WHAT MAKES A CONGREGATION AND ITS RABBI “GOOD”?

Ever since the encounter between God and the Serpent in the Garden of Eden, the world has been ravaged by clashes between conflicting definitions of “good.”

Torquemada, Hitler, Tojo, et al, were all genuinely convinced that they were promoting the “good.” Having visited imprisoned inmates for three decades, I have yet to find one who has deemed himself “guilty.” Just ask them: They were duped, they were framed, they intended nothing but “good.”

One would hope that people of faith could at least covenant with each other on a more absolute definition of “good.” Alas, this too was apparently not meant to be.

Beyond murder, adultery, treason, and grand larceny, there loom the everyday, low-voltage, but nonetheless maddening, tiffs over divergent notions of “good”: Was the movie, the restaurant, the party . . . “good”?

What about the rabbi? What about the congregation? Good? Well, I guess so. Well, not really. What makes you say that? I dunno; I can’t really put my finger on it. But . . . he just rubs me the wrong way. But . . . I just guess I like him. But . . . I just don’t feel at home there.

Articulate speaker? Community activist? Compassionate pastor? Credentialed scholar? Solemn, dignified services? Laid-back, participatory services? Bowling league? Daf Yomi shiur? Heavy fleishig Kiddush? Light milchig Kiddush? Asking for an across-the-board definition of what makes a “good” rabbi or congregation “good,” as tempting as it seems, may simply be expecting too much. And, certainly, a rabbi or congregation that aspires to be all things to all people is simply choosing a one-way ticket to madness, burnout, and/or oblivion.

Can the individual congregation, then, come to some internal understanding as to the meaning of “good”? Laypeople, and dare I say rabbis, rarely seem to engage in intentional, thoughtful brainstorming and consensus-building on the definition of quality.

Instead, they typically hope for the best, thank God each day that the natives are not too restless, put out the fires as they flare up, rely on the amorphous sense of creating “a good feeling,” and wait for the reviews to come in at contract-renewal time or when a congregant or two get particularly miffed. Or, perhaps even worse, they descend into a thesaurus of mushy comfort-words to describe the congregation (“family-oriented,” “warm,” “welcoming,” “heimish”) that only brings us full-circle back to “What do you mean by ‘warm’?”

I know that all this seems to be irresistibly leading to an argument for establishing quantifiable quality indicators for congregations and their rabbis – as you do for light bulbs and microchips. And, the counter-argument understandably responds that one cannot possibly quantify sublime, ethereal virtues like welcome, compassion, and pastoral skills.

So, no, I am not arguing against the importance of the individual and collective intuition that says, “I know ‘good’ when I see it.” I am, however, suggesting that each congregation can thoughtfully agree on a few – albeit not comprehensive or definitive – benchmarks (call them “symptoms,” if you wish) for how it will recognize “good” in itself and its rabbi once it has been achieved.

The precise benchmarks will vary from congregation to congregation, but I can imagine just a few examples. What do you mean by . . .

“Welcoming”? (1) designated greeters who welcome visitors/newcomers to services, introduce them to the rabbi and laypeople, make sure that they are not abandoned during Kiddush, and ascertain appropriate follow-up after Shabbat, (2) home visits (with wine, challah, etc.) to newcomers by rabbi and senior congregation official(s) within a week of their arrival, (3) contact of new members by chairs of key committees within a week of joining the congregation, soliciting the newcomers’ involvement.

“Compassionate”? (1) a funded mechanism for prompt charitable response to people in crisis in the congregation and community, (2) a hot-line for at-risk members of the congregation who require shopping, transportation, and other assistance, (3) a bikkur cholim group to regularly visit and provide support for sick and homebound members of the community.

“Pastoral Care”? (1) the rabbi is in contact with each hospitalized member daily and visits every other day, (2) the rabbi visits each homebound member at least once each month, (3) the congregation provides encouragement, time, and funding for the rabbi to keep his counseling skills sharp through continuing education.

As I say, just a few examples. No, they will never substitute for the sense of all’s-wellness that we feel when the congregation harmonizes so sweetly at “Tzur Yisrael,” or when the rabbi hits just the right point in his sermon. Nonetheless, they will enable us to come to some mutual understanding on a few of the signs of quality and give us a healthy alternative to, and perhaps a momentary respite from, contending and contentious blurry definitions of “good.”

The real challenge is in forcing ourselves to come up with a set of verifiable standards of expectation. That exercise, in and of itself, can be tremendously enlightening and provocative for congregation and rabbi alike. How will we know compassion, enthusiasm, a “good” religious school, heimishkeit, rabbinic excellence, when we see them? Take it from one who knows: Facing up to that question may be our only opportunity to clutch at the elusive straw of sanity.