Andrew Guckes | Staff Writer
The year was 1958 and Susan Dorfman’s family had just bought a house in Warrington, Pennsylvania. The Dorfmans were driving around the neighborhood, looking to get acquainted with the area, when they saw a sign for a picnic. They followed the directions and ended up at the Cohen family house. The Cohens were members of a Conservative synagogue called Tiferes B’nai Israel. In fact, Harry Cohen began TBI in 1924 with a Torah scroll he brought from his homeland of Russia after traveling all the way to Pennsylvania. It just so happened that the Dorfmans were looking for a synagogue. The rest is history.
“We joined the synagogue, and that’s the synagogue we have been at ever since,” Susan said.
More than six decades after the Cohen’s picnic, Dorfman is serving as both co-president of the congregation and cantorial soloist. Filling in multiple roles is nothing new around TBI. The Tiferes B’nai Israel community is a small one, with just 45 member families, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Just like many synagogues, much of the congregation is aging. Many have been there for a good bit of TBI’s rich hundred-year history. However, what sets TBI apart is that it is not as worried about demographic changes because its religious school programs are thriving, Dorfman explained.
“A lot of our members are getting older, but we feel that we can keep the school going and keep the kids engaged, and if we can keep growing the school, that would be the future for us,” she said.
It might be a surprise to hear that a synagogue’s strategy relies on young people’s enthusiasm for Talmudic studies, but for TBI, there is an additional factor to consider: Its teacher is a star.
“The kids love [School Director] Shelly [Shotel],” Dorfman said.
Shotel has more than two decades of experience in Jewish education, which includes stints at both Temple Sinai in Dresher and Gratz College. She has been at TBI in Warrington since 2022. Her passion for Jewish education has brought more life to the congregation.
“The Hebrew school is the heart of the synagogue,” Dorfman said.
Despite being small and steeped in tradition, Tiferes B’nai Israel is not afraid to try something new in the face of a big risk. Case in point: Not long after the COVID-19 pandemic, TBI did away with mandatory dues. Instead, members pay whatever they see fit.
“We did that because we didn’t want anyone not to come into the synagogue and not belong because they couldn’t afford it. We also have scholarships for school and we will always work with people in a [tough] financial situation,” Dorfman said. “[Instead of dues], we periodically send out a letter letting people know where they stand with things last year and reminders that our dues are voluntary. I think it’s brought a comfort level to some people that you know wouldn’t otherwise belong to a synagogue.”
Part of the benefit of being led by someone who has been around for the last 60 years of operations is that TBI is always being guided with an understanding of the greater context. In fact, that doesn’t just apply to Tiferes B’nai Israel. Dorfman is keenly aware of the shifts in Judaism as a whole since her family joined.
“We’ve all talked about how things have changed. Back 30, 40 or 50 years ago, going to Hebrew school and services was a priority in life, and now it’s just not,” she said. “We, just as many other synagogues and churches, have a challenge, and so we’re doing different things.”
For example, TBI tried out a new model of Friday night service, with one-part traditional worship and one-part discussion and Torah study. Other weeks, they have made increased efforts to have young members involved, as they have found that this keeps them more invested in worship.
One sign of the progress that Tiferes B’nai Israel has made can be found in an anecdote from Dorfman’s own life. Because TBI was strictly conservative when Dorfman was growing up, she was not allowed to have a bat mitzvah. Then, in 2001, the rabbi came to her and asked if she wanted to have an adult ceremony. She was overjoyed — not just to become a bat mitzvah, but to do it in the place she has called home for more than six decades.
“It’s been 100 years, and our hope and dream is that, 100 years from now, there will still be the mishpacha feeling,” Dorfman said. “A synagogue doesn’t have to be big. It just has to mean something to people, and I think we do.”
