A synagogue in a prison!
A synagogue in a prison! I might as well say, “A Fiddler on the Roof!” It sounds crazy, but it’s true. Like me, you might have seen the recent news story about a synagogue discovered in an out-of-use prison in Philadelphia. Eastern State Penitentiary, opened in 1829 and closed in 1971, indeed housed a synagogue for use by as many as 80 Jewish prisoners out of a population of 1700 inmates.
The synagogue was discovered in the midst of a project to preserve the decaying prison, which has since been turned into a tourist attraction. Found among the ruins, and helping to identify the room as a synagogue were: faded stars of David on the doors, an empty ark where the Torah had been kept, and sheet music for Hanukkah songs.
The prison itself has been called an “architectural marvel” in that it had indoor plumbing and central heat before the White House did. Visitors now come by the thousands to view the empty cellblocks, and are especially drawn to a well-furnished cell which once housed Al Capone.
But it is the synagogue which draws my, and likely your, attention.
Our first thought might be to wonder why such a significant number of Jews ended up in prison. What’s probably a more interesting question is why Jewish people who are in prison tend to become more actively involved in their religion than they were on “the outside.”
Based on experiences shared with me, I have found this to be true. The same can be said for Jewish people in the armed forces, or who find themselves living in remote areas, with far smaller Jewish populations than many of us are used to. In situations of separation from family, or other feelings of isolation, it is typical for Judaism, or other religion, to take on a much more central role in one’s life.
So the existence of a prison synagogue, at first a source of puzzlement, makes perfect sense. When I was in Rabbinical School, I had the opportunity to accompany a rabbi on his weekly visits to a prison. I was quite impressed by the large turnout of Jewish inmates who attended the service, class and available private counseling offered by the rabbi. I was quite certain that these inmates would never attend a synagogue or interact with a rabbi if they were not in prison.
There seems to be a message in this story for all of us. If a Jewish person in prison chooses to maximize his/her religious practice, all the more so should we. What the Jewish prisoner probably has discovered is that attending the synagogue enables him/her to transcend one’s physical incarceration, and instead find a true spiritual existence in a community, and a deeper meaning in life. Isn’t that something we all need?
One other thought about prison and Judaism. The prison in Philadelphia, among many others, is known as a “penitentiary.” We often shorten this to “pen,” but in so doing, we misunderstand the meaning of the word. “Penitentiary” comes from the word “penitent,” which means “remorseful.” The theoretical goal of the prison system is therefore not to punish, but to evoke true penitence from those who have committed crimes. This sounds a lot like the Jewish concept of teshuvah/repentance, a major theme of the High Holidays, and year round. Our focus is not solely on what we have done wrong, but rather on how much better we can become.