My life as an intentional synagogue cruiser

ALEX KATS, who has visited more than 60 synagogues across Melbourne, believes every stream of Judaism provides a place where Jews can participate in an observance of their Jewishness.

Sometime in the early 2000s I became aware of meeting a “Conservative” Jew, someone whose commitment to Judaism lies on a spectrum between Orthodox and Progressive. I knew about the different strands of Judaism and had attended a large Progressive synagogue in Melbourne many years ago for bar mitzvahs (there was no Conservative synagogue at that time), but otherwise I had little to do with non-Orthodox Jews.

Like the majority of Jews, I grew up secular, but the synagogues we attended once or twice a year, or for simchas, were always Orthodox. In part this was because most shules in Australia are Orthodox, but also because that is the way things always were, especially in Melbourne.

For most Jews in my circle, life-cycle events took place in Orthodox settings irrespective of religious practices at home. Anyone other than Orthodox was seen as an anomaly.

It was at an international Jewish seminar that I met Jews who were not Orthodox. By this time, I was much more religiously observant than my family, and definitely under the influence of traditional Orthodoxy. Some of the people I met were religious but attended a Conservative synagogue, and others were secular but observed their life-cycle occasions at Progressive or Conservative congregations. I was fascinated and began to explore.

Initially, I did some reading to familiarise myself with the ideas and practices of the non-Orthodox, and through my communal work I visited many of the Jewish schools in Melbourne, including King David School, under the Progressive banner, but had yet to visit a Progressive shule.

Then one Friday night about 15 years ago, I went down the road to Temple Beth Israel, the Progressive congregation I had only seen the inside of on two previous occasions for bar mitzvahs. But this time I didn’t go out of obligation or through coercion. I went because I wanted to, and with an open mind. What I found surprised me.

I had expected the Reform* service to be a watered-down version of what I was used to. However, although there were certainly differences that made me feel a little uncomfortable at times (like some of the English prayers), I discovered a congregation of Jews who were caring, passionate and just as engaged in their Judaism as the Jews in the Orthodox congregations that I was familiar with.

In fact, I sensed that some were even more engaged because there was much less chatter during the services.

That first encounter left a lasting mark. It opened my mind to the idea that non-Orthodox practices of Judaism might be just as legitimate as any others. Although the Orthodox versions of Judaism may always be closer to my heart, if a particular strand of Judaism means that someone becomes more connected to, or engaged with their Jewish heritage, who am I to dismiss that?

To show myself that I was serious about inclusion and not delegitimising anyone, I made a point of attending every congregation in town.

At this point, more than a decade on, I believe I have been to a service of some sort at each of the 60-plus synagogues of every persuasion across Melbourne, from Orthodox, ultra-Orthodox and Chabad shules, to a partnership minyan, a Conservative shule, numerous Progressive congregations and even one that removed God’s name from their prayer books.

On Shabbat, when I don’t drive, I don’t mind a good walk and I have been to synagogues that are close, as well as to ones that are one or even two hours walking distance away in almost every direction. Distance is never a barrier.

For me, going to shule is much less of a spiritual experience than it is an opportunity for community connection and learning, especially on Shabbat. It gives me a weekly opportunity to take a break from the hustle of the working week, and I do that by turning off my phone and walking to shule.

That action alone rejuvenates me every week, and as a result, apart from the handful of times when I was travelling in places without Jewish communities or during Covid lockdowns, I haven’t missed a shule service on a Shabbat morning in Melbourne in more than 20 years.

I was one of the first ones back after each lockdown. More often than not I plan my travels around where the synagogues or Jewish communities are located.

Sometimes it is the faces of my fellow congregants who are engrossed in their supplications and have chosen a particular shule because it speaks to them.

But at other times it is a connection to the rabbi, the lack of a rabbi, or the type of service, from one that allows families to sit together, to one that allows women to be called to the Torah. Sometimes it is the rabbi’s sermon, the singing or the choir, the kiddush.

Each synagogue, like each person, has something that we can learn from if we make an effort to do so. Many synagogues also have events, lectures or activities in which I like participating.

In their simplest form, synagogues are our modern renderings of the temple. For every stream of Judaism, the Torah is central and the place of worship is holy. Thus I see all streams of Judaism as worthy because each in their own way brings people in, makes them feel comfortable and provides a place where they can participate in some kind of observance of their Jewishness.

The hardest part is deciding which to attend but it is always a decision I cherish because it means that I will experience something new and different.

It ensures that no type of Jew will ever seem unfamiliar to me again.

* The terms Reform, Liberal and Progressive are often used interchangeably in Australia