When Rabbi David Wolkenfeld joined Ohev Sholom Congregation in the summer of 2023, he oversaw a “small but reliable” minyan every morning and evening. Ten to 15 members — plus travelers and members of neighboring synagogues that might not have a daily minyan — would show up every gathering.
That all changed with the Trump administration’s January return-to-office mandate for federal employees.
“We lost at least two men who came [to daily minyan] fairly regularly due to the back-to-work order,” Wolkenfeld said. “Three came very frequently and another three came somewhat less regularly, but frequently, and are almost never available anymore. Another three to four are able to come much less frequently now.”
Some members who work in federal roles have been able to adjust their schedules to attend the 7 a.m. minyan before starting the work day. Some middle school students have also been able to attend the morning and evening minyans.
“We’ve managed to continue, but it’s definitely been a headwind to push against,” Wolkenfeld said.
Despite some attendance challenges, Wolkenfeld has persevered in his efforts to keep the twice-daily minyan alive.
“We’ve tried to make the experience pleasant and always teach a little bit of Torah and try to encourage a little bit of schmoozing time before and after,” he said.
As a rabbi working in Chicago before relocating to the nation’s capital, Wolkenfeld is accustomed to a larger demographic of retirees who can not only attend minyan, but stay after to sip on coffee, eat cookies and socialize. The Ohev Sholom community, in contrast, is younger, made up of predominantly married families with children living in the house.
These members often work long hours on top of shuttling kids back and forth to school, sports games and extracurriculars. They may also be caring for aging parents as well as tending to the children, which consumes much of their time.
“All of those things take people away from the ability to come each morning and evening to the shul,” Wolkenfeld said.
For some, the tradition is an integral aspect of Jewish life.
“I think the opportunity to start and end the day with prayer, reflection and connection to God is really powerful,” Wolkenfeld said. “One of the things that Judaism teaches is that there is an important element of a balanced life: to work and help our families and communities. But prayer is also a foundation of a well-working life.”
He said community prayer in the sanctuary can be more impactful than praying alone and that it “enhances spiritual growth to carve out time each day for prayer.”
“To join with others and be in a sacred space with other Jews who are also starting their day in the same way prepares us to feel better and be less rushed,” Wolkenfeld said.
The daily minyan is also the “beating heart of a community.” It is where community members name babies and recite blessings, sometimes to support those who are sick.
The middle school students especially enjoy that Wolkenfeld often serves donuts on Wednesdays.
“It’s very gratifying to see a few people who have not, until now, prioritized daily minyan make it into a priority, which is necessary after others had to take a step back because of their shifting job responsibilities,” Wolkenfeld said.
The back-to-work order, however, is the least of members’ concerns, according to Wolkenfeld. Many federal employees are worried about job instability and possibly being laid off.
“The D.C. community has been characterized for many years by public service, of government employees, and government employees are really suffering right now,” Wolkenfeld said.
He added that the Ohev Sholom community has been a resource for these federal workers, providing them access to legal advice to help them understand their rights. Wolkenfeld and the Ohev Sholom team have worked to make the shul a clearinghouse for job searches and a networking hotspot. Above all, the team has made efforts to provide a supportive place.
“I believe that being in community helps you get through the worst of this,” he said.
Wolkenfeld compared this time of uncertainty — and in some cases, grief — to the Jewish way of mourning. Instead of immediately bouncing back from the loss of a loved one, Jewish community members typically sit shiva for a few days, mourn for 30 days, then mourn for another 11 months.
“Rituals like Kaddish force people to get out of their home and show up and be with the community and other people,” Wolkenfeld said. “It’s incredibly healing and helpful. … Showing up with your community in the same room on a Shabbat morning reminds people that they’re not going through this alone, the traumatic experiences they’re capturing are real and shared.”
