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A and the other half prefers Person B — where does that leave you? This can be a really bad burnout job,” Weinstein said.

She knows the daily stresses as well as anyone, having been Temple Emanuel of Tempe’s executive director before taking the job at NATA. She often found herself turning to her NATA colleagues for ideas and support.

While NATA is officially tied to the Union for Reform Judaism (URJ), it is open to all denominations and its members range from small, one-person operations to huge synagogues with thousands of members.

In 2017, Weinstein attended NATA’s Institute, an intensive course offered every other year to a small cohort of members. It includes classes in human resources, synagogue management, budgeting and finance, governance, membership and marketing, as well as liturgy, ceremonies and holidays and a history of Reform Judaism.

This year’s Institute is Feb. 19-22 in Sandy Springs, Georgia, and will be the first since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic.

The Institute is always a small cohort of about 20 people, while the annual conference held each fall has a few hundred attendees, and is especially helpful for people new to the job.

Weinstein’s first NATA conference was the one she helped to plan in November. She realized how much she had missed by not attending when she was still at Temple Emanuel. She described the conference as a “magical” experience.

“If I had gone to a NATA conference when I first started and had made the connections I have now but while I was in the moment and had specific questions that needed answers or resources or mentors, it may have helped my longevity in the job,” she surmised.

Aliza Goland, David Lamden and Jack Feldman, all executive directors of synagogues and lay leaders of NATA, have two decades of experience in their profession and are well aware of the challenges. The relationships they’ve built with the help of NATA are a big part of the reason they’re still persevering in a job with a high rate of attrition.

“My job description is whatever doesn’t fall on anybody else’s desk,” Goland said of her position at Temple Aliyah in Woodland Hills, California. But it’s work she loves and “the job I’ll retire from,” she said.

Some of the day-to-day challenges are hard to understand for an outsider. Part of their work is to fix a broken dues model and find ways to lessen the financial burden of synagogue life for a younger generation of Jews. They are tasked with finding engaging programming to coax new members and keep existing ones. They have also spent an increasing amount of time dealing with security concerns.

“Suddenly, I was applying for Homeland Security grants and getting training for the sweet 80-year-old volunteer at the front desk, who has to learn to run, hide or fight,” Weinstein said.

Sometimes they have to navigate unbelievably dire moments.

Goland recounted a fateful week in November 2018, right as she was leaving for NATA’s annual conference in Austin. On Nov. 7, there was a mass shooting at Borderline Bar and Grill in Thousand Oaks. Thirteen people were killed, including the shooter, and 16 injured. The following day she got on a plane and by the time she landed, she learned that the shooting was not the only tragedy her city was dealing with.

The Woolsey Fire that would burn 96,949 acres — 9,000 near Thousand Oaks — had begun. She immediately made plans to return.

“What helped me in that moment was being with my colleagues, who gave me strength, resources and support. I was looking at pictures of Torahs being evacuated from our congregation amid smoke and flames — and the world turned upside down. But my colleagues were there for me.”

During the next three weeks, Goland had to manage her synagogue’s shutdown and move the preschool and religious school to another facility. Her colleagues helped her find fire mitigation and other essential resources.

“My colleagues gave me strength to live through that,” she said.

Lamden, executive director of

Congregation Emanuel in Houston, could relate.

When Hurricane Harvey hit the Houston area in 2017, Lamden was in Phoenix with family.

Lamden’s first job as executive director was at Temple Solel in Paradise Valley, where he worked from 2007-2013. His sister’s kitchen in Tempe became his command center because it had a working phone and internet. Colleagues he had met through NATA started coming out of the woodwork to offer financial assistance, he said.

“It is amazing when you realize that it’s more than you and your staff. Your team has a very deep bench because of all these colleagues you’ve built relationships with and they’re asking, ‘How can I help?’ and it’s not just words,” he said.

He had to check on every congregant to make sure they were OK and find out if they needed help. Because his building was in better shape than others in the city, he led efforts to help the Jewish community in Houston.

After spending countless hours on the phone, exhaustion set in, but he continued to get encouraging texts and calls from his cohorts across the country. The following year, he was able to help Goland in her time of need.

“It is unbelievable to know that you can feel like you’re in freefall and you have colleagues around the country who are there to catch you and hold you and legitimately help you in any way possible,” he said.

On the other hand, Feldman recounted a random day, one devoid of any heartpounding drama but still full of critical tasks to keeping his Temple Sinai in Atlanta, with 1,650 families and an operating budget of roughly $7 million, running smoothly.

His day started with an early meeting with his house committee to go over major purchases, such as replacing the rooftop air conditioning units before summer. Next, he met with the immediate past president to discuss the nominating committee. That was followed by lunch with the budget and finance committee, which is preparing to begin a project that will turn a part of the property into a long walking trail. In the evening, he had an endowment committee meeting. In between those larger meetings, he spoke with his associate director about security and a security grant process, in addition to meetings with the cemetery committee.

It was a long and exhausting day and the next one was completely different.

“We learn and we adapt and we rely on our colleagues,” he said. “‘David, how do you do this? What’s your magic? Oh, you’re doing it that way? Well, thank you. That’s a great suggestion.’”

He and his colleagues collaborate and sometimes they don’t agree. But when they face their most difficult challenges, they can call someone who’s met something similar.

“At the end of the day, you can’t work in a vacuum and be successful because your way may not be the best way or the only way. That’s the beauty of NATA.”

Peer-to-peer support is something that’s important to NATA’s leadership and Weinstein has been tasked with assisting regional groups to ensure that all NATA members can connect with a local group, as well as the national organization. She was once part of such a group of executive directors in Greater Phoenix who met weekly to troubleshoot, share resources and sometimes just let off steam.

Dunn was happy to have the assistance of the colleagues he’s met through NATA and in Greater Phoenix and he’ll keep in touch with many of them, he said.

“We’re all here for the same goal: to bring people together where they can practice their religion and we’re gonna give them that safe space to do it. I do this work because I think people need that.” JN

To learn more about the National Association for Temple Administration, visit natanet.org.