Subscribe to The Jewish Standard free weekly newsletter

 
font size: +
 

When a synagogue shuts its doors, what happens to its windows?

Local mergers reflect a national trend

 
|| Tell-a-Friend || Print
 
 

Bergen County’s synagogue mergers reflect a national trend, according to Jonathan Sarna, professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University.

The trend has several causes, he said, including the economic downturn and declining synagogue affiliation among Reform and Conservative Jews.

According to the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, the number of families affiliated with the movement’s synagogues in the Northeast dropped by 30 percent in the past decade.

Another factor in Conservative mergers are long-term changes in the movement. When the Conservative movement began building its suburban synagogues in the 1950s, Sarna said, “they assumed that there were members who walked, so you tended to have Conservative synagogues every couple of miles. Nowadays, you don’t make that assumption.”

That would explain why Fair Lawn, which encompasses 5.2 square miles, had four Conservative synagogues before mergers reduced them to two, one egalitarian and one traditional.

“In terms of the Reform movement, I think that the economic downturn hit the Reform movement particularly hard, as did the Great Depression, because for some Reform Jews, paying synagogue dues was a discretionary expense,” he said.

Sarna said synagogue mergers have been a constant in American Jewish history. A wave of mergers took place when Jews began moving to suburbia. Chicago’s KAM Isaiah Israel synagogue, famed for its location across the street from President Barack Obama’s former home, is the result of merger of several Reform congregations. “As that area of Chicago changed and the Jews moved out, all of them merged into one congregation,” Sarna said.

He believes that larger cultural trends herald more bad news for synagogue affiliation and continuing interest in mergers.

“We’ve gone a significant number of decades of having a religious revival, where much of the talk was about people becoming more religious. I think there’s growing evidence that that era has ended and in fact we’re seeing — as we did in the 1920s — a movement in the other direction, away from churches and synagogues. We’ve seen these cycles throughout American history,” he said.

 

More on: When a synagogue shuts its doors, what happens to its windows?

 
 
 

Sons of Israel’s parting gifts

 

(And other questions about closure)

For an ailing synagogue, merging with a healthier congregation is seldom Plan A.

“It’s something that develops over a period of years, because the first choice is to make what you have work,” said Mel Glantz, who was a long-time member of Cong. Beth Israel of Northern Valley in Bergenfield. “There’s a sense of failure when you’ve got to merge.”

Nevertheless, his synagogue merged with another Conservative congregation, Beth Sholom in Teaneck, in 2008. It was one of eight synagogue mergers in North Jersey over the past five years.

 
 
 
|| Tell-a-Friend || Print
 
 

Stay tuned for the return of comments

 

A love story

Cory Booker talks about growing up in Harrington Park, falling in love with Judaism

Often it’s easy to pick out a non-Jewish candidate trawling for Jewish votes.

He’ll show up at a shul wearing a fancy crocheted kippah with his name spelled out along the edge; it’ll be pinned to cover the bald spot precisely. (Really, if you’re going to wear one, you might as well benefit from it, right?)

He’ll throw out Yiddishisms with abandon — mishuganeh here, mensch there, oy, oy everywhere. He’ll talk about getting a bagel with a schmear. (Do you know any Jew who has ever eaten one of those? Me neither.)

In order to show his deep, lifelong sense of connection to the Jewish community, he’ll pander so hard it must make his teeth hurt.

But if you are looking for an actual Judeophile, a non-Jew whose connection to the Jewish world is longstanding, emotional, spiritual, intellectual, and clearly real, you would have to direct your gaze in another direction.

 

From the Union to the Union

Rabbi Daniel Freelander of Ridgewood moves from one Reform institution to head another

Rabbi Daniel Freelander of Ridgewood is an avuncular, charming, modest man. To talk to him is to feel entirely at ease.

And then you realize that you are talking to someone who has been instrumental in the development of liberal Judaism — in both the way it looks and operates, and even more profoundly in the way it sounds.

