Paul and his wife Rose (not their real names) used to come regularly to our synagogue (Birmingham Progressive) every Shabbat. They had been married for over 50 years, lived through difficult times and were devoted to each other.
As Rose developed dementia and then had a stroke, she became frailer and needed a wheelchair — but Paul would still bring her. At kiddush, everyone would come up to sit beside Rose and have a chat. It gave a Paul a much-needed break and they loved meeting their friends.
With the original lockdown, the shul closed and their visits came to an end. We started services on Zoom and formed a virtual community. But Paul and Rose didn’t have wi-fi so they couldn’t join.
For a while, this didn’t seem to matter too much. We all thought it would just be a few months. We kept in touch by phone and Paul had his garden to tend. But then it became clear that Covid wasn’t going to end as soon as we had thought.
Winter was coming and there was less escape into the garden. We found a tablet and persuaded Paul to use it. It took a few lessons and sometimes emergency help is needed to when there is a hitch. But Paul and Rose could again join our services and social activities and meet their friends online. It wasn’t the same as going out every week but at least they could feel part of a community again.
Others have found it hard in different ways and long to be back in the synagogue building. Watching services broadcast from the rabbi’s home is not the same for them. This is especially true for the member whose late husband had played a major part in planning our new building, so that it holds very special memories. For these members, seeing our ark again at the High Holy-Days, when we did broadcast services from our building, gave them a sense of spirituality which they had greatly missed.
When the option of reopening after the first lockdown arose, it was a difficult decision for us, along with other Liberal synagogues, not to reopen. We looked at the advice from the government and from the Birmingham director of public health and it became clear to our council that the benefits were outweighed by the risks.
It was especially hard as our local Orthodox synagogues did reopen. We explained to our members that those synagogues had to operate a booking system which still meant some congregants were excluded.
We could have had services with few people — but that would have excluded others. Those who did come would have to wear masks and be socially distanced. There could be no congregational singing and no gathering at kiddush, as we used to do to chat to Rose. We would return to our homes having had little social interaction, unlike our services on Zoom, when we can enjoy seeing each other’s faces and catch up on the week’s news.
I too miss meeting in the synagogue. I miss our building but much more I miss the handshakes and the hugs; the small, impromptu conversations that happen during kiddush and the congregation in front of me, joining in the prayers and being able to sing together. I long for the time when we can hear each other’s voices in unison and feel each other’s physical presence.
So we continue with our services on Zoom. We have formed an online community and we have helped many members to join us who, at the beginning of the Covid crisis, could never have imagined using the technology. We know that it is not the same as meeting in person and that some of our members choose not to join because it does not meet their needs or they do not wish to engage with technology on Shabbat.
We keep in touch with them by phone and offer them what support we can. Like so many other communities, we do what we can to bring people together while longing for the time when we can open our doors again without fear.
Rabbi Dr Margaret Jacobi is minister of Birmingham Progressive Synagogue