Not too long ago, it was a daily struggle to make minyan at Etz Chaim, one of Portland’s oldest synagogues.

Membership had so dwindled at the synagogue on Congress Street that gathering 10 adult Jewish males – the number needed to hold the daily prayer service – was never easy and often impossible.

“Each year that goes by, we think we’re not going to make it, and each year we manage to survive,” said Gary Berenson, president of the congregation.

No longer satisfied with merely surviving, the congregation now has begun making changes to become more relevant and inviting to potential members. The synagogue, founded in 1919 as an Orthodox institution, now calls itself Egalitarian and has dropped its strict prohibition on women participating in services.

The decision caused a few of the older, more traditionally minded members of the congregation to leave, but an equal number of people have joined, re-energizing the synagogue.

“I call it the ‘regentrification’ of the synagogue,” Darrell Cooper, vice president of the congregation, said. “I’m very optimistic about the future.”

Etz Chaim – Hebrew for “Tree of Life” – once was one of three Orthodox synagogues in a vibrant Jewish community known as “Little Jerusalem.” But in Portland and elsewhere, Orthodox congregations, practicing the most rigid branch of Judaism, have been dwindling.

In the 1940s, Etz Chaim, located at 267 Congress St., was able to hold minyan three times a day as required by Orthodox law, and for High Holy Days more than 400 people packed services in the big sanctuary. Per Orthodox rules, men and women sat separately – the men downstairs and women upstairs.

Over time, Jews in Portland drifted away from Orthodoxy to the more liberal Conservative synagogue – Temple Beth El – and the Reform synagogue in South Portland – Congregation Bet Ha’am. Congregation Shaarey Tphiloh is the only remaining Orthodox synagogue in Maine’s largest city.

As the membership at Etz Chaim declined, so did the condition of the building, an unremarkable brick structure that is mostly hidden by two large spruce trees. To this day, many of the synagogue’s stained-glass windows are broken; benches are scratched and scarred; and the prayer books are mildewed.

But, slowly, that’s changing. Among the congregation’s new recruits is Brian Lazarus, a furniture maker who started going to Etz Chaim a few years ago just to help them make minyan. He has since begun repairing or restoring the building’s windows, woodwork, roof and electrical system.

“The building itself is not architecturally significant, but the congregation is,” said Lazarus, whose company has restored cathedrals in Italy. “We’re just trying to get things back in order.”

Another recruit designed the synagogue’s new Web site, www.etzchaimportland.org.

Steve Hirshon, a longtime member of the congregation, said the recent changes to make the synagogue more inclusive were not made out of necessity, but because they are reasonable and appropriate.

“I respect that some people feel differently, but if we have nine men and one woman, it seems ridiculous not to be able to have service that day,” he said.

Berenson agrees.

“It’s the 21st century,” he said. “In the past, women were not educated about Jewish rituals. Today, they are equally educated and maybe more so.

“There is no practical reason to exclude them from services,” Berenson said.

Since Etz Chaim does not have a rabbi, daily services are conducted, in Hebrew, by lay people. Minyan is at 5:15 p.m. Monday through Thursday and Saturday services are held at 9 a.m.

“You won’t tell it by walking in the door because there’s dust all over the place,” Berenson said, “but we’re heading in the right direction.”