The US Army calls it E-15, because it begins with the letter E and has 15 more letters. Eyjafjallajökull - Ey-yaf-yat-la-yo-kytl – a word and volcano that the whole world learned about over the past week. Most of us are still not able to pronounce the name of the Icelandic "island-mountain glacier" that grounded thousands of flights and froze international air travel.

However, apart from the news this week that there are no longer any atheists in insurance companies – as they all now believe firmly in acts of God – this billowing cloud of ash has also caused many people to think seriously about their priorities in life. Many had their plans disrupted as they were left stranded in remote locations around the globe. Those in good health compelled to remain a few more days in holiday resorts probably were OK, but others needed urgent medicines, missed family gatherings or could not attend important business conferences.  For them, this volcanic ash and flight ban was a disaster.

Kedoshim begins with the words "The Eternal spoke to Moshe saying: Speak to the entire assembly of the Children of Israel (kol adat bnei Yisrael) and say to them: ‘Qedoshim tehiyyu - You shall be holy...'" [Vayikra 19:1-2]. One aspect of holiness is perushim tehiyyu, you shall be separate/different from others. The people stranded were, in many ways, marked off and separated from their previous plans. In the course of dealing with these challenges, some people began to think about what was really important in their lives, what they truly needed and what they merely wanted.

Rashi, our friend and teacher, points to another aspect of holiness. He notes that the uncommon usage of the phrase "the entire assembly of the Children of Israel" in what is a standard formula “teaches us that this mitzvah was specifically given in the presence of the entire assembly of Israel (b'hakhel).. In the midst of the trouble and travail caused by the volcano, many also found a sense of community. People shared their food, seats, rooms, personal histories, and much more. Holiness is not only distinctiveness. It also means to be part of a community

According to this parashah, how do we go about being holy? By observing Shabbat, kashrut and other sacred rituals, by giving to the poor and reaching out to the needy, and by studying and learning more about what we are called upon, commanded, to do. Why? The point of it all is articulated in this reading: to learn to love our neighbours as ourselves. Why come to Shabbat services? To be inspired to do more, to be more, and to care for others. Why did we just observe Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron? To remember those who sacrificed their lives for us and encourage us to honour their memory. The synagogue is more than just a sharing of activities and programs, it is a place where we join together to reach a higher sense of community, one that transcends time and place.

With that in mind, I want to share with you some letters that I received this week. They touch on a different sense of community, synagogue membership. One was from a colleague – it led to other rabbinic comment. The other letter was addressed directly to me. In a sense, these letters are examples of a long-dormant volcano stirring. This correspondence raises the question of what constitutes being part of a community.

Last week on my day off I was awakened by a congregant calling me about a man who was on his deathbed at the local hospital. I was told he had about an hour to live… I [went] to hospital, [spent time with] him and a few of his friends, etc. and recited Vidui on his behalf. A week passes and he does too. I was asked to conduct a “memorial service” for him before he’s sent back to Wyoming for his burial. I agreed to do so. Then the request came to send out our “Hamakom Yenachem” e-mail that goes out to every member [to announce a death]. 

Here’s the scoop on this guy. He has come to Shul every Shabbat for as long as I’ve been here (almost 7 years), and probably longer. He lived in a VERY nice large house, but never joined or supported our synagogue. I had spoken to him about the possibility of joining but he’d never hear of it. He was a member back in Wyoming where he came from. He lived and died unaffiliated with our congregation and unsupportive monetarily although he clearly had the means to help  … I went to see him on his deathbed. I’ll be doing this memorial service for him… but I bristle at the notion of giving him the Kavod that we would give our members when one passes away.

[In our city] … the actual synagogue affiliation [rate] is … 15 to 17 per cent. There are enough people like this who avail themselves of the services of congregations and their rabbis, but fail to affiliate. I have had the occasion to speak to several of these people in recent years and it’s crystal clear that they don’t feel any obligation to support synagogues or their programs.

I’m really conflicted about this. I want to serve everyone that I can. But I know that if I made every hospital visit for non-members that I was called for, and sought out non-member funerals, I’d never be in the office or tending to my full time job for my congregation. When I was in communities where almost all Jews were affiliated and the non-affiliated pastoral request was the exception, I just viewed it as part of my job. But when the standard is lack of affiliation, I’m conflicted as to where to draw the line. I really love being a rabbi, but there are days that are trying.

Note what this rabbi has already done. He is balking at the distribution of an e-mail notice because of what it symbolically means. Another colleague pointed out that

In the case of the fellow who religiously refused to become a member, you have seen your own congregation treating him as a part of the congregation’s community. We all have such people in the community of our congregations. The congregation has made a choice in this matter—it welcomed him into the shul every Shabbat without insisting that if he wishes to continue as part of the community he needs to formally make that commitment. Please note that the issue is not whether or not he had the money; it is the question of commitment.

If your congregation has decided that he is welcome for that length of time without a formal commitment to belonging, it is clear that they considered his regular attendance to be that commitment. Thus you were notified of his imminent passing by a congregant—not by a chaplain or administrator at the hospital. And it would follow that it would be appropriate to send out the notice to the congregation….

