Not my question, but one posed expertly in this article from the Alban Institute. Thanks to Hayyim Herring and Menachem Creditor for posting it first. Feel free to give it a read and respond! What's your preference in synagogue life?

Authority or Leadership?

by Dan Hotchkiss

In olden times, we like to think, society accorded great authority to clergy. Whether or not this rosy generalization stands up to scrutiny (it does not), we mainstream clergy certainly have lost some of the cachet our counterparts enjoyed from 1945 to 1965 or so. Many people then believed attending and supporting congregations to be just as much a part of being a good person as stopping at stop signs, dressing neatly, and keeping your lawn mowed.

I believe our loss of authority presents clergy with a great opportunity. Authority, appealing as it is, can also be confining. In the days of easy postwar growth, U.S. congregations fell into rigid patterns and became more similar to one another. Like an inbred, highly cultivated strain of livestock, they became vulnerable to common threats. The social changes of the 1960s brought death to many congregations, especially—I would say—those that depended too much on authority.

The opportunity for us lies in developing a new capacity for leadership. Ron Heifetz, in Leadership without Easy Answers, sheds light on the differences between authority and leadership, and suggests how by depending on authority less and learning to lead better, we can redevelop a more varied, robust, and disease-resistant strain of congregations in America.

Authority is the legitimate power to make things happen. Check-signing authority, for instance, is the power to compel the bank to release funds. The right to direct the work of others, to hire and fire, to sign contracts, or to choose sermon topics—all these are examples of the formal authority given by a congregation to designated leaders.

Authority can be informal also: when some people speak, others listen. Jesus "spoke as one with authority," and so do certain long-time, trusted leaders of a congregation, whether they hold office at the moment or not. Formal or informal, authority is always given to us by others

And sure enough, those who give authority expect something in return. Check-signers must sign only the approved and proper checks, congregations must provide expected services, and preachers are expected to give sermons people like. Anyone who has authority and wants to keep it needs to pay attention to the strings attached.

Leadership, as Heifetz defines it, is quite different. Leadership is not a personal trait, but an activity: getting the whole group to address its most important challenges. Leadership is measured not by whether leaders get their way, but by how well the resources of the congregation come to bear on crucial questions.

Authority can be a help to leaders, giving them the right to convene meetings, name issues, and hold the group’s attention. But the expectations that accompany authority can be a hindrance. People do not usually give authority in the hope that leaders will distress them by inviting them into hard conversations! Only certain people—call them managers—can use authority, but anyone, from any seat or pew, can lead.

Managers use their authority by making decisions; leaders exceed their authority by making others ponder troubling questions. Managers calm people by resolving ambiguity; leaders often frustrate people by refusing to decide quickly what can only be solved slowly. The most important challenges are too big for individual decision-makers to address alone. That's where leaders come in to bring the whole group's gifts to bear.

Which situations call for authority and which for leadership? One consideration is the nature of the challenge to be faced. If the furnace breaks, it must be repaired. The congregation needs to authorize someone to pick a contractor and spend money pronto. But a once-successful youth program that no longer attracts participation may need a cross-section of good heads to take whatever time they need to cook up a fresh vision of youth ministry.

A second factor in deciding whether to use authority or practice leadership is the amount of courage available. A "broken" youth ministry may be fixable simply by replacing one of the moving parts—for instance, a staff member. That's the easy course. But for a brave congregation, even a broken furnace could become the kind of challenge Heifetz calls "adaptive." Such a congregation might choose to interpret the cold sanctuary as a wakeup call, and ponder whether to install a new, "green" heating system.

The deciding factor often comes down to the fact that even the bravest congregations can deal with only a few adaptive issues at a time. Many congregations have no "bandwidth" for adaptive leadership at all, because their leaders are too busy using their authority. A clergy leader who cannot delegate to staff and volunteers soon has no time to address bigger issues. A governing board that is reluctant to delegate authority to staff ends up in the same position. Without a firm and mandatory plan for delegating authority, the decision-making demands that come with authority quickly overwhelm the people at the top of any organization. It is tempting, when this happens, to interpret every issue as a technical, decision-making matter.

The temptation to quick fixes is nowhere greater than in the fields of money, property, and personnel. A deficit, at one level, is merely a problem in arithmetic: expenses exceed revenues. The problem can be fixed by lowering one, raising the other, or a combination. Looking at a deficit this way leads us to ask questions of authority: Who can cut spending? What fund-raising methods will induce greater giving? When it comes to money, where does the "buck" stop?

But a deficit invariably points beyond itself to deeper issues. Perhaps the congregation has become overly dependent on endowment revenues. Perhaps it is still trying to engage people in outdated concepts of membership. Perhaps it clings to a grand style of congregational life that no longer fits the values or lifestyles of potential members.

