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Category: community

How do you read a survey about the Jews? Re-framing Pew

This piece is based on a sermon given at Congregation B’nai Shalom last Shabbat.

Last week the Pew Research Center on Religion and Public Life released their study on Jewish American life.  In the days since its release, I have read dozens of articles and blog pieces commenting on their results. I’ve even written one myself that got a lot of attention at myjewishlearning.com which I shared on our facebook page over the weekend.
Jewish professionals are poring over the details and offering their own spins on the data. But the rest of us are just getting on with living our lives; lives that incorporate and reflect our Jewish identities and values, and many other facets of our identities all at the same time.  Many Jewish professionals are hand-wringing and angst-dwelling. Most Jews are just doing what they were doing last week and the week before – living their lives.
So, perhaps it is useful to share some of the statistics that, while probably not surprising, are worth presenting, just so you know what all the fuss is all about.  Here are just a few of the stats that have been quoted in many reviews of the report – selectively citing these kinds of figures, without deeper analysis or framing, is why we are hearing a lot of angst this week about the results.
For example, 88% of those surveyed identified themselves as Jewish both in terms of religious and cultural identity. But 22% identified themselves as culturally or ethnically Jewish, but not religiously identified that way.  And when you break down the numbers by age, 32% of those born after 1980 identify as Jewish but with no religion. Whereas 90% of those who identify their religion as Jewish are raising their children as Jews, 2/3rds of those who identify as Jews of no religion are notraising their children with any kind of Jewish identity, religious or cultural. The rate of intermarriage has risen, and this is more prevalent (considerably more so) among Jews of no religion.
In terms of Jewish denomination, we do see Reform being the largest group in the US, but the Reform numbers reported in the survey are enlarged by those who don’t belong to any kind of community but use the label ‘Reform’ to identify themselves.  Looking at those who have switched denomination during their lifetimes, the Reform movement has also been the largest recipient of those who grew up Conservative and even Orthodox.  However, we also see many figures that demonstrate that Reform Jews are less Jewishly engaged than those who identify as Conservative or Orthodox on a wide range of measures. At this point in time, only about 1/3rd of Jews who identify as Reform belong to Reform synagogues (stats from other studies in the recent past suggest that, over their lifetime, as many as 70 or 80% might below to a synagogue for a while). Reform Jews are more likely to have non-Jewish friends and spend less time in Jewish communal activities.
There are a ton more detailed stats available in this extensive report, and I highly recommend going to the Pew Forum website to review the information for yourself. Tonight I don’t want to overload you with figures. Instead I want to suggest a framing for the data that we can all read if we choose to.
In my earlier blog article I highlighted two key ideas that must be held in mind whenever we look at statistics. For those who don’t know, my PhD was in sociology with a specialist focus in research methods, so I know one or two things about this subject. The first is that correlation and causation are not the same thing. I had a phone call from a gentleman in Worcester the day that the survey came out. I thought it might be a journalist looking for a rabbi’s response, but it turned out to be a concerned citizen who wanted to express his concern for the damage that interfaith marriage was doing to the Jewish community.  Here’s the thing. It is one thing to note that individuals who hold certain kinds of views, and who believe certain kinds of things are more likely to marry a non-Jew. That’s a correlation and the stats bear that out. But it is quite another thing to state that interfaith marriage causes someone to be less engaged with the Jewish community. Ask about 35% of our congregation if that is true. Their own lives, choices, and families who we are blessed to count among our active, dedicated Jewish community will tell a different story. What is absolutely wonderful is how many interfaith couples are choosing to raise Jewish children – many more than earlier surveys and assumptions would have predicted.  We change the reality every day by the choices we make and the way we, as a community, respond.
Likewise, it is not choosing to identify as Reform that makes one less involved in Jewish learning, activity, and community. There are many of us – many of you here – who believe in and care about Jewish community and Jewish traditions, and they enrich your lives and you enrich your Jewish community. But there are also many Jews who claim the label ‘Reform’ as code for their relative lack of engagement in Jewish life and practice. How should we regard this information? We could moan about the challenge of creating an intensely connected community when a substantial group who choose to travel with us for some period of time seem to be comfortable remaining on the periphery. Or we could recognize the incredible blessing of the open tent, inclusive nature of a Reform congregation that makes it easier for more people to step through the door, feel welcomed, and the opportunity we have each time one more family does so to share what is beautiful and meaningful about Jewish spiritual life with them.  We might celebrate the fact that we have a ‘brand’ that is appealing and inclusive enough that so many people feel comfortable claiming it as part of their identity! Of course we don’t find those Jews in Orthodox communities – they’ve already been excluded, or assumed they would be excluded and, often, written off.
The other thing that I highlighted in my earlier blog piece was the information shared by the Pew researchers that noted that the patterns of religious and non-religious identity, affiliation and non-affiliation, very closely aligned with research conducted last year about American society in general. In other words, the younger generation in the USA are likely to answer ‘none’ to the question of what religion they identify with in about the same proportions as Jews of the same age are likely to identify as being of no religion. And what that phrase actually means is incredibly complex and multi-faceted – the statistics won’t enlighten us as to that meaning – that requires a different kind of inquiry and conversation.
  
