Rabbi on recent antisemitic attacks: A synagogue is more than a synagogue

When something like this happens, rabbis across the country experience the same quiet sequence of events: congregants begin texting, parents ask whether it is safe to bring their children to religious school, and staff members review security procedures before the next gathering.

Thanks to the Jewish Federation and the Secure Community Network, we are immediately in dialogue with local and federal law enforcement and civic leadership. None of this is theoretical. Sadly, it is the practical reality of leading a synagogue today.

What often goes unnoticed outside the Jewish community, though, is what a synagogue actually is in the life of a city.

People gather to pray and build community

Credit: Devon McKenna

Credit: Devon McKenna

People imagine a synagogue primarily as a religious space, and it certainly is that. A synagogue is where Jews gather to pray, mourn, celebrate weddings and watch a teenager nervously read from sacred scripture for the first time.

Yet in Atlanta, as in many American cities, synagogues also function as civic institutions whose work extends well beyond their membership.

On any given week, synagogue buildings host blood drives with local hospitals, collect food for neighborhood pantries, house the homeless and organize volunteers to support refugee resettlement.

Clergy gather with Christian and Muslim colleagues to address shared concerns, and community groups use synagogue space for conversations that have nothing to do with theology and everything to do with the well-being of the city.

While most people who pass through synagogue doors are Jewish, many who enter, especially during these efforts, are not.

They are neighbors who care about the same city and who understand that institutions with different missions often share the same hopes for the communities around them.

In that sense, a synagogue is not simply a place where Jews gather; it is one of the many civic spaces where the habits of cooperation and shared responsibility are practiced.

Civic life of a city quietly takes place here

This is precisely why an attack on a synagogue cannot be understood only as an attack on Jews but also as an attempt to intimidate an institution that contributes to the public life of the city.

When someone targets a synagogue, they are striking at a place where people volunteer, where faith leaders meet across traditions, where communities come together to address the needs of their neighbors.

The hatred may be directed at Jews, but the damage is aimed at something larger.

Despite the violence and antisemitism we have experienced, this weekend, and every weekend, synagogues will still gather for prayer.

This weekend, and every weekend, children will still learn the stories and songs of Jewish tradition, families will still celebrate life’s milestones beneath a wedding canopy or around a Torah scroll, and neighbors of different faiths will still walk through synagogue doors for programs and partnerships that serve the broader community.

A synagogue is, of course, a Jewish institution. But it is also something more. It is one of the places where the civic life of a city quietly takes shape, and when such a place is threatened, the concern belongs not only to Jews but to everyone who believes that communities grow stronger when they care for one another.

Rabbi Bradley G. Levenberg, Ph.D., is a senior rabbi at Temple Sinai and president of the Atlanta Rabbinical Association.