Questions like these deserve the sustained attention of a varied group of leaders, information from outside, and time for conversation, prayer, reflection, and decision. Who will do this? Unless the senior clergy and governing board have freed themselves by delegating some of their authority to others, they will never get around to dealing with the most important matters on their plate.

Fortunately, anyone can lead. While it is far from the ideal solution, when official leaders fail, then leadership can still emerge from the periphery: from ad hoc planning teams, from voices crying in the wilderness, even from the mouths of babes.

"I am 70 years old, I am going to die, but these people have to fight to live"

Things are clearly heating up in Egypt, now four days into their unrest, itself a response to the unrest in Tunisia that lead to successful regime change (well, the change part is successful; whether it leads to long-term democratic institutions and social justice, that's a different question).

On a certain level, we knew this day would come. The regimes around the Arab world have been playing a dangerous game of populism, demagoguery and dictatorship for 30+ years now, maintaining the status quo, inciting and directing popular anger against Israel (while doing nothing to alleviate the Palestinian situation, with a few notable exceptions), watching their partially state-run economies stagnate, supporting the army (which is often the only strong institution aside from the regime), and convincing the west that it was either their governments or chaos, all the while hoping it wouldn't come to this. And yet it was, to some degree, inevitable. After years of anxiety about the Arab Street, the Maghreb has exploded (or rather, self-immolated).

Someone asked me whether this was good for the Jews, by which I assume she meant Israel. I didn't have a good answer for her. For those of us who love Israel, we want stability, and the fear of the Muslim Brotherhood taking control of Egypt (as Hezbollah has with the Lebanon) is a frightening prospect. After over 30 years of peace, though hardly friendship, it's almost impossible to think of going back that way again.

At the same time, how can our hearts not go out to those who have been in their own captivity for so long? As people (Jews, Israeli, American) who hold the ideals of justice, equality under the law, and liberty, we can't help but marvel at this terrible and violent desire for tzedek being realized. In the same way 22 years ago we stood amazed and anxious as protesters in Tienanmen Square stared down tanks or East Berliners took hammers in their hand to hack away at the wall that imprisoned them for generations, we do the same today.

I don't know if this will be 'good for the Jews' or 'good for Israel' in the short term, long term or anything in between. Egypt and Tunisia could become the Czech Republic, or Lebanon, or Iraq, or Iran (all of which are, I'm sure, terrible analogies for demographic, geopolitical and religious reasons) or the same old Egypt and Tunisia, just led by different strongmen. Or a hundred, a thousand other possibilities. Is it pollyanna to hope that the best possible outcome might happen, with great effort and struggle? Is it too much to hope?

"...they cry to me, I will surely hear their cry..." (Ex. 22:22). Perhaps we should, through our worry and concern and suspicion, listen to their cry as well.

Article from Ha'aretz on the uprising can be found below.

Egypt sends army tanks into cities as curfew goes unheeded - Haaretz Daily Newspaper | Israel News

Snow Day Awesomeness and Sadness

When I find out my son's school is canceled and the synagogue building will be closed, I dig my driveway out and hunker down for the day. My youth director, on the other hand, messages all the families and kids in the congregation to see if they want to have a snow party on the synagogue's front lawn, complete with hot chocolate. Now that's programming! Thanks Brett Schwartz! I'm sure we'll see pictures imminently.

On a much sadder note, condolences to my neighbors Jim and Nancy McFadden, whose adult daughter Denise died today in a horrible snowplow accident. Hamakom Yinachem etchem: may they find comfort and solace in the days ahead.

A confession

I missed most of the State of the Union Tonight; between an executive committee meeting and catching up with my wife, I only caught bits and pieces, and I won't comment politically here. However, I know there was a lot riding on this speech and that there is a general air of concern in their now as there was last year and the year before, a constant state of worry, of anticipation. Despite my dislike of it nearly 20 years ago (really?!) when it was delivered at Bill Clinton's inaugaral, I find myself returning to this poem by Maya Angelou and being drawn to its message of hope and renewal. And I am reminded that, even when I disagree with people, even when things seem very low, I am incredibly proud of the people I'm privileged to encounter, the children of God who surround me every day.

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Volunteering in Israel.

When I was at Shir Ami two of my congregants (who I'm still in touch with) told me about Volunteers for Israel. It's an organization that recruits volunteers (young and old, including retirees) to go to Israel to work on projects, including on IDF bases or in nursing homes.

Now, of course, one can volunteer their wealth, wisdom and work anywhere, and the commute isn't exactly easy. However, I've always thought it was a great way to experience Israel (for people who know the country as well as Israel 'newbies') and learn the land and the people in a more intimate and thoughtful way than just taking a bus tour or doing Birthright (which now does partner with VFI as well). Getting one's hands dirty and making a difference while learning Hebrew in an Ulpan and exploring the country--sounds like a win-win to me!

