What I learned as president of my synagogue
Two years in any position that presents radically new
challenges—where the support structure consists mostly of volunteers,
where core values join with practical considerations as policy
drivers, and where the effects of many actions have to be assessed on
the internal, community, national, and even international levels—are
sure to bring lessons. So in my final column as president of Temple
Shir Tikvah, I decided to records some of the lessons I’ve learned.
Leading doesn’t have to mean launching
This was my first lesson, given to me explicitly by other leaders soon
after I started. Most problems in organizations are identified, and
most solutions suggested, by people such as committee members working
directly on day-to-day matters. These people set the agenda. Other
good ideas an come from the outside (such as the Greater Boston
Interfaith Organization). Vision can be expressed by hooking people
together and synthesizing what they have to say, not just in telling
them what to do.
Information gathering happens separately from decision making
Committees are often assembled to gather information and make
decisions, but I’ve found that these are very different activities
requiring different modalities of conversation.
Unstructured group meetings are great for brainstorming and sparking
new ideas. But the same groups are not so good at making decisions
(anything you have to vote on is sure to have flaws). So when a
direction emerges from the information-gathering stage, I like to
engage group members individually in a flurry of phone calls
(supported by email) and achieve consensus before we walk into a
room to make a decision.
Find out why people are active—and keep reminding them
Articulating the reasons that so many congregants put time, energy,
and emotion into our congregation can help prevent burn-out, and can
attract even more synagogue members to participate.
Ultimately, interviews and small group meetings are the way to draw
out this sensitive information. So I held a personal meeting with
every staff person and every board member of the synagogue shortly
after I began the presidency, and I’m convinced this led to much
better working relationships. I also shared stories of challenges and
successes with others.
Your first intuition is usually right
There’s a lot of research suggesting that our gut instincts tie into
rich internal knowledge we don’t have available consciously. When I
get a certain feeling about a new situation, further investigation
usually proves it to be right.
Your first solution is usually wrong
Even though intuition usually places an issue in the correct
framework, the precise means of addressing the issue requires a lot of
research and negotiation. One example was our security changes to the
heightened threat of violence against Jewish institutions; our current
policy is significantly different from the short-term policy I put in
place as an emergency response.
Every complainer is a contributor
One can always mutter about power struggles and hidden agendas, but
I’ve decided that when a congregant expresses concerns to me, I should
simply take them at face value. When engaged in genuine conversation,
the person who makes a complaint can become a key contributor to the
solution, sometimes making a dramatic turn from their original
negative attitude. Bringing in the stake-holders on all sides also
means getting myself out of the way.
And while we all know that just listening to someone is therapeutic, I
think that listening just once is not enough—I try to to back later
to ask how the congregant feels about the matter after some time has
passed.
Treat every conflict as a chance to get closer to individuals
In addition to using conflict positively to build community, I have
tried to use it to draw closer to the individuals involved in the
conflict. Pirke Avot praises those who learn from everyone around
them. I take it even further: the deeper someone’s disagreements with
me, the more I can gain from understanding them.
Treat every conflict as a door into the congregation
One of the biggest attitude changes I needed to make was to train
myself to welcome challenge. Those of us who have struggled with a
challenge have learned more about the history of our community and its
values. Once the crisis was over, we had more tools and experience to
deal with future crises.
Treat every conflict as a door into Judaism
Who could be so proud as to think that he was the only one who had
ever suffered a particular malady? Obviously, whatever is bothering
our congregation must be troubling others as well. In truth, each
conflict reflects an element of modern American Jewish life.
Therefore, I can become a better citizen in that community by
understanding the conflicts in my home congregation.
Once I understood this, it made me eager to get to know the larger
community better. I went to seminars and get-togethers sponsored by
Jewish and other faith organizations, read mailing lists carefully,
and chatted with people about their congregations whenever I ran into
someone who was active in a faith community. I am convinced now of our
need to give support to—and get support from—these broader
institutions.
Culture is resilient
In a growing organization like ours, with so many new members each
year, a certain anxiety arises that we’ll lose the values and
behaviors that make us so attractive. But I believe communities tend
to maintain their initial culture, so long as people join through
natural choice. This is why companies (and even countries) are hard to
turn around when challenged by changing external conditions. But it
also means that Temple Shir Tikvah, so long as we manage the other
challenges of growth, can trust our culture to continue to shine
forth.
More Biblical commentaries
Andy Oram
May, 2007
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.