The writer, Shira Milgrom, compares Judaism to an architect: "Just as a gifted space planner can be given 3000 feet of open office space- and by adding divisions, structure and furniture, he can create more space than was there before, so Judaism does the same with time. Judaism is a brilliant architect of time- the architect of time- and Shabbat its major work of art." Judaism knows the value of time, it knows how to make it holy, and through its Sabbaths and Holy days, we create stunning palaces, and awesome sanctuaries, in time.
Each of us can think of moments in our lives when we have felt this to be true. I'll never forget when I first realized that Shabbat had become an indispensable organizing principle for me. I was a freshman in college. I had gotten into the habit, every Friday night, of joining my friends at Havurat Shabbat, which is what we called our small Jewish organization at Haverford and Bryn Mawr colleges. We didn't just make dinner together, we "made Shabbes" together. We davened around the dinner table. We benched, and we sang for hours often late into the night. We learned each other's melodies, and reveled in the Shabbas world we created, a heightened warmth and reality that existed nowhere else on campus, but within the walls of that living room.
Well, one Friday that spring, I decided to skip Havurat Shabbat, because there was a party at Bryn Mawr, which I really didn't want to miss. So I went. I no longer remember much about that party, but I do remember this: Walking home late, past the darkened building where Havurat Shabbat met, knowing that I had missed my weekly ritual, I felt strangely empty. And what was worse: on campus, there was no Shabbat observance on Saturday, so I had in effect, missed Shabbat for the week. For the next few days, my timing felt completely off. Everything seemed out of balance, and I couldn't wait for that week to end. That's when I knew that I was hooked- that I could never again let go of Shabbat, which had become my anchor in time. This is the meaning of Shabbat, in the words of Leo Baeck: "to give to man peaceful hours, hours completely diverted from everyday life, seclusion from the world, in the midst of the world."
This year, Temple Israel is embarking upon not one, but two building projects. The first is a nationwide effort on the part of United Synagogue to reinvest in our relationship to Shabbat- to help our members bring Shabbat into their homes and into their lives, and to reinvigorate our communal sense of Shabbat as a holy sanctuary in time.
We will be approaching this in many ways. Last year, we matched over 50 congregational families to share Shabbat at home with one another through our wonderful Shabbat Connection Program. This year, we will match even more families. We will be offering a series of classes, throughout the entire year, that will teach families the skills they need to increase their home repertoire of Friday night rituals. The Religious School will focus on teaching Shabbat values and skills to both children and parents. And we will sponsor even more Shabbat dinners, Shabbat afternoon family programs, and study sessions then in the past. I truly believe that the words, "Jewish Continuity", are empty words, unless we help our families to regain a sense Shabbat as a priority and as a joy in their lives.
The second project is aimed at reinvesting in a different sacred structure- our Synagogue- a sanctuary of bricks and mortar- a sanctuary in space. Each structure, the one in time and the one in space, informs the other. What we do together as a sacred community- how we pray, or study, or celebrate, determines the kind of physical space that we need. And at the same time, a building that is limited in size, or in vision, can set very real limits on the spiritual vision of a community.
Thirty five years ago, when our present building was constructed, it seemed as if we could never fill its space. After our earlier, cramped quarters in down town Natick, the Hartford Street Temple Israel seemed huge- more than adequate to fulfill the mission of a synagogue- to be a Beit tefillah, a House of Prayer, a Beit Midrash, a house of Study, and a Beit knesset- a center for community celebration and observance.
Yet, in the years since, although that three-fold mission has remained unchanged, the vision of how to achieve it has not.
Back them for example, it seemed proper that on Shabbat morning, the entire adult community should gather in one prayer service, together in the sanctuary. The idea of small groups gathering for alternative prayer or study experiences would have seemed unwise, if not inappropriate. Today, however, we encourage small groups such as the Learners Service, Rosh Hodesh Group and others, to experiment, to learn, and to take seriously their unique spiritual needs. On many Shabbat mornings, between the main service, the learners service and three different levels of youth services, not to mention baby sitting, we have parents and children davening in six different locations! Who could have foreseen that thirty five years ago?
Back then, the Main Sanctuary was a place for adults only, and the very young were left home with babysitters. Today, however, the desire for decorous services has given sway to the spiritual desire of today's parents to have their children with them when they pray. And they are right. We are raising a generation of children who feel at home in our sanctuary from the tenderest age. (Isn't that better than the old way, when by the time we would let children into the sanctuary, they were already on their way to becoming teenagers, and out of the synagogue for good, without ever having had the opportunity to create warm shul memories)!
The architecture of our sanctuary, however, does not easily accommodate this cultural shift. And so, while we need open space in the rear or in the corners of the room for parents and children to move without disturbing the davening, we don't have them. The "stroller wars" that sometimes break out on a Shabbat morning could be avoided, with architectural modifications. There are many lovely things that one can say about our sanctuary. "Family friendly" is not one of them.
Furthermore, if you visit congregations that have recently remodeled the sanctuary, you will see that today, there is a shift away from the audience style seating that was popular in the '50s and'60's and a move towards thrusting the bima forward, and bringing the seating almost into the round. This reflects a spiritual change throughout our Movement-a desire to have a prayer experience that is more engaged, more participatory. Years ago, many people wanted to sit passively, and listen to the cantor and the rabbi. These days many of you want to be the cantor and the rabbi! But that's all right. The sense of spiritual empowerment that has taken hold in the community today is, I believe, a wonderful force. a vital force.
