Rabbi Roundtable: Feb. 15, 2026

In partnership with the Atlanta Rabbinical Association, the AJT’s monthly Rabbi Roundtable brings together rabbis from across Atlanta representing each denomination.

For this month’s discussion, each rabbi was asked the following question:

“As more Jewish engagement happens outside synagogue walls, how should rabbis think about the relationship between sacred space and civic space?”

Rabbi Ron Segal

The topic of congregational life beyond the walls of the synagogue is one we have focused on for more than a decade. An extensive strategic vision and 10-year plan launched in 2015 included this statement as one of its five goals: “In 2025, Temple Sinai is an integral and relevant part of our lives, both within and beyond the walls of the synagogue.” Guided by this directive, we created in-home learning initiatives for adults and Hebrew chavurot for youth, periodic neighborhood-based Shabbat services and Torah study, off-site social gatherings and events targeting different demographics and constituent groups (e.g. Sinai Brotherhood), and countless other efforts, all aimed at strengthening the connections between our members and their synagogue and bringing Temple Sinai life – both the sacred and the “civic” — into people’s homes and lives wherever they might be. As teachers of Torah, I believe rabbis should appreciate that one enduring responsibility is to strengthen the Jewish people and world by bringing members of our community close, whether within or beyond the walls of our synagogues.
Looking at the question through a slightly different lens, though, I confess I found the prompt to be somewhat problematic, as it posits the false binary that sacred space is found within the walls of the synagogue while “civic” (understood for this reflection as non-sacred) space is what exists outside of the synagogue. Any AJT readers involved in a congregation will readily affirm that synagogues (of every denomination) host social gatherings, programs, meetings and other events that do not rise to the level of “sacred.” Conversely, any readers who have experienced and been spiritually stirred by the majesty of nature surely appreciate that sacred space is neither defined nor limited by geography. The sacred potential of every location is ultimately determined by the level of intention, or kavanah, one brings to it.
As a congregational rabbi, I certainly believe strongly in the central and necessary role of the synagogue in preserving Jewish life, and I appreciate each day the efforts of Sinai’s leadership to fashion a building and campus that naturally contribute to sacred and memorable moments in the lives of our community. However, I understand with an equal degree of certainty that the ongoing vitality of our congregation relies on our readiness to discover, learn from, and nurture opportunities — both sacred and civic — beyond Dupree Drive.

Rabbi Keilah Lebell

As a young teen, I went through a fairly stereotypical rejection of organized religion in general and Judaism in particular. What ultimately brought me back was the realization that Judaism is not anchored to a particular building, but is a portable home we carry with us. Jewish life happens in individual and communal practice, wherever we happen to be.
Historically, Jews have congregated in whatever spaces were available. Indeed, the Talmud teaches that G-d’s presence dwells wherever Jews gather to pray, learn, or pursue justice (Berakhot 6a). Seen in that light, today’s landscape feels familiar, not alarming. While I wish more Jews today could experience the synagogue as a home for connection, inspiration, and action, I don’t feel threatened by the fact that much Jewish life is flourishing beyond synagogue walls.
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel warned that religion was declining not because it was being refuted, but because it was becoming “irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid.” Our work as rabbis is not to lament empty buildings, but to meet people where they are, sharing our passion for Judaism, and helping Jews experience Judaism as “a living fountain” rather than a cold museum. This means bringing sacred practice outward when possible and ensuring that what happens inside our institutions is welcoming, authentic, and alive.
Even amid grief, polarization, and rising antisemitism, I find this moment brimming with possibility. We Jews have always known how to make ordinary spaces sacred. Our task is to help Jews experience holiness wherever they gather.
A final word to my fellow rabbis: this work is hard. Many of us are exhausted and grieving. I hope you can take time to re-root in what you love about Judaism. Rest and renewal are not indulgent, but essential for you and the Jewish community.

Rabbi Michael Broyde

Jewish life has never happened in just one place. Some of my most meaningful Jewish moments have taken place in a synagogue: standing together in prayer, marking sacred time, sharing words that Jews have said for centuries. There is something irreplaceable about a synagogue as a space set aside for tefillah. Prayer asks us to slow down, to show up regularly, and to place ourselves — physically and spiritually — in a setting designed for that purpose. While Jewish tradition permits prayer almost anywhere, it also understands that sustained communal prayer thrives best in a place intentionally devoted to it. The synagogue is not sacred simply because of its walls, but because of what we consistently do inside them.
At the same time, many of the most vibrant expressions of Jewish life today are happening well beyond synagogue doors and that has always been true. Jewish learning unfolds in coffee shops and living rooms. Jewish values are lived out in volunteer work, public conversations, cultural events, and civic engagement. This is not a departure from tradition; it is very much part of it. For most of Jewish history, Torah was learned wherever people gathered, and Jewish identity was shaped in the public square as much as in formal religious spaces.
Rather than worrying that Jewish engagement outside synagogues weakens Jewish life, we might see it as a sign of health. Judaism was never meant to be contained. The synagogue should remain the anchor for prayer, grounding us in ritual and rhythm. Civic and public spaces, meanwhile, allow Judaism to breathe — to educate, to inspire, and to contribute to the broader society.
When sacred space and civic space are each honored for what they do best, Jewish life becomes not smaller, but fuller — and far more alive.

About the Rabbis:

Rabbi Ron Segal, Reform
Rabbi Ron Segal is a Senior Rabbi at Temple Sinai in Sandy Springs, a community he has served since July 1996 upon ordination from Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. He is an active participant in the Atlanta Rabbinical Association as well as in the Sandy Springs Interfaith Clergy Association, an organization he proudly co-founded. Locally, his prior board leadership includes the American Jewish Committee, Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta, The Davis Academy, and Holy Innocents Episcopal School, among other agencies.

Rabbi Keilah Lebell, Hadar
Rabbi Keilah Lebell is the director of Project Zug at the Hadar Institute and has previously served as Assistant Rabbi and Jewish Emergent Network Rabbinic Fellow at IKAR in Los Angeles. She holds rabbinic ordination from the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies, studied Hebrew intensively at Middlebury College and Hebrew University, and earned her bachelor’s from St. John’s College, Santa Fe. She lives in Chattanooga, Tenn., with her husband, Rabbi Sam Rotenberg, and their three children.

Rabbi Michael Broyde, Orthodox
Michael Broyde was the Founding Rabbi of Young Israel of Toco Hills which he served for nearly 15 years, after receiving ordination as a rabbi by Yeshiva University. He received a juris doctor from New York University and is now a law professor at Emory University, the director of the SJD Program, and Berman Projects Director at the Center for the Study of Law and Religion at Emory University. He is also a core faculty member at the Tam Institute of Jewish Studies at Emory.