Rabbi Freelander, 62, is leaving his comfortable berth as senior vice president at the Union for Reform Judaism — the organization for which he has worked in various capacities for 39 years — to become president of the World Union for Progressive Judaism. In some ways the move is minor — the two organizations share a floor in a midtown Manhattan office building, and Rabbi Freelander is keeping his office. But in other ways it is huge — his responsibilities go from national to international, and from the Reform movement to the larger liberal world, of which Reform Judaism is a significant — but not the only — stream.

 

‘Stop at the Red Apple’

Founder’s daughter talks about her childhood at the Route 17 landmark

It’s one of those absolute generational and geographic divides.

If you are from somewhere other than here, or if you are below, say, 40 or so, the Red Apple Rest means nothing to you.

But if you are from here, defined very broadly, and if you are at least nudging middle age, then even if you never actually went there, your memory will conjure up images of that iconic place. It was what? A diner, sort of, or more accurately a cafeteria, a rest stop on the way up to the mountains. (And if you have to ask which mountains, then never mind. It’s the Catskills, dear. Now go and play while we grown-ups talk…)

The Red Apple Rest — the never-closed oasis that drew motorists off the macadamed hell that was Route 17 as they made their almost endless way to their vacations or summer bungalows — was created by Reuben Freed, who made it his life and loved it dearly. Elaine Freed Lindenblatt, 72, who lives in Tappan, N.Y. and is the youngest of Mr. Freed’s four children, has written a memoir, “Stop at the Red Apple,” chronicling the family’s life there. Its publisher, SUNY Press, will release the book in January.

 

RECENTLYADDED

Art versus life

Tenafly JCC to host work of mid-century Jewish artist

Stories about starving artists, creative souls driven to make art no matter what it does to them or to their families, are among our culture’s most basic tropes.

They can be tragic — the ballerina dancing to death in her red shoes, the writer starving in his garret — but they somehow end well, if posthumously, with the artist finally recognized for his or her genius.

It’s not impossible that this scenario will play itself out for the artist Jack Goresko, who certainly has the first part of it nailed. That’s the part where he had to live a tortured life, compelled to make art, driven to make art, ignoring his family and getting by on scraps, and dying, in 1991, largely unrecognized.

Now, though, his son, Eben Goresko, has gathered, restored, and begun to show his work. Jack Goresko’s paintings and sketches will be on display at the Kaplen JCC on the Palisades in Tenafly from November 2 to November 23. (The show will open with a reception on Sunday, November 2, from 1 to 3.)

 

The father of Jewish Home Family retires

Charles Berkowitz, visionary creator of compassionate services for the elderly, looks back

In 1970, when Charles P. Berkowitz of Glen Rock became assistant administrator at the Jewish Home and Rehabilitation Center in Jersey City, President Nixon was sending troops to Cambodia, antiwar riots were roiling college campuses, and the New York Marathon was making its debut.

Chuck Berkowitz, just 29 at the time, already had a vision far beyond that decade. He anticipated and implemented forward-thinking approaches to elder care that have earned him many awards and approbations in the past 44 years.

At the Jewish Home’s annual gala dinner last Sunday at the Rockleigh Country Club, he was feted upon his retirement as president and CEO of the Jewish Home Family, a position he held since June 2009. He became CEO of the Jersey City site in 1982. The facility, founded in 1915 as the Hebrew Orphans Home of Hudson County, moved to Rockleigh in 2001 as Hudson’s Jewish population declined.

 

Retelling Genesis

Okay. Let’s start with full disclosure.

I’ve never met Barry Louis Polisar, so it’s nothing personal. But his music for children — he says now that he’s been told that he’s a pioneer in the “kindie” movement (that’s indie music for kids) — was a huge part of our lives, back when my kids and the world and I were young.

Mr. Polisar is based in Maryland, but he sometimes played here; he’d do the occasional early-Sunday-morning live show at WFDU, at Fairleigh Dickinson University in Teaneck, and we’d all go to see him. We first heard about him on Kids America, an extraordinary (and therefore short-lived) children’s public radio show aired on WNYC, where such classics as “I’ve Got A Teacher, She’s So Mean” and “I Lost My Pants” and “Don’t Eat the Food That Is Sitting on Your Plate” were in heavy rotation.

 
 
S M T W T F S
1
2 3 4 5 6 7 8
9 10 11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20 21 22
23 24 25 26 27 28 29
30