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First-ever empirical study of US rabbinate finds ‘shortage’ is more about fit than numbers
For years, synagogue leaders have said they can’t find enough clergy to fill their pulpits, leading to warnings of a nationwide rabbinic shortage. At the same time, openings for campus rabbis at Hillel chapters draw an average of 19 applicants each.
This mismatch between what rabbis want to do and the kinds of jobs available is among the many findings in the first-ever empirical study of the American rabbinate across denominations, released this week by the Atra Center for Rabbinic Innovation.
The study also examines the so-called “rabbinic pipeline” — the concern that declining enrollment at seminaries means too few people want to become rabbis. Here, too, the findings challenge conventional wisdom.
Surveying 450 people who considered the rabbinate but chose other careers, the study finds that lack of motivation was not a deciding factor. The most common barriers cited were the cost and duration of rabbinical school, the need to relocate, and concerns about the practicality of such a career.
In addition to these “would-be” rabbis, researchers surveyed nearly 1,500 others — including working and retired rabbis, current students, and seminary dropouts. They also interviewed leaders of rabbinical schools and associations, along with representatives of a wide range of rabbinic employers, while collecting recruitment and enrollment data.
Almost as notable as the findings is the diversity of those who took part. Participating organizations include every rabbinic institution from Reconstructionist and Reform to Conservative and Modern Orthodox, as well as all major non-denominational programs. Participation also came from umbrella groups representing Jewish summer camps, community centers, federations, and Hillel chapters. (Haredi Judaism was outside the study’s scope.)
“It’s a groundbreaking effort because there’s never been a comprehensive study of the rabbinate before, but it didn’t take much persuasion to get broad participation,” Atra’s executive director, Rabbi Shira Koch Epstein, said in an interview.
She described an eagerness to get involved that was motivated by years of debate about the issues addressed in the study. In one breakthrough, Atra convened dozens of leaders of institutions and programs that cultivate Jewish leaders and ordain rabbis, spanning the denominational range, for a brainstorming session about tackling the rabbinic pipeline.
“Everyone’s been trying to address the problems and the challenges, and we haven’t actually had any shared good information and data to help us do that,” Epstein said. “People actually want to work together on this, because they recognize that no one can do it alone.”
The study does not offer hard and fast solutions, instead positioning itself as a “mirror and a map” for collective action. Here are some of the highlights.
1. Only about half of all rabbis work in synagogues.
Those who do tend to find their job overly stressful and exhausting. Other kinds of rabbinical jobs offer much higher job satisfaction.
About 56% of rabbis are in pulpit jobs. The rest work for nonprofits, as chaplains, for day schools and universities or as independent entrepreneurs. The researchers spoke to 222 people who have held jobs in both categories. They said that working for a synagogue pays better but that, by every other metric of job satisfaction, working outside the synagogue is significantly better.
The study highlights this difference but also notes with a tone of reassurance and awe that 97% of all rabbis said their jobs are rewarding/meaningful.
2. After years of decline, rabbinical school enrollment appears to be stabilizing.
The widespread perception that the major denominational seminaries are graduating fewer students while newer and non-denominational schools are growing is validated in the study. The latter are now producing slightly more rabbis than the former. Over the past five years, enrollment declines at Conservative and Reform seminaries have stopped, suggesting that they’ve reached a new normal.
3. Most rabbinical students are women and most are LGBTQ. Many are converts.
Rabbinical students today reflect a far more diverse cohort than in the past. According to the Atra report, 58% identify as women, 30% as men, and 12% as nonbinary.
An estimated 51% identify as LGBTQ, a contrast made starker with survey data collected in the same study showing that only 15% of rabbis ordained 10 to 20 years ago are LGBTQ.
Meanwhile, 16% of rabbinical students are Jews by choice and 12% identify as a race other than white.
Both Atra and the researchers they commissioned to carry out the study caution against drawing sensational conclusions about the growing diversity. “There’s no data-driven evidence as to why it’s happening and what the implications of it are yet to be known,” Wendy Rosov, the study’s lead researcher, said in an interview.
