What I learned from visiting almost every synagogue in Melbourne

Melbourne may have more shules than its population seems to justify, but every one has a distinct raison d’etre.

Two years ago, I decided to visit every synagogue in Melbourne, or at least as many as I could get to. I estimate that there about 80 synagogue services on a regular Shabbat in Melbourne and I have visited about 70 of them – writing about the experience in The Jewish Independent and on my blog.

I have tried synagogues of every flavour, from Haredi to Reform, domed architecture to classroom cluster. The only synagogues excluded from my experiment were those that I couldn’t walk to on Shabbat, such as Doncaster, Dingley and a few others.

I went to each shule with no judgement and wrote only about what I saw. On a couple of occasions this got me into a little bit of hot water, when I observed the chaos of constant noise, or by contrast, when I commented on intense silence that made me feel unwelcome.

I have learned three main things from my synagogue cruising.

The first is that the vast majority of congregations, even those that I thought would be insular and closeted, like the Haredi Adass Israel, were welcoming and inviting. In almost every shule I went to, at least one person came up and introduced themselves and made me feel welcome.

The second lesson is that every shule exists for a reason. Each is different, despite looking and feeling like a recognisable Shabbat service. Some were founded independently, others as breakaways, but each has a niche and distinctive style.

I have been to quite a number of shules that struggle to get a minyan, and others that know they won’t usually get one, but each is serving a community – large or small – that wants this particular shule.

Finally, I have learned why people go to shule on a Shabbat morning. In my experience, shule-goers fall into two broad categories, regardless of the type of shule they attend. There are those who go out of obligation, religious, communal or familial; and there are those who go out of pure desire.

For those in the first category, if the shule they go to suddenly stopped existing, they would easily find another one and make it their own. They are driven by the need to attend a service.

But for those in the second category, their entire shule and often much of their Jewish experience is tied directly to a particular shule. If not for their shule, they would likely not go to shule at all and might even lose some of their connection to Judaism.

This is particularly true for those who go to little synagogues: neighbourhood Chabad houses in suburbs outside of Caulfield, and specialised shules like Sephardi synagogues, Hamayan, Spiritgrow, Shira Hadasha, Shtiebel, Kedem and others.

There is a fervour and a passion in these small minyanim that is often missing in mainstream and larger synagogues. The vast majority of people come because they want to give up their Saturday morning in pursuit of something spiritual or communal, rather than out of a sense of obligation or belief. They are in search of meaning and a connection to Judaism and have often found it pretty much only in their shule.

If their shule suddenly closed, they would be left with nowhere to go – which is partly why some of those shules were set up in the first place. The shule itself, and the type of service it offers, is often the very specific anchor to Judaism that these people are searching for. 

One of the main reasons I started my blog in the first place is because I have never judged people for their beliefs. Whilst the majority of synagogues in Melbourne are affiliated to the Orthodox stream, numbers alone don’t determine which stream of Judaism is the most authentic.

I personally believe that if a particular type of service brings people closer to Judaism in any form, then it has value. Therefore, if every stream has merit, then my goal in going to all the shules and writing about them was to expose that merit and to find common ground, especially during these dark days when there are so many external threats to our community.

I hope to bring what I have learned to my next venture. I am running for Port Phillip Council for essentially the same reasons that I value in our many and varied synagogues. Councils, at their most basic form are about bringing people together, are about addressing specifically local issues, and are about ensuring that people are comfortable in place.

I greatly enjoyed attending the different services, and despite our differences, I believe our community is strong at heart. I hope to have an opportunity to make it even stronger.