When liberal rabbis in Germany were expected to obtain a general education in addition to their Jewish studies, some Orthodox opponents would say that when rabbis became doctors, Judaism became sick. They feared that secular education would take precious time away from Torah study.
They may have been quite unrealistic, but perhaps not entirely wrong. Nowadays, when rabbis (other than haredi ones) have a secular education, they’re expected to spend a lot of time away from their Jewish studies. Thus, for example, if you call a rabbi only to be told that she or he can’t come to the phone because she or he is engaged in the study of a particularly difficult Talmud passage, you’re likely to be incensed at the lack of pastoral care. But if you’re told that she or he is in a committee meeting, you’ll feel reassured that the person is doing good work.
That’s behind my reservations about a program in management education for rabbis and synagogue administrators that I recently read about in this paper. The purpose, as I understand it, is to better equip “clergy” to manage shul business.
Priests in their clergy roles are often expected to be responsible for the general management of their churches. Rabbis, on the other hand, are teachers. After mastering the Torah of balance sheets and fundraising techniques, will they still have the time and the inclination to study and teach Torah?
Of course, rabbis shouldn’t be kept out of synagogue management. Yet I’m worried about the kind of Judaism that may emerge as a result of the ever-growing emphasis on the business aspect. I firmly believe that a rabbi’s greatest contribution to Jewish life is to study and articulate Judaism, not dabble in management.
The pressure to learn about administration reflects the current trend to turn teachers into fundraisers. Every head of a university department will tell you about it. As things are now, many synagogues of all stripes – especially in the United States, but by no means only there – judge their spiritual leaders by their worldly achievements. Jews rarely brag about the erudition of their rabbis. They’re more likely to tell you about how much money they’ve raised for the new building.
Major contributors usually expect special concessions. Will the management courses also teach how to minister to the rich? And what will this do to the other congregants?
In the current financial meltdown, synagogues, like other institutions, are in such dire straits that cutting corners to obtain funds is understandable, and at times perhaps even justified. Nevertheless, there’s a lingering suspicion that when rabbis become fundraisers, Judaism goes bankrupt.