As I mentioned in a recent post – the liberal branches of Judaism (Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist) are having difficulties connecting to today’s younger generations of adults. This is not a new problem, but one now that is seriously threatening much of what these movements take for granted, since many from the more active generations have passed away. Available minyans, access to clergy, and other Jewish services rely on the existence of a strong foundation in every Jewish area for sustainable futures. Notice the use of the word, “area”?
For generations, Jews have proudly referred to their “communities”, an agglomeration of synagogues, services, and centers of Jewish life within a certain geographic pull. Looking prior to the advent of the superhighway and before there were two cars in every garage, the Jews of America tended to live in tight quarters, with distinct “Jewish neighborhoods” in every city. These still exist today, but generally appeal only to orthodox communities. The result of a mixture of things – increased wealth, desire to intermingle and assimilate, relaxed requirements about marriage, and eased ability to travel – allowed many Jewish-Americans over the past decades to fan out and move into communities of Goyim. It’s not for me to say whether these people made the right decisions or not but it’s hard to describe a 25 or so mile radius of randomly scattered people a “community”. It’s certainly not a coherent one.
There are two direct reasons, however, that Jews no longer feel they need to live near to their synagogues. The first is obvious – liberal Jews are not shomer shabbos. This means that they do not observe the concept of “complete rest” on Shabbat (which requires people not refrain from using a car or spending money among other things), and therefore walking distance is not an issue. For those in the orthodox community, this has kept them living in the area immediately around their synagogues. If they can’t walk there, they can’t get there. The second reason is much more complicated.
Beginning in the 1950’s, suburbs sprang up across the nation. For a variety of reasons including mode preference and socioeconomic limits, these communities were built in a way that required automobile ownership. This was done by building homes are large lots, and placing shopping and services far enough away from housing that walking would be inefficient. Where services were placed in residential areas – such as religious institutions – they were often constructed on large “campuses” – far from the bordering streets. The idea at that time was that this would add to the beauty of the space, comply with ultra-low-density zoning codes, and would, again, ensure that those without private transportation would remain in the cities. As the suburbs expanded, newer buildings were built almost exclusively on main highways, away from housing altogether, with no safe pedestrian access, even if one did desire to arrive on foot. These conditions had an extremely detrimental effect on the idea of community.
How? Prior to suburbanization, synagogues, like everything else, existed on street corners in the middle of neighborhoods. They served as a physical reminder of the religious life in the community, and their location allowed people young and old to walk to services, Hebrew school, and adult ed classes, as well as to hold community meetings and non-religious activities on the premises. Counter to today’s suburban synagogues, which sit empty or near-empty well over 70% of the week, these buildings were used constantly and stood as staples of the community. These were undoubtedly communities in the truest sense.
So why does this matter? We have an opportunity, today, to begin reversing course on the mistakes on the past half-century. As planning and development has reignited concepts such as walkability, high-density residential, mixed-use developments, transit-oriented developments, and the like, synagogues can work to reorient themselves into communities where people can once again choose to walk to shul. This can be done in a few ways. The least drastic involves improvements on these suburban campuses. Are there opportunities to add sidewalks and other “safe routes” concepts? Can expansion or reconstruction bring the building and it’s entrances closer to the road? If a building is too large for its current need, as many are, can it be sold? If so, the synagogue could move to a more walk-able location. Groups like the USCJ, URJ, and JRF could encourage this growth through microloans and grants.
The reason? This will help rekindle our communities. When synagogues once again stand in walk-able neighborhood centers, rather than on the corner of two highways, congregants, and even those who may not be ready to join, will move to this natural Jewish magnet. Granted, those who do not want this, won’t, but with growing antaganism towards car ownership among young adults, getting us involved in a Jewish community will require these groups to provide car-free, or at least car-limited options. As cities grow in both population and wealth, these now suburban-centric movements can either change with the time or become relics of a bygone age.
I for one am really hoping that the synagogue is a staple of American Jewish life for generations to come.
marc dreyfuss 