Collecting Outstanding Balances From Members

It costs money to run a Shul. On a the back of a napkin, we previously estimated a cost of $75,000 per year for a 50 member family Shul. The costs include rental space, Rabbi’s salary, utilities, food costs, program costs and professional fees.

The vast majority of the necessary funds come from the membership through donations, dues, holiday seats and other fees. It’s inevitable that you’ll run into situations were Shul members are not current or behind more than 120 days in their obligations. The question is how to deal with these situations.

The first idea is to have a written policy, usually in the bylaws, regarding what constitutes a member in good standing, and what rights are reserved for members of good standing.

Secondly, you should send out bills on a regular basis, be it monthly. bi-monthly or quarterly. Generally, people pay their balances more readily, if and when they receive a bill.

The third and most difficult issue is setting and enforcing a policy for collecting balances.
Here are three possible policiies:
1) Enforce a strict policy of removing the member’s rights as specified in the bylaws. This will probably result in better collections, but it’s at the cost of alienating and possibly losing members who have outstanding balances.
2) Enforce a very lenient policy, with little or no removing of member rights. This will result in worse collections, but less people will be offended.
3) Enforce a selective policy, with great leniency in the case of true hardships, and some from of enforcement in other situations.

I’ve always personally advocated a very lenient policy, based on the assumption that Shul members are by and large honest, an assessment that the Shul can afford such a policy, and that nobody wants to be the collection enforcers. Another thing to keep in mind is the increase in Shul choices, for members in mid-size to larger neighborhoods, with many being low or no-cost options.

None of the choices are ideal, so it’s up to the board and/or the kitchen cabinet to set a sensible policy.

Thermometers and The Problem of Objective Standards

A Policy Enforced By Thermometer
In a previous post about The Politics of the Open Shul Window, I recommended setting a policy based on using thermometers and creating a committee or a person to enforce a temperature based policy. A recent incident caused me to re-evaluate that suggestion.

A New Clock Arrives
My weekday Shul is in a small room that fits about 35 people and it can get quite warm when the window is closed, which it often is. It’s basically a grin and bear it situation. Recently, one of the Mispallim donated a big new atomic clock (it’s a Neitz (sunrise) minyan), with a digital thermometer visible to all. After davening, I looked at the thermometer and it was 78 degrees. I went to the Gabbai and mentioned that 78 degrees is warm by objective standards, and I asked if perhaps it can be remedied.

Returning to the Scene
I was away for a few days, and when I came back it was cooler in the room, because the window had been open, but the thermometer was changed to Celsius. When I noted the Celsius change to the Gabbai, he just smiled. He also mentioned that a local Rav had a thermometer to monitor the temperature, but subsequently removed it.

The Problem of Objective Standards
On the surface objective standards seem fine, because they’re measurable and fair. The problem comes because the objective standard makes everybody a potential enforcer of the policy and that’s usually unworkable. With an objective standard, any person can insist that one degree above the agreed upon temperature requires the window to be open. There usually needs to be some discretion in policy enforcement and the objective standard eliminates that.

What’s the solution? Assign someone to be responsible for the temperature and opening of the windows, but don’t state an objective standard that can be called to enforcement by any member.

The Oneg

Some great community resources are not planned, they’re just born. The Oneg is one of them. A good friend and his family were moving from the outskirts of Kew Gardens Hills to my block. After they moved, he invited me over for a L’chaim one Friday night. It was a great time and I said, “Why don’t you have an Oneg every week?”. And thus “The Oneg” was born.

Every Friday night, this family opens their heart, their house and their kitchen to whoever wants to come by. Some fruit, some cake, some chips and now the weekly Frulent – the Friday night Chulent. And beverages and a L’Chaim for whoever wants. Many people come and don’t partake, and even those who do, it’s very limited and controlled with no one even come close to drunkenness. People come for the people, the comfort, the conversation.

One family comes regularly with the youngest giving over his short weekly Dvar Torah. There are other people who stop by regularly, but many come periodically, whenever it works for them. I personally try to stop by at least once a month, and it’s truly a warm, wonderful place. Whoever wants can say a Dvar Torah, and people have the good sense to keep it short and relevant. We’re not such a singing chevra, so there’s no regular zemiros, but if anybody started, others would quickly join it.

To replicate this it’s good to have a host family where people really feel comfortable coming by. It’s nice that it’s weekly, but monthly would also work. You can rotate homes. If it’s hard to find host homes, then do it in Shul. Every community Oneg will have it’s own feel – and it’s all good! The bottom line is that people have a wonderful opportunity to enjoy Shabbos with their friends, after the busy week many of us experience.