The more difficult matter is the question of what your relationship should be to the multitudes of non-affiliated Jews who do not attend your synagogue at all. Here we deal with the question of what is our obligation to non-members. Do we treat it all as outreach? Do we treat it as Hesed? Do we treat it as an expectation of us in our employment at our synagogues? …As a compassionate rabbi, [you] will always feel conflicted, no matter what the policies are, and because your congregational leaders will always want to see this as outreach to the community and as Hesed to Jews in a time of need. Yet it is important for you and your leaders to be compassionate to yourselves as well. You cannot do it all for everyone.

That is part of the challenge. We want to be a compassionate community. Consider the upcoming Mitzvah Day we are planning for May 2. We want to do acts of holiness and hesed - in most cases for those not at all connected to our congregation.

We recognize the challenge that we can’t provide all the services that we want without real tzedakah from our own members and others. A few years ago, I asked a colleague to visit one of our members who was in hospital in Florida. He did so. After his visit, he told me that this person regularly attended services at his shul during the winter months, but had not taken out what they call a snowbird membership. My friend asked me to remind those who sojourn in warmer climes in winter that his synagogue has to pay for air conditioning, kiddush and more throughout the year.

We do provide services to non-members: people who are exploring conversion to Judaism get a lot of individualized attention. We help with funerals and shivah minyanim for non-members whose children are affiliated. We invite new parents to name their children on weekday or Shabbat afternoon services in the Chapel. Non-members can access our excellent Congregational school. Our rabbis teach in various locations throughout the community and non-members are welcome at our lectures and classes. We will help non-members with weddings- particularly when they are in our own synagogue. One does not have to be affiliated to attend daily minyan, to recite kaddish, or to worship with us on Shabbat or Yom Tov.

 One colleague observed: “We have … a modified membership model, where membership is expected but, except for services like Bar Mitzvah, it is not required. All of us do funerals for non members. All of our congregations rent out their facilities for weddings of non members. Think about the impact if all the denominations who use the membership model, strictly adhered to it; no weddings, no funerals, no admittance to minyan for Yahrzeit….We need to do away with the model completely and look at a different way.”

The membership model of community grew out of the European idea that one paid a tax to be part of the community. That is still the formal model in many European countries. Last year at the Kellogg School some rabbis and I discussed a model of affiliation based on participation and free-will donations, rather than on membership. We recognize that most Chabad centres operate on the basis of free-will donations, but none of us felt that this would work for what we would call “full service” congregations. You should know that churches, which historically worked on the basis of free will contributions, are increasingly looking at the model of annual gifts so that they can plan their budgets better.

Here is the letter that I received this week:

Rabbi, We are planning my son's bar mitzvah on a Saturday night for a twillight service in 2011. We will be having it at a venue in the city, but will not be having the service in a synagogue. We are looking for a rabbi that can perform the service for us. While we do not belong to Beth Tzedec, we feel most connected to you given that you married myself and my husband 15 yrs ago, as well as my sister. We also saw you recently at our daughter's baby naming at Beth Tzedec. I hope you do not mind me asking whether you might consider performing a service for us that is not in Beth Tzedec?  If this is something you are unable to do, I wonder whether you may know someone who would consider it. Thank you so much for you time. I very much appreciate it. All the best.

This is a pleasant request from a person who developed a connection to me through three different life-cycle simchas. Consider this polite inquiry unconnected from the question of synagogue standards (the topic of another sermon, another day), separate from the issue of Shabbat afternoon bnei mitzvah when everyone comes dressed for the Saturday night blow-out reception, and independent of the likelihood that this reception would be not kosher.

This is what I wrote to the mother:

Dear Miriam, Mazal tov on the occasion of your son reaching the age of mitzvot. I can't believe that you have been married for a decade and a half!! Amazing! If I recall correctly, your sister married just a few years after you. I don't officiate at out-of-synagogue bnai mitzvah, as I believe that it is really important for young people to have a shul connection. I suggest that you be in contact with the Toronto Board of Rabbis to inquire whether any affiliated rabbi is available for this type of independent event. A heads-up: I would question the authenticity of non-TBR rabbis.

A deeper question: if you connect with a synagogue for marriage and baby naming, why not consider affiliating with a congregation to create a connection for your son? I am not specifically referring to Beth Tzedec (although I think we do a fine job of education), but to the idea of being part of a community. If you and others who benefit from synagogue life don't support it through ongoing affiliation, how will synagogues maintain themselves to be present for people at life's peak events and other important and seemingly not so important moments?

So allow me to leave you with these volcanic questions: What should my colleague do? What makes a person part of the community? Attendance and participation? Payment of membership contributions, even if one only occasionally attends shul? Was my response correct? Should we provide support for non-members? some services? Nothing?  Should synagogues require membership contributions? What makes a community worthy of the name kehillah kedosha, a holy community? Can we here authentically claim to be one? “Speak to the entire congregation of Israel: You shall be holy because I the Eternal am holy.”