Then of course, there is our chapel. It is a suitable space for morning and evening minyan. However, our Jr. Congregation is growing. Already, the chapel is too small to hold them. And on the High Holidays, the chapel goes unused, because not one of the many groups we will have here tomorrow, is small enough to fit in it.
In 1960, people expected to come for services or for an occasional function or class, or to drop off their kids at Hebrew School. Today, we have discovered that, in an increasingly impersonal and fractured world, the need for the Temple to be a Beit Knesset- a center for community, is even greater than ever. Our members come here, every day, simply to socialize, to connect with one another. But, for a 1990's community center, we have a striking paucity of public places in which to gather. We don't even have a waiting room where one might read a Jewish magazine, or have a cup of coffee, while waiting for an appointment. From an architectural perspective, we are not a welcoming place. The building does not reflect who we are, or who we want to be.
Many people who are looking into Temple membership, are disappointed to see the size, and somewhat worn look of our facility. Frankly, they compare us to newer, more up-to-date synagogue buildings in MetroWest. Where will they hold their simchas-their Bar Mitzvahs and weddings? Not here. We who love our Temple are able to overlook a lot, but many prospective members walk away, before they ever have a chance to find out how warm and rich a community we are. Granted, "fancy" is not what our shared culture is all about here at Temple Israel. But these are hard realities that we need to be aware of. We need to attract a greater share of the potential new members if we are to continue to thrive. There is a broad consensus that something needs to be done about the School wing. The classrooms are tired looking: when prospective members come to visit, you can see the look of disappointment in their faces. And we are running out of space. Three years ago, we were approaching 140 students in our school. Today we have over 190. True, during the baby boom years there were even more. But in those days, we didn't have a Nursery School, which now includes extended day options, as well.
Our library doubles as our Special Needs Classroom. As a result, our classes are neither visiting the library, or checking out books from our collection. The Brides Room doubles as an office. Our Youth Room has been appropriated by the Nursery School to serve as the Gross Motor Room, when it is not being used as the non-smoking Bingo Room! And on Sunday, every room doubles, yet again, as something else. Are you beginning to get my point? We are literally falling all over ourselves in this building, every day of the week.
What you see tonight in the lobby is an architect's rough floor plan of what our building might look like, if we had all of the things that we say we want. It is certainly not a final draft. But it is based on a "wish list" that the architect, Jonathan Lefell, created, after interviewing each one of the Temple Committees- your committees- from Ritual to School, from High Holiday Committee to Youth Commission.
A wish list is an opportunity to expand our horizons, to envision what we might be under the most ideal circumstances. And so I added to my wish list a room which seems to have raised eyebrows in every quarter: A Mikveh. A Mikveh, you say? Why? My answer is simple. When you are expanding your facility, it is the appropriate time to build it. But isn't that just for the Orthodox?
I suggest not. A Mikveh is authentically Jewish, and therefore, no less ours. Yes, few of our families ever encounter a Mikveh. But thirty-five years ago, you could have said the same thing about a lulav, or having a backyard sukkah, or performing havdalah at home. As we Conservative Jews mature as a community, we are coming to understand that nothing Jewish should be alien to us, even if our own parents and grandparents were unfamiliar with these traditions. Its time to take back beautiful traditions, such as the Mikveh, which have been appropriated solely by the Orthodox.
I had this very conversation with a friend a few days ago who said that she was afraid of Mikveh, and would never go to one because she knew so little about it, and would be embarrassed. I asked, "Is that fear any different than the way you felt the first time you held a lulav in your hand?" "Well, no.." she answered. So then, I said. A Mikveh is a ritual bath, generally used by women to fulfill the laws of ritual purity. A Mikveh is also necessary for conversion, and we perform many conversions over the year. The number of non- Orthodox conversions are growing, and we need easy access to community mikvehs.
Furthermore, I am convinced that many brides would be delighted to experience this before their wedding, and add a private, intimate dimension of meaning to that wonderful day in their lives, if the mikveh were located within our own community. Jewish feminists tell me that new rituals, using the mikveh to mark moments such as childbirth, or divorce, or personal renewal, are emerging all the time. Mikvehs aren't old fashioned; they are on the cutting edge of Jewish ritual empowerment.
And so my friends, if we are going to dream about who, as a community, we can serve, and who as Jews, we can be, then I say, lets dream big! We deserve light airy classrooms, and conference rooms, where adults can study and discuss, and grow, without sitting in inappropriate and cramped children's desks. We deserve a building with attractive function spaces, and with functional office spaces, for our volunteers, as well as our professionals. And we deserve a religious facility that enables us to grow in spiritual depth and dimensions.
The sanctuaries in space that we inhabit provide the framework that nurtures and supports Judaism's sanctuaries in time. Thus, these physical spaces, too, are sacred. But they must reflect our holiest visions and potentials. In the end, a community will probably construct for itself what befits it. My friends, let us be a learning community in which nothing Jewish is alien to us. Let us be a striving community in which we continue to grow in personal observance. And let us work, with enthusiasm, towards honing our shared vision as a community, so that we may reach towards our goals, now, in the coming year, and in the years to come. L'Shannah Tovah Tikateivu v'Tichateimu.