4. Views about Israel or Zionism don’t factor heavily into decisions about whether to become a rabbi.
The past few years have seen some students drop out of rabbinical school in protest of what they say is anti-Zionism in the student body and dozens of students signing on to petitions that are harshly critical of Israel.
Atra didn’t collect data on how current and future rabbis feel about Israel. But it did check how whatever view they held factored into their motivation for the job. Only a small minority said they wanted to become rabbis as a way to promote Israel and an even smaller minority said they were worried of being silenced regarding their criticism of Israel.
The motivating factors people most often checked often were “a desire to serve others,” “I felt called by my love of Judaism,” “An interest in deepening their knowledge of Jewish text and traditions,” and “a desire to teach.”
5. A wave of rabbinic retirements is looming.
The Atra report estimates there are about 4,100 rabbis currently working across congregations, schools, nonprofits, campuses, and chaplaincies. But the profession is getting older only 6% are under 35, while a quarter are over 65.
With most rabbis ordained in their mid-30s and many staying in their roles for decades, the report warns that retirements may soon outnumber new entrants unless younger Jews are drawn into the field.
The report closes on a note of cautious optimism, calling for collective action rather than quick fixes. It outlines nine areas where collaboration could make the biggest difference — from easing the financial burden of rabbinical training to modernizing education, expanding non-congregational careers, and improving mentorship. Epstein is hopeful that the collaborative spirit embodied in the summer gathering could translate into shared solutions.
“This is a surmountable challenge,” she said.
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The post First-ever empirical study of US rabbinate finds ‘shortage’ is more about fit than numbers appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Israeli Minister of Strategic Affairs Ron Dermer Resigns
Former Israeli Ambassador to the US Ron Dermer attends a special session of the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, to approve and swear in a new right-wing government, in Jerusalem, Dec. 29, 2022. Photo: REUTERS/Amir Cohen/Pool
Israel’s Strategic Affairs Minister Ron Dermer, who played a leading role in negotiations during the Gaza war and was a close confidant of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, resigned on Tuesday.
His departure follows weeks of speculation in Israeli media and marks the end of a tenure that began in late 2022, when he was tapped for the post after years as Israel’s ambassador to Washington.
“I am writing to inform you of my decision to end my position as minister for strategic affairs,” Dermer wrote in a two-page letter to Netanyahu released to the media.
There was no immediate response to a request for comment from the prime minister‘s office.
The US-born Dermer wrote that when he became minister of strategic affairs in December 2022, he promised his family he would serve for no more than two years and twice he extended it with their blessing.
He wrote the first time was to work with Netanyahu to remove the existential threat of Iran’s military nuclear capability in June and the second was to negotiate a ceasefire in Gaza in October and the return of Israel’s hostages held in Gaza.
“What I am to expect in the future I don’t know but one thing I know for sure: In all that I will do, I will continue to do my part to secure the future of the Jewish people,” he wrote.
Dermer was one of Netanyahu’s most trusted advisers, negotiating the October ceasefire with both the Trump administration and Arab countries.
Dermer was ambassador to Washington from 2013-2021. His service there overlapped with Republican President Donald Trump’s first term from 2017-2021.
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A young Muslim woman moved in with a 96-year-old Jewish actress – and it was bashert
For Negin Nader Bazrafkan, Yiddish lessons have been an unexpected perk of moving into her Upper West Side apartment.
Her roommate — and unofficial Yiddish teacher — is 96-year-old Rebecca Schull, a retired actress best known for her roles as Fay Cochran on the sitcom Wings and as protagonist Mike Ross’ grandmother on Suits. From Schull, Bazrafkan has learned words like chutzpah, schmuck, simcha, klutz, schmutz, and faynshmeker. Her favorite is tuches, slang for buttocks, a word that makes them both laugh and their cheeks flush.
The unlikely roommates’ 61-year age gap might raise eyebrows on its own. But for some of Bazrafkan’s friends, it’s the fact that she’s Muslim and Schull is Jewish that stands out most.
