Pandemic holidays leave Jews longing for community

JONATHAN S. TOBIN

It was a year ago that everyone’s lives changed. It was on the eve of Purim that the first lockdowns were declared in some parts of the United States. Up until the weeks before the festival, the coronavirus pandemic was more of a theoretical threat than anything else to most people. It was exactly in the days before the Jewish holiday most associated with festivities — costumes, shpiels, parades and hamantaschen — that the reality had begun to set in. It promptly led to a round of cancellations of Purim events, as well as Megillah readings and services. Though few of us knew it at the time, the pattern of our lives for the next 12 months had been set.

With the holiday coming round again last week, that means that we have now gone through the entire cycle of the Jewish year with the COVID threat hanging over us. As such, it’s the first year not just in memory, but in recorded history, in which all the festivals and observances that mark the Jewish calendar will have been observed in the weary way members of the tribe have gotten used to. Except for pandemic scofflaws, mass gatherings for holidays, as well as simchas of all kinds and in-person community activities, have been out. Social distancing is in, as is — at least for the non-Orthodox —

“attending” services or other programs via Zoom or watching them passively on Facebook and YouTube.

Even with vaccinations starting to provide some hope of safety and a return to normalcy — something that is more of a possibility in Israel with its successful mass vaccination program as opposed to the haphazard and often dismal rollout store for us in the coming months. the new environment. Though some were slower to adapt than others, as we begin the second year of this strange life, most synagogues and organizations have adjusted to the brave new world of the coronavirus fairly well. Religious events of all kinds have been experienced by looking at a computer rather than in the flesh. Those groups that have stuck to more in-person gatherings than others have also adapted with social distancing and outdoor events the rule rather than the much-publicized violations of regulations. of the vaccine in the United States — we’re not there yet. Indeed, with fear of the virus still deeply embedded in our collective consciousness and with authorities sending mixed signals on just how soon we can expect something close to pre-pandemic life becoming a reality, more socially-distanced or remotely observed holidays is probably what’s in

We won’t be able to understand what the long-term impact of this radical shift in Jewish communal life will be for years. The elderly, who have been the primary prey of the disease, have likely been so thoroughly frightened by the threat of catching the illness that many of them may never emerge from their isolation.

Indeed, it may be that many religious and communal groups have adapted so well — and used the remote model to actually expand rather than to curtail their activities — that they may largely stick to the current practice rather than rushing to resume meeting the old way. Zoom can’t be the future of Jewish life, but philanthropic and advocacy groups have realized that you can actually reach more people with online programming than by staging expensive live events.

Children will also be deeply affected by this experience and carry a certain fear and wariness that has been instilled in them for the rest of their lives. The damage done to their development and education by the loss of in-person schooling will also linger.

But the remarkable thing about this year of “COVID Judaism” is how well Jewish institutions have coped with

This ability to change with changing times speaks well for a Jewish world that a year ago was in a panic about how to survive the first of the lockdowns, which were only supposed to last a few weeks in order to “bend the curve” of the outbreak and ensure that hospitals