Local Rabbis Discuss Leading Their Congregations In Challenging Times

In the summer of 2019, Rabbi Daniel Geffen was invited to speak for the first time at the Union Chapel on Shelter Island. When he arrived at the historic interfaith church, founded in the 1800s, he noticed that the doors had all been flung open to take advantage of the weather on a warm and sunny day in late July.

He had arrived a good 20 minutes early, and so was by himself as he took in the sight of the church, with air freely filtering in and out of those open doors.

Before entering, he sat down on a small bench outside, and he started to cry.

Rabbi Geffen presides over the congregation at Temple Adas Israel in Sag Harbor, and he said earlier this week that it took him some time to understand what led to that outpouring of emotion more than two years ago.

“It was only later in the day that I realized my emotion was about the experience of seeing a house of worship open to the world,” he recalled, adding that there had not been any kind of security presence on the grounds. “It was everything I wanted for my temple and my people to experience, too — and yet I knew it simply could not be.”

The reason, of course, is clear to anyone who has followed the news in recent years. While Jewish people have had to deal with antisemitism for centuries, attacks on temples and synagogues have been on the rise in recent years, leading rabbis and other Jewish leaders to rethink their approach to security and how to be prepared to defend themselves in the event their synagogue is targeted.

The sobering reality — that training is not merely a precaution but, increasingly, feels like a necessity — was something local rabbis were dealing with in the aftermath of the shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh in 2018, which left 11 people dead. It was brought to the forefront, if it ever truly left, again earlier this month, when an armed stranger entered the Congregation Beth Israel synagogue in Colleyville, Texas, and held several people hostage for 11 hours. The rabbi, Charlie Cytron-Walker, was able to ultimately end the standoff when, calling upon training on that exact situation, he threw a chair at the captor and escaped with the three other hostages. Earlier, he had invited the man into the synagogue to warm up on a chilly Texas morning.

The shooting at the Tree of Life and the attack at Congregation Beth Israel are disturbing and tragic. They also have left rabbis grappling with a philosophical struggle that does not have any easy or clear answers: how to keep congregants safe while also maintaining the hallmarks of a faith that upholds the principle of inclusivity, warmth and openness to newcomers.

When it comes to discussing the details of how they’ve approached security, local rabbis are keeping it close to the vest, for obvious reasons. Divulging too many specifics about how they have ramped up security measures at their houses of worship could compromise safety.

But they all agree that it’s been undoubtedly necessary to beef up their safety protocols and procedures in the wake of the attacks at synagogues across the country in recent years, especially in a high-profile area like the Hamptons.

“I can’t comment on specifics, other than to say that we do have a great deal of security and protocols in place,” said Rabbi Josh Franklin of the Jewish Center of the Hamptons, located in East Hampton Village. “The Tree of Life massacre really prompted us to become much more security conscious than our previous protocols had already been.”

He said that while taking those steps has been necessary, it has been hard to square, at times, with the larger overall mission of the synagogue.

“We do have two competing values in mind when thinking about the synagogue and who enters,” he said. “One is, how do we be warm and welcoming to those who wish to join us? And the other is, how do we keep our congregation safe? Although I think we effectively exercise each one, I do think they are sometimes in tension with each other. Sometimes one has to take a backseat to the other, especially when there is a heightened need for security.

“But we are in the business of being a community that is warm and welcoming, and a place where people gather,” he added. “If we can’t do that, then we’re out of business.”

The considerations for Rabbi Marc Schneier, who leads the Hampton Synagogue in Westhampton Beach Village, have an added layer of complication because of his comparatively high profile within the Jewish world. Schneier’s Shabbat messages in early December were part of a nationwide telecast available to millions of homes on Comcast NBC, and he is widely known and respected both in the New York metropolitan area and internationally.

Rabbi Schneier said he felt the topic of balancing safety and inclusivity was a worthwhile one to explore, but said he had to tread carefully when it comes to freely expressing his thoughts publicly. In an email, he spoke more generally about the recent antisemitic attacks, looking at them in a larger historical context.

“At the Hampton Synagogue, one of America’s most high-profile houses of worship, the safety and security of our congregation is paramount,” he said. “Antisemitism is not a new phenomenon. Jewish history is a reminder that casual Jews become Jewish casualties. We must remain vigilant in the face of a recent uptick in antisemitic attacks.

“In this sad reality, the challenge for a congregational rabbi is to find the balance, the path, to narrow the gap between heightened security and maintaining a welcoming, open-door policy to all,” he added.

For many rabbis, part of the path forward has been taking on roles they never thought they’d have. Changing locks, installing cameras and even hiring private security firms are all measures that many houses of worship have taken, including Temple Adas Israel in Sag Harbor and the Jewish Center of the Hamptons.

Both Rabbi Franklin and Rabbi Geffen said they have undergone training similar to what Rabbi Cytron-Walker did, with local law enforcement. In a New York Times article, Rabbi Cytron-Walker said he had taken part in at least four separate trainings in recent years, from the Colleyville Police Department, the FBI, the Anti-Defamation League and the Secure Community Network, a nonprofit group that provides security resources to Jewish institutions nationally.

The sessions taught him that “if you get in this situation, you have to do whatever you can,” he said in the article, adding the training gave him “the courage and the sensibility to act when we were able.”

While none of the local rabbis has had to call on that training in that kind of crisis, Rabbi Geffen said he does not have a hard time imagining being in the situation Rabbi Cytron-Walker found himself in — and that’s likely a sentiment many other rabbis would express, precisely because of their faith.

“Personally, I am the kind of person and rabbi who likely would have done exactly as Rabbi Cytron-Walker did last week and welcomed the stranger in,” he said. “It’s not just who I am personally, it’s what the Torah commands us to do as well. Welcoming people into our synagogue is what we do best, so it is indeed a great challenge to find the right balance.”

“It truly breaks my heart to think that the first thing a person sees when they come to temple is a guard, albeit a lovely and friendly one, with a gun on his hip,” he added. “But at the same time, I know it is necessary and prudent.”

The complicated mix of emotions rabbis grapple with as they lead their congregations in the modern era are not likely to go away any time soon. Rabbi Franklin admits to feeling “a sense of sadness” that the need for increased security and vigilance sometimes takes the focus away from “what makes Judaism Judaism,” he said.

“Judaism incorporates a lot of ideas and components, history, theology, language, culture, prayer,” he said. “Security should not be one of those things. We shouldn’t have to expect rabbis to be security experts and be able to diffuse a hostage situation. Our rabbis should be focusing on the work of being spiritual leaders in the community, but just existing in the world today does mandate that we have an understanding of how to keep the community safe.”

When trying to manage those emotions and make sense of it all — while also figuring out how to set an example for the rest of the congregation — becomes overwhelming, Rabbi Geffen says he does what any faith leader would implore congregants to do in a time of crisis.

“I know it may sound trite, but for me, when I am faced with a challenging situation, I return to the Torah and to the thousands of years of Jewish wisdom passed to us by the rabbis and leaders of our past,” he said. “I am constantly amazed with how often the words of our sages and our sacred scriptures speak to contemporary moments just like this.”

He said he also has not given up hope that a time will come when he, too, can throw open the doors of the house of worship he leads on a sunny day, although thinking about that can be bittersweet.

“I know the reality, but that doesn’t stop me from dreaming the big dreams,” he said. “And sometimes that gap between the two can be heartrending.”