So what are we to make of all of these statistics? Are we to be concerned that, based on these figures and projected trajectories, we are likely to be a less religiously identified and organizationally participating Jewish community in the coming years (thinking here only about current manifestations of Jewish organization; who knows what new entities will be created in coming years)? Well, there may be a reality to that which will see change in the number and nature of the Jewish institutions our community supports. But, whether that is true or not, what do these results really mean, and what should we, if anything, be doing, in response to them?
Here’s where the frame comes in.  First of all, the report concluded that there were a much larger number of Jewish in the USA than previous studies. Perhaps 1 million or more extra. One of the reasons for this is because the study allowed people answering the survey to self-define andself-identify their Jewishness. What this means is that a large number of those who called themselves Jews of no religion would most likely, in previous decades, not have been counted at all. Our own children, if you ask them, will tell you that they have school friends who identify as ‘half Jewish’ because they have one Jewish parent. Perhaps they go to family for a Passover meal. Maybe they light a menorah. Maybe they do absolutely nothing of a religious nature at all. Yet they are aware of their family background and choose to claim the part that is Jewish as their own. Think back to your childhoods – who would have, if they didn’t have to, choose to identify themselves with the Jewish people?  It wasn’t cool to be Jewish. Now it is. That’s as clear a sign as any that we’ve made it in American society. Yes, assimilation is also a fact of life when we’ve been so entirely absorbed and integrated into a host society (in a matter of 3 or 4 generations). But Jewish is now something that doesn’t only live in the private home or the synagogue – it lives everywhere. That is wonderful, and there is incredible opportunity in this if we take the time to understand what it means and respond to it.
So yes, that makes life for institutions like synagogues a bit more complicated. While there are still plenty of people who understand the way a congregation can provide a structure and vessel for their Jewish expression and experience, for those who don’t identify as of the Jewish religion, the synagogue, as usually conceived, doesn’t appear to have much to offer them as a vehicle for their Jewishness. So they go to film festivals, watch Jon Stewart, and take note of Jewish stories that come across their face book feed, but we don’t reach these Jews because we’re not hanging out in the same part of the cultural landscape that they are.  There’s a lot of debate as to whether synagogues need to reinvent themselves or stretch themselves to start showing up in different kinds of places and in different kinds of ways. Or whether we accept that a smaller % of Jews in America will continue to connect with synagogues, and we should let other projects and organizations specialize in working in those other spaces.
As you probably know, I’m more of a hybrid kind of gal. I believe in the mission and purpose of synagogue life, but I also believe in porous borders, in being a hub but providing enriching Jewish opportunities in the greater community, and shifting the overall balance and emphasis of what we do together as a congregational community so as to speak to the full diversity of Jewish families in our midst.  We’re only just beginning, but we’re already making changes in this direction at Congregation B’nai Shalom.  
There is so much more to be said about the rich data available from the Pew research. But a sermon slot doesn’t permit that kind of depth in one, short presentation. But I want to come back to the framing of the information we are absorbing. Just as we can understand the expansion of those who choose ‘Jewish’ as any part of their identification label as positive, even while it is challenging us, so we can choose how we label the shifting patterns of Jewish life that we see unfolding in the data. If we label some of the findings as ‘problems’ there is a suggestion that these are things to be solved. I don’t know about you, but I personally am inclined to tune out if someone labels me just living my life as ‘a problem.’ When ‘official’ voices of the Jewish community say this about others who proudly identity as Jews, whatever that means to them, they risk simply making the organizations that they represent irrelevant to the very people that they seek to change.
I also don’t believe that we Jews, and our structures, organizations, and synagogues, that engage about 1/3rd of the 2% of the US population that is Jewish, have the power to change the tide of cultural shifts that shape 100% of American society, of which we are such a tiny component.  I believe our job is to know what those changing tides are, to do our best to understand them, to ask ourselves whether we have the ability to respond to them by changing what we do or how we do it. Sometimes the answer will be ‘yes’. Sometimes the answer will be ‘no’ and new organizations and ideas will surface from new places that meet needs that older institutions are unable to meet. That’s just the way it is.

