“Shabbat Interrupted”

Every time I hear a report of an attack at a synagogue, my heart aches. Yet, somewhere in the back of my mind I think, “Not my shul …” As the executive director of Adat Shalom in West Los Angeles, I am well aware that a random act of violence or a terrorist attack intended to harm my congregants could occur.

Thanks to FEMA security grants, we are now installing new gates, coded locks, CCTV, intercoms, and more. These measures will make us feel more secure, even though there is no absolute guarantee of safety. 

These past weeks in the Jewish world have been more eventful than usual: An historic vote in Israel and the mournful holiday of Tisha b’Av contrasted with the riveting and inspiring speech delivered by Israeli President Isaac Herzog to a joint session of Congress. 

I was looking forward to the respite of Shabbat. I felt grateful, ebullient, and optimistic entering Shabbat morning services this past week. My heart was full seeing all the people in our main sanctuary, as Rabbi Miriam Potok and Cantor Dale Schatz led an exuberant service.

My reverie was soon shattered. I listened in disbelief as someone whispered to me that he saw an officer, gun drawn, entering the kitchen just steps away from the sanctuary. My heart was pounding, my brain uncomprehending. I looked around at the nearly 100 congregants engrossed in the Torah service and quickly exited to the security guard station.

Three LAPD officers were conferring with our guards. They had completed a sweep of the building — bathrooms, kitchen, interior courtyard, offices, and the perimeter — and found nothing suspicious. They asked me what they asked security: Did I see anyone unusual this morning? No. Were there any other entrances? No.

Jeff Abrams, ADL’s Regional Director, whom I had just seen inside the sanctuary, stepped over to explain. ADL had been monitoring the “Dark Web” as they always do and detected a thread about an intruder who had allegedly placed a bag on the premises. Jeff had alerted the LAPD, FBI, CSI, and us. 

In the end, this was a “swatting” event, a prank meant to disrupt services. The perpetrators would be able to watch their wished-for havoc in real time through our livestream. Fortunately, the quick responses across security agencies and a composed explanation to the congregation in the middle of services from our president, Marla Knoll, with an “all clear” from the LAPD, thwarted such a spectacle. I am proud of the calm that prevailed.

To say that all of us at Adat Shalom are thankful and filled with the deepest appreciation for the coordination and professionalism from the ADL, LAPD, FBI, CSI and our security team is an understatement. I am enormously grateful to our facilities manager, Cesar Olivares, who kept his cool and guided the officers throughout the campus.

As the service continued, a small voice in my head kept asking me, “Did we miss something?” “What if, God forbid, something really were to happen here and a tragedy unfolded?” Thankfully all was well, but later, reflecting upon the morning, my anxiety persisted.

I am the executive director of a synagogue, not a security and terrorism expert. I am responsible for day-to-day operations, programs and budgets. And I understand firsthand how the job description of executive directors and synagogue staffs everywhere must continually expand to deal with the harsh realities of today’s world. The responsibility sometimes feels overwhelming and daunting. Thankfully, the burden is shared across synagogue leadership and clergy in navigating the intricacies of security.

Yes, we are installing new security infrastructure, and everyone must be mindful and vigilant. Doors are locked, strangers are questioned, unfamiliar bags are inspected, and so on. And the community is being prepared on how to act if, God forbid, we are faced with a real crisis.

Yet, with all the “What ifs,” I will be at shul next week, and the week after that, and the week after that…

B’Shalom,

Shana Tovah u’Metukah v’Betuchah

Renalee Pflug proudly serves as executive director of Adat Shalom in West Los Angeles.