“A lot of people ask me, ‘Isn’t it hard, after October 7, to live with a Jewish person with Israeli roots?’” she said. “And I tell them, ‘No, it’s really not hard at all.’”
In fact, Bazrafkan had hoped to live with an older Jewish woman. During the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s, her parents fled Shiraz, Iran — a city once home to a significant Jewish community — and resettled in Denmark, where she grew up. Her mother often reminisced about her childhood Jewish friends and encouraged her daughter to connect with people from different backgrounds.
So when Bazrafkan moved to New York City in January 2023, she made it a priority to experience Jewish culture firsthand. While pursuing a Master of Laws at Fordham University, she worked at both the American Jewish Committee and Fordham’s Center for Jewish Studies; often, she was the only Muslim in the room.
“I could stay in my own lane. I could have Muslim friends, European friends and all of that, but I already have that,” she said.
About two years ago, Bazrafkan posted online that she was looking for a room on the Upper West Side, preferably with an older Jewish roommate. The New York Foundation for Senior Citizens matched her with Schull, who had a spare bedroom in her two-bedroom apartment with views of the Hudson River.
It was also an ideal fit for Schull, who didn’t want to live alone after her husband, Gene, died in 2008.
The two women clicked immediately.
“It’s like destiny,” Bazrafkan said. “That’s what I felt.”
Schull and Bazrafkan welcomed me into their apartment where they served baklava, toast, jam and assorted fruit — in the same living room, Schull noted, where her grandson had his bris. “This apartment has a lot of history,” Schull said.
The two quickly outgrew the label of roommates, forming a bond they describe more like that of an adoptive mother and daughter. They walk together in nearby Straus Park and bond over old movies like Ninotchka, a 1939 romantic comedy about a Soviet diplomat played by Greta Garbo who is sent to Paris. Bazrafkan cooks for Schull and files her fan mail; in exchange, Schull braids Bazrafkan’s waist-length ombré hair.
“It’s nice to be with somebody who’s not on their phone, watching reels, or worrying about a Tinder date,” Bazrafkan said. “People nowadays — they don’t even read a book anymore!”
Schull’s daughter Elly Meeks also described Bazrafkan as a member of the family.
“She has a joie de vivre [joy for living], an openness, an incredible caring, compassionate nature,” Meeks said. “It’s beyond a blessing.”
Bazrafkan has also brought touches of Persian Jewish culture, teaching Schull about Queen Esther’s Persian roots and cooking gondi — a Persian Jewish chicken soup with chickpea flour dumplings — for a Passover Seder they hosted last spring.
“We do it by the book,” Bazrafkan said.
“Well, sort of,” Schull said and laughed. “We took a stab at the Haggadah.”
Bazrafkan’s curiosity about Jewish heritage extends to Israel. Schull told her about her family’s deep commitment to Zionism: Her mother grew up in what was then Palestine, and her father was the first executive director of what’s now the American Technion Society — a nonprofit that fundraises for an Israeli university and was co-founded by Albert Einstein, whose signed portrait hangs in Schull’s apartment.
A small Israeli flag sits on a cabinet, and the walls are lined with paintings of Jerusalem by the Israeli artist Nachum Gutman.
None of that bothers Bazrafkan, who said she believes deeply in coexistence and is holding out hope for a two-state solution. Living with Schull, she said, has helped her process the Israel-Hamas war and tensions surrounding the New York City mayoral election — because it keeps her from growing overly pessimistic.
“In these times of war, there’s something healing about it,” Bazrafkan said. “I think I would feel worse if I didn’t live with Rebecca.”
If a pair of roommates can bridge decades and faiths, she added, perhaps it’s a small sign of hope for the world.
The post A young Muslim woman moved in with a 96-year-old Jewish actress – and it was bashert appeared first on The Forward.
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The Gospel of Grievance — From Father Coughlin to Tucker Carlson
Tucker Carlson speaks at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, Oct. 21, 2025. Photo: Gage Skidmore/ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters Connect
There is a new digital gospel sweeping the American landscape. It preaches grievance, faith, and freedom in equal measures. Its apostles include the likes of Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, Nick Fuentes, and a proliferating class of imitators.
