Another Type of Synagogue

 

We have been doing “Jewish Journeys” for over twenty years. During that time, I have only been on a fraction of what has been on offer, preferring to explore only the Eastern European locations of my forebears rather than those with Sephardi Jewish roots.

I have visited many a site of a former shul (synagogue) – each with its own backdrop, its own back story, its own cultural nuances and its own descent into either disrepair or rebirth as a completely new concept. Like a phoenix – but not quite. The phoenix rises from the ashes to replace the one that has been burned. These synagogues will never rise from the proverbial ashes as synagogues because there is no-one to attend them, no community to celebrate in them; no families to mourn in them.

Synagogues all over Eastern Europe have rebirthed to become all sorts of things. The former synagogue of my oupa’s (grandfather) shtetl is a modern library with a plaque commemorating the members of the Geffen family known to have been killed in the Holocaust. We have seen gyms and community halls whose current users have no idea of the building’s heritage, and a variety of other uses.

Many synagogues fell into a state of dilapidation. Often, in a remote village in the middle of nowhere a large building will stand, locked up and slowly crumbling. There will be a keyholder, a righteous gentile who feels the responsibility of preserving the memory of the community who his grandparents allowed to perish. He or she allows entry to the occasional visitor from the west exploring their roots. Entering these buildings is often inspirational, and always redolent of a forgotten time. Opulent décor, fascinating architecture, and the ghosts of those who once worshipped there.

One memorable synagogue we visited in Poland some years ago had the entire Siddur (prayer book) inscribed around the walls. No decoration, no inviting colours, or designs; just walls completely covered in Hebrew writing. This is a fascinating sociological insight into the community who prayed there. It speaks of poverty, of there being not enough in the budget to acquire prayer books, of the uniformity of the congregation who will always be “singing from the same hymn sheet.”

Tranzit Hause in Cluj

The former Poale Tzedek synagogue in Cluj Napoca, now Tranzit Hause is one of the Phoenixes – arisen from the post WWII neglect to become a cultural haven. In it they stage exhibitions, drama productions, musical presentations, and more.

It was built on the banks of the River Someș to serve the local industrial workers and middle classes.

View of the River Somes from the window of Tranzit Hause

We sit in a circle in an open hall, listening to all the events and happenings in this place while admiring our surroundings. This is not a Jewish centre any longer. However, one of the directors, as if to excuse the fact that this once place of worship is now a haven for the arts, tells us that he is the only Jewish element. It turns out that his paternal grandfather was Jewish - so, in the eyes of the Jewish law, not Jewish at all.

 

This is the story of the Jewish population of places like Cluj. Most of the Jews were deported, the majority of whom perished. Those who returned did so to a meaningless life where there were few familiar faces or family members. Many survivors emigrated, and those who stayed ended up marrying outside of the Jewish faith. While many cling to that tenuous Jewish identity, in reality, it is many times diluted.

Where the ark once stood is a beautiful artwork depicting a curtained sky and the inscription,

 "שויתי ה' לנגדי תמיד" ("I have placed the Lord before me constantly") psalm 16:8

 

The ornate ceiling fresco contains a quote from the Talmud, (Pirkei Avot 5:20)

Judah ben Tema said, Be strong as a leopard, and swift as an eagle, and fleet as a gazelle, and brave as a lion, to do the will of your Father who is in heaven.

יְהוּדָה בֶן תֵּימָא אוֹמֵר, הֱוֵי עַז כַּנָּמֵר, וְקַל כַּנֶּשֶׁר, וְרָץ כַּצְּבִי, וְגִבּוֹר כָּאֲרִי, לַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹן אָבִיךָ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמָיִם

 

We gaze upwards and notice the vestige of the women’s gallery, blocked off with windows to make a workspace upstairs.

 

 

 

 

We sing “Gesher Tzar” together.

"The whole world is a very narrow bridge, but the main thing to recall is to have no fear, have no fear at all."

כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלוֹ גֶשֶׁר צַר מְּאֹד וְהָעִיקָר לֹא לְפַחֵד כְּלַל

One wonders what kind of fear the people of this congregation will have endured when they were deported from here.

We venture upstairs to witness a veritable abundance of artistic projects in the making and on display. The scale and scope of the artistic endeavours is truly amazing. There are work spaces of every kind with projects in development and several on display. In many respects, it feels good to see that there is once more a vibrancy about this once active Jewish community hub.