; Small enough to know you, Peninsula Sinai Congregation, Foster City, CA
- Big enough to enrich you. Small enough to know you, Congregation Beth Ahm, West Bloomfield, MI
- Where every member counts and every voice is heard," Congregation Rodef Shalom, Denver, CO
- The Center of Our Jewish Lives, Westchester Jewish Center, Mamaroneck, NY
- A Congregation of Friends, Temple Reyim, Newton, MA
- Welcome home, where you belong, North Suburban Synagogue Beth El, Highland Park, IL
- A community of innovation, diversity and joy. A synagogue you can call home. Temple of Aaron, St. Paul, MN
- A Family Place; A Spiritual Home, Temple Beth Ahm, Aberdeen, NJ
3. Know yourself, (Level Two). If you know your members' aspirations and needs, your tag line can promise to help. If your tag line matches what you know about who they would like to become, it may inspire not only your own members, but others seeking the same accompaniment on that journey. Here are examples:
- Come Grow With Us, Congregation Beth Tikvah, Marlton, NJ
- Illuminate the light from within, Congregation Or Hadash, Sandy Springs, GA
- Your Jewish Community is Waiting for You, Highland Park Conservative Jewish Temple, Highland Park, NJ
- Learn, Pray, Participate, Connect, Or Zarua, New York, NY
4. Know yourself, (Level Three). Have a vision for your community and a mission statement before crafting a tag line. That's because the work involved in creating vision and mission statements, if done well, will generate language and energy for a tag line.
Tag lines that reflect a vision of community will elevate your perspective, have future-oriented language, or start with a verb, and might look like this:
- More than a synagogue, a sacred community," Adath Jeshurun, Minnetonka, MN
- From Generation to Generation, Together We Grow, Beth Shalom Congregation, Frederick, MD
- Be inspired; Be Connected; Belong, Beth Hillel Congregation B'nai Emunah, Wilmette, IL
- At Sinai, we connect people to Judaism, each other, Israel, and the world, Congregation Sinai, San Jose, CA
- We practice radical hospitality! Congregation Shirat HaYam, Swampscott, MA
- Building Community & Commitment, Town & Village Synagogue, New York, NY
- Adding Meaning to Life, Valley Beth Shalom, Encino, CA
- For all the days of your life, Anshe Emet, Chicago, IL
- Moving our members closer to G-d, Congregation Etz Hadar, Redlands, CA
5. The number one, best place to start is...anywhere. The process of creating a tag line involves reflection, taking the pulse of your members and the greater community, activating professional or volunteer energy, reviewing your current branding strategies, (especially if "branding" doesn't exist for you yet), maybe even changing your website or creating new printed materials. In the best of processes, starting with any of those objectives will incorporate all of the others. Even if you don't create a tag line, the process of reflection and review is healthy. Start somewhere.
Does your kehilla have a tag line? Share it with others in the comments section!
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