As Rabbi Sid Schwarz, author of the just-released Judaism and Justice: The Jewish Passion to Repair the World, writes in this JTA op-ed:

[I]f the Jewish community made social action a signature part of what it means to be Jewish in the 21st century — not in lieu of Jewish learning and practice, but as a complementary part of it — we have a good chance to capture a new generation of Jews with a legacy that traces back to our biblical ancestors.

In the absence of time-stopping pre-cogs who walk through walls and recover from any injury, this is a good start.

This post by Rabbi Andy Bachman

[Cross-posted to IDEAS: thoughts during a day in the life of Rabbi Andy Bachman]

So Chicago is aiming to be one of the first cities to produce a Green Synagogue. I like that. They have the space out there to do it in a way that we don"t here in Brooklyn but it puts on the table this broader issue, yet again, of how religious ideas and architectural ideas come together to make an ethical statement about energy-use, community building, and the pursuit of the holy all come together.

Apparently this is an increasingly strong investment choice for homeowners and it skews toward a younger generation and how they think about their property values, which is a very interesting sign. Wells Fargo"s recent survey indicates that 24% of its annually surveyed homeowners “dream green.”

Now to make the big leap. Inspiring Jews across the generations to care as much about their Houses of God as their Houses of the Family and Self. This transition, from the individuated to the communal, is one of the great challenges of our day.

Where our synagogue is located in Brooklyn is one of the most sought after sections of real estate in New York City. Housing values continue to rise, melding together architecture and beauty. As Alain de Botton argues in his new book, The Architecture of Happiness, “Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are, for better or for worse, different people in different places–and on the conviction that it is architecture"s task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be.”

Who we might ideally be is what the synagogue should be all about. So here we build not happiness, but goodness, which, if achieved, can make you happy.

This post by Rabbi Larry Hoffman

Why are services either too long or too dull, or both?

Start with long. On Shmini Atseret this year, I attended one of the best shuls in the country, and was blown away by all the great stuff our tradition offers for the day. At the hakafot, I sang my heart out at Aneinu – God, “answer us.” We ended one year"s reading of Torah and started all over again – great stuff, that: the death of Moses and then creation. Then there was the traditional prayer for rain, Geshem —chanted beautifully. But we didn"t get out until 1:30! A recent Washington Post interview of new converts to Judaism featured people loving their Jewish identity, but complaining, “I just cannot get used to such long services.” I suspect they will soon learn to be like the rest of us – and skip them.

As for dull: I sent a friend to High Holiday services as a “mystery davener” – you know, someone secretly taking notes on what is going on. She was an expert in ritual, not a practicing Jew who would otherwise be there anyway. Her conclusion? “Why don"t Rabbis spend more time making sure services blow people away! Instead it put them to sleep. Here is the only time everyone comes, and all you worry about is your rabbinic sermon. Then there was the cantor who loved to sing, as if we all loved equally to listen. No wonder no one comes back.”

We make the mistake of confusing liturgy with worship. Our ancestors who composed our prayers did not intend them to get in the way of actual prayer.

Any solutions out there?

This post was written by Ron Wolfson

It looks like our Christian friends have discovered Shabbes.

In the New York Times article (10/22/06) titled “Prepare Thee for Some Serious Marketing,” we learn that one of the granddaddy megachurches - Willow Creek Community Church in Barrington, Illinois - has introduced “The Table,” a new program for members featuring a meal, conversation and prayer. Willow Creek brought in Randy Frazee, a well-known author and leader in the church growth movement (see his The Connecting Church), to create a new way to do small groups. In his book, Frazee emphasizes the importance of relationships that lead to a genuine sense of belonging as opposed to the sometimes superficial social circles that are the result of forced groups. With “The Table,” the church is targeting members who live in the same neighborhoods and bringing them together for an informal meal and conversation, hoping to strengthen connectedness and loyalty to the brand of Willow Creek. More than 6,000 people recently attended several hundred weekend “Tables” in the neighborhoods surrounding the church.

There’s a new movie coming out called Deja Vu and this story feels like deja vu all over again. Some 25 years ago when I first began to research “family education” approaches in other religions, I visited with the key leadership of the Mormon Church in Salt Lake City to learn about their very successful “Family Home Evening” model.

“Oh,” Brother John told me, “it’s really quite simple. Every Monday night, we ask families to gather together for a meal, seated at a table rather than in front of the television, and we encourage the parents and children to talk with one another about spiritual matters beyond ‘what did you do in school today.’ There is usually some Bible study, some singing, and lots of interaction. Some families even do the dinner by candle light!”

Add some wine - and it sounds like Shabbat to me!

Synagogue 3000 has identified a similar phenomenon among what we call Jewish Emergent spiritual communities - groups that emphasize the notion of hospitality as a fundamental building block for community organizing. Rabbi Dov Gartenberg of Panim Hadashot in Seattle has hosted many “table” meetings over Shabbat and holiday celebrations in homes throughout the area… Some of our S2K/S3K congregations have introduced similar attempts to transcend the borders of the synagogue parking lot.

In my recent book, The Spirituality of Welcoming: How to Transform Your Congregation into a Sacred Community (Jewish Lights Publishing), I emphasize the importance of creating a synagogue of relationships that goes far deeper than the typical program-centered menu of activities offered by most congregations. “The Table” and the experiments of Jewish Emergent are examples of what I call radical hospitality, a critical component of sacred community.

Finally, lest you think this idea is only for young professionals, my wife Susie and I - along with four other baby-boomer couples whose adult children have flown the coop - enjoy Shabbat dinner once a month with our “Empty Nester Shabbat Group.” It’s a potluck “table” which begins at 7:30 p.m. and often lasts late into the evening, filled with great food, ritual, heated political conversation, good jokes, and always begins and ends with blessings. There is only one rule: no children allowed. No synagogue created this group; we did it ourselves to meet a sharply perceived need; Shabbes just didn’t feel right when sitting alone at home.

Clearly, it’s harder to do this than to bring people into the synagogue building. But, just as the Hillel Foundation learned to transform itself by branching out beyond its buildings to reach college students, synagogues that reach out and extend their brand into the neighborhoods and dining rooms of their members may very well find this to be an important step in transforming frequent-flyer congregations into communities of meaning.