The schedule is up for 2011-2012, so if you're interested, click on the name of the organization above or go here: http://vfi-usa.org/ (bonus points for Shir Ami or Temple U. folks if you recognize who's in one of the pictures on the website...)

Some thanks and a book review

Sorry for going dark there; this week turned out to be a tad more challenging in terms of time management than I usually like.

A big thanks to those who responded to my questions on what to teach a church group about "Basic Judaism". Great, wonderful and insightful answers and very very helpful! I'm not teaching until February 2nd, but I'm going to use many of the suggestions and report back after my experience.

I've been back in a reading mode for the first time in a long time; before the new year I'd been doing a very bad job of actually reading books (either for work or pleasure) without finding myself bogged down or distracted. I was perhaps getting through 3-6 books a year. Well, since January I've gotten through 6 already, and I thought I'd share some of my thoughts on the more relevant texts.

The first one I wanted to talk about is Judith Shulevitz's The Sabbath World. It's gotten very good reviews and won some awards, and I was both curious and hesitant to read it. Curious because I'm always interested to see how modern Jews are struggling to make the tradition relevant, and hesitant because, well, I was afraid that it was going to be too much of a self-help book (it seemed in that vein) and at least partly because my old alt-rock instincts tell me to be wary when others say something is a good thing.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised when I cracked the book open (okay, I read it on my Kindle, so I didn't do any cracking, but I don't have a better metaphor, so there). While Shulevitz admits her own ambivalence toward the notion of Sabbath and shows us her own struggles to find meaning throughout various points in her life (her childhood observance, her attempts to be shomer shabbat, her explorations of a congregational life, etc.), it is also a careful, albeit non-academic, survey of historical trends and values regarding the Sabbath throughout history. She does a very good job of looking at Jewish and Christian Sabbetarianism in Europe, the Middle East and North America, and while she doesn't use that analysis to point to trends or defend a thesis per se, she does analyze the sociology of the Sabbath; specifically, why the idea has raised such staunch support, but also opposition, through the ages. She writes:

"Americans, once the most Sabbatarian people on earth, are now the most ambivalent on the subject. On the one hand, we miss the Sabbath. When we pine for escape from the rat race; when we check into spas, yoga centers, encounter weekends, spiritual retreats; when we fret about the disappearance of a more old-fashioned time, with its former, generally agreed-upon rhythms of labor and repose; when we deplore the increase in time devoted to consumption; when we complain about the commercialization of leisure, which turns fun into work and requires military-scale budgeting and logistics and interactions with service personnel--whenever we worry about these things, we are remembering the sabbath."

If I have any quibbles with the book, it would be two. Firstly, for such a 'popular' book it has some pretty awkward turns of phrase, and a clear ambition towards academia. While the efforts themselves give the subject greater heft, the voice of the author merely weighs the book down, with her need to reference Habermas, Freud and Harold Bloom. Stephen King, in his Entertainment Weekly column, describes a particular kind of affect in writers as "look ma, I'm writin'!" This could be described more as, "look professor, I'm writin'!"

The other issue--though I'm not sure it is one--is that in her conclusions and recommendations, she maintains that ambivalence toward Sabbath, even to the very end. She writes: "Keeping the Sabbath as our forefathers did strait-jackets us in an identity that we do not choose and for which we may not want to take the consequences. It goes against our yearning for a world of infinite possibility. It exposes us to violence, ridicule, prejudice, ostracism. On the other hand, we are often as irrationally opposed to ritual as ritual is irrational in its demands upon us...Rituals are not just idealized visions of how things can be. They are also artifacts of history." (emphasis mine) In some ways, it's terribly unsatisfying: you want her, as a reader, to plant a flag somewhere. On the other hand, there's something intellectually and spiritually honest about her lack of assuredness, and I think many of us struggling with how to intertwine modern and traditional values can appreciate this refusal to be consistent or certain for its own sake.

So, worth a read. And more than that, worth asking the questions she asks herself: what does it mean to observe a Sabbath, and what happens to our lives (and our society) when the Sabbath is absent?

Oh what a day!

The good: Mini-Mitzvah day/Pajama Day a wonderful success! Got a person back into the synagogue! Raised some money to help with the Carmel fire. Got to put my son down for his nap. Getting to watch (hopefully) some football.

Not so good: the sewer line that needed clearing as it was pumping stuff into our basement.

All better now; Horizon cleared the line (yay!) and the water's draining out thanks to the sump pump, and we're just waiting for the cleanup crew. But oy!

On a more relevant note, this article on NPR on the two political parties integrating the seating up between them rather than sticking to one side or the other makes me happy. I know there's no 'content' to that, and it's purely symbolic, but symbols have power, and if it can help create a more collegial atmosphere, I'm all for that.

Hope to post a couple of book reviews later this week. We'll see if the basement gives me permission...