We’ve all heard the joke: A sole Jewish resident of a village builds two synagogues. Naturally he’s asked: Why two? You’re the only Jew. That one there, he replies, is where I pray. The other, pointing to the far block, is the one I won’t step in to.
We’re also all familiar with the adage, “It’s funny because it’s true.” Sadly in Denver this joke rings all too true.
A few weeks ago a unity minyan was held on the east side of town, bringing together members of various Orthodox synagogues and minyanim. The concept is great, especially as there were participants from shuls across town, logisitically too far to walk. But a larger question must be asked: Why does a 1-mile neighborhood require a unity minyan? Why are there so many disparate groupings? Why can’t more of us pray together on a regular basis.
We’re not knocking diversity, and we understand that different minyanim may satisfy various needs or ideologies. But let’s not forget that we’re talking about all Orthodox minyanim. In a community the size of Denver’s, in a maximum two mile radius, do we really need to ferret into so many small individual groupings? Could we not all bring our something different to one table, under one umbrella?
Make no mistake; we commend the organizers for holding the minyan and showing us that perhaps it’s not impossible to imagine different people praying together. If only more people could make this effort on a regular basis, perhaps unity instead of difference could define Denver’s Orthodox community. Perhaps the need for a unity minyan wouldn’t even exist.
