At the top of the list of things I love about New York City, is the fact that it is probably the most Jewish and diversely Jewish place in the world. Except perhaps for Israel. Whatever flavor of Jewiness appeals to you, you can find it here, be it movie screenings and wine-tasting classes with secular Jews at Makor, or sheitel-wearing and talmudic study in Williamsburg. Pick your poison, NYC has it.
Those who remember the old joke about a Jew stranded on a desert island who builds two synagogues — one that he goes to and one that he'll never set foot in — will not be surprised to learn that this cornucopia of Jewish choice extends to shuls. There are neo-chassidic shuls with plenty of song and dance, there are up-tight yekkish reform temples, there are hippie reform temples, there are conservative synagogues that lean to the left and conservative synagogues that lean to the right. There are gay shuls and shuls whose members view gayness as an aberration. There are "halchically egalitarian" shuls, shuls that are staunchly un-egalitarian based on halacha, and shuls that don't give a damn about halacha. Add to that a whole slew of independent minyanim of every conceivable flavor and the choice is pretty overwhelming.
If it weren't for all this choice and the fact that, a couple of years back, I was able to find a lovely Brooklyn shul that is pretty traditional when it comes to liturgy, but completely egalitarian when it comes to ladies participating, I might not have found my way back to loving communal Jewish practice.
Problem being, three years down the line and after one year of actual membership in said shul, I feel, well... what if there is something better out there? What if I and this shul I fell in love with three years ago aren't perfect for each other after all? Perhaps I should try a new place to spend the high holidays this year? There are other fish in the sea, etc.
These doubts I am having about my relationship with my shul are compounded by the fact that the friend who has accompanied me to high holiday services the last two years wants to try something new. Unlike me, who grew up going to an orthodox shul in Stockholm because, well, because there really wasn't a whole lot of shuls to choose from, she grew up going to a big reform temple in Rochester and wants something with a more reformish flavor this year. Me, I might want to try something new, but I also love the orthodox-style chest-beating and emoting and endless repetition of the same prayers that goes on in "my" Brooklyn shul.
As much as I love all this choice, I can't help but feel a bit nostalgic for the Stockholm days when I just took what I was given. My Jewish friends who still live there all seem to go to shul for Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur, but they go to one of the three imperfect shuls in Stockholm, complain about them and yet continue going despite their gripes.
Despite three shuls, there is only one Jewish congregation in Stockholm. This congregation strives to incorporate all denominations and please everybody (well, please the orthodox and the conservative at least) and in the process pleases next to no one. Sometimes I miss this. I miss being part of a community that is theologically, socially and politically diverse. A community where Jews of different stripes are forced to work things out because they only have each other. When this doesn't tear us apart I believe it adds something to the community and makes us stronger.
In New York, the temptation is always to seek greener pastures the minute your shul doesn't feel perfect. Thing is, once you start nit-picking and expecting perfection no shul will ever seem perfect. Should I sequester myself and daven alone or with the two people I manage to find whose idea of a perfect service matches mine exactly? That hardly seems like fun either.
Or is this constant splitting off what makes Judaism grow and flourish in a place like New York? Am I just a backwards-minded person. Am I like the escaped animals from the Central Park Zoo in the movie Madagascar who build themselves a cage in the jungle because they can't handle their newfound freedom and the cage reminds them of home?