Freed from the guardrails of editors and regulators, they feed off of mob fury and algorithmic applause. They use their pulpits to preach of national decay, all while wrapping themselves in the vestments of Christian renewal.
They all claim to be “just asking questions,” but by some perverse irony, the answer is always the same. Behind every corruption, every lost ideal, and every “establishment,” they inevitably will find the familiar silhouette of the Jew.
They have updated the tropes with terms like globalists, neo-cons, and Christian Zionists, but the pogrom-era rhetoric remains familiar. This is not theological antisemitism; this is a 21st-century cultural version, an aesthetic antisemitism of mood, meme, and insinuation. Utilizing borrowed piety, they baptize resentment and harvest rage and indignation.
This is their crusade, and they have corrupted a religious thematic to lend them divine coverage. “The truth shall set you free,” is their battle cry, and “Christ is King” has become their slogan of defiance, not devotion.
As my grandmother was fond of saying, “there is nothing new under the sun.” This is not a new gospel, only a recycled heresy. We have a recent and more successful American epoch to which we can look to for perspective. In fact, Tucker and his minions merely plagiarized the playbook of an American Catholic priest just over a century ago known as Father Coughlin.
Charles Coughlin began in Detroit as a preacher of hope — and ended up as one of the most prolific disseminators of antisemitism in American history. Armed with his frock and a national radio program, Coughlin delivered his own racist brand of Christian virtue that was populism with a halo.
He broadcast his divinely inspired grievances, to an audience estimated at its height of up to 40 million people, or roughly one-third of the American population. His diatribes were consistent in that they all revolved around a theme of Jewish conspiracy.
In his telling, Franklin Roosevelt, the New Deal, Wall Street, unions, the press, were all controlled and manipulated by the Jews.
When he launched his radio show, it was moralistic but not sanctimonious; he was charismatic, warm, and conversational.
Everything changed with the Great Depression — when he transitioned from theological to economic populism, less priest, and more crusader. As his popularity soared, his myopic focus on the Jewish population increased accordingly.
As a man who saw things in cosmic good and evil, God versus corruption, he became a demagogue railing against the banks and the “money changers.”
He was vocally defending Hitler, supporting fascism, and reprinting the “Elders of Zion” and other Nazi propaganda. This activity was accompanied by his incessant attacks on the ubiquitous Jew that he saw in every shadow of every corner.
Rabbi Jonathan Sachs once said, “More than hate destroys the hated, it destroys the hater.” In the case of Father Coughlin, his malady had taken him past the point of no return, and his passion had graduated from engaging to psychosis.
The Vatican decided Coughlin was a liability and pulled the plug by instructing him to cease broadcasting. Roosevelt’s government and the FCC decided that the good father had crossed the Rubicon and had no choice but to take him down. He was unceremoniously deprived of mail and radio privileges.
Father Coughlin went back to quiet pastoring for another few decades, and passed away in ignominy in 1979.
Today’s pretenders to Coughlin’s throne are less talented, but they are equally venomous and divisive. We can no longer rely on the church and government to stymie the efforts of those who wish to divide us.
Anyone with a Wi-Fi connection can mine the depths of human debasement and moral despair. Radio towers are no longer the barrier to entry, all that is required today is a grievance and a trending podcast.
In a way, this makes the likes of Carlson, Owens, and Fuentes more dangerous — because no one will be coming to stop them. It will be solely up to the American people to accept or reject what they are selling.
Coughlin’s America had the courage to silence him, but ours has provided a microphone and an audience. America today rightfully does not believe in guardrails and resists cancel culture, but at the same time it mistakes amplification for truth. Racism thrives when institutions abdicate, when grievances are monetized faster than they can be moderated, and when complexity is traded for conspiracy.
Philip Gross is a business executive and writer based in London. Born in New York, he writes on Jewish history, identity, and public affairs.