What we can do, if we believe in the purpose and meaning of a rich and full congregational life, is do all we can to sustain and enliven it with our own selves. Through our investment of time and resources, through our commitment to creating an environment where we passionately share our love of Jewish life with our children, where we teach them how to make space for Jewish living in a world with so many competing demands, where we recognize that weare the carriers of ancient culture ever evolving in which we seek and find meaning, spirituality, social justice, and love for one another… These and more are the ways that we, if we care about these facts and figures, and want to do our part to make Jewish life in America vibrant, will continue to make it so by our own choices and our own deeds. It’s not about the Rabbis. It’s not about the synagogues. It’s not about the Federations. It’s not about the Jewish film festivals. These are the vessels – the places and the networks. But it’s about you, and you, and you, and me. Each of us doing Jewish and being Jewish in all of its multifaceted forms. Doing and being together. And it is rich, it is varied, and it is exciting.  So lets stop angsting and just get doing.

#BlogElul: Take a Seat, Make a Friend

Each year, our wonderful colleague Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, puts forth a daily theme for the Jewish month of Elul – the four weeks leading up to Rosh Hashanah. There are many others who are participating in #BlogElul with quotes, images, and thought pieces. It is wonderful to read multiple interpretations of the daily theme by different writers on their blogs and via their tweets.

This year, I will also be blogging through Elul, but I’m going to be departing from the common themes of the #BlogElul project. It is a little chutzpadik on my part, but I’ll be continuing to label my postings with the #BlogElul moniker to connect with the larger community who is engaged in reflection during this preparatory month.  Traveling with my own congregation, connecting with community, and specifically relationship-building between congregants, is our larger theme for this coming High Holyday season and beyond.

I’ll explain more in a just a moment.  But first, I invite you to take a few minutes to watch this wonderful, heart-warming video to set the scene:

  And here are some excerpts from the message I shared with my congregation on the 1st day of Elul, to launch our own ‘Take a Seat, Make a Friend’ experience over the coming 7 weeks and beyond:

Four people, sitting in kayaks in the middle of a lake, strike up a conversation. It is not a hypothetical – it is what happened when two of the families who came to our Summer picnic at Hopkinton State Park just a few weeks ago met. They discovered that they have a great deal in common. Lesley and David learned that they’d grown up in the same town, and even belonged to the same temple. David and Jim learned that they used to work at the same company, and David has done business with Jim’s new boss. Jim and Lori discovered that they were both Industrial Engineers by training. But, as Lesley put it, more than the specifics, it was the overall sense of connection that was important – it created a warmth in their hearts and a feeling of being ‘home’. Just as our teens speak about Chai School being a place where a sense of common identity is felt by how friends just ‘get each other’, so that sense of connection is something that we all deeply hope to find in community.

This is what happens when you take a seat and begin to talk. It can happen on a kayak, in a ball pit, at a coffee table, at an Oneg, and anywhere that two people begin a conversation that scratches beneath the surface.

We all yearn for that kind of connection. And we want Congregation B’nai Shalom to be the kind of community where you can find it. This year we will be especially focusing our energies on creating the kind of gatherings and opportunities that will enable more of us to have those meaningful conversations and deepen relationships among the members of our congregation.

There will be many opportunities to experience this during the High Holyday season. However, there is no time to start like the present. While the core work of relationship building happens in face-to-face interaction, the next four weeks – the Jewish month of Elul – is traditionally a time of preparation. During this month, I will be posting inspirational quotes and videos on themes of connection and relationship, along with questions on our Facebook page (‘like’ the page to receive the feed on your wall). If you are not a Facebook user, you will find the same reflections on my blog (where you can also sign up to receive new postings in your email inbox). I invite you to engage, comment, and share when you can. Our online sharing and interactions with each other’s comments will enable us all to get to know each other a little more. If you prefer, you can choose to share anonymously on the blog and, if you wish to do so on Facebook, send me your comment and we will post as ‘CBS’ with your thoughts.

In addition, I am inviting congregants to contemplate some of the questions below and send me short responses in the coming weeks. I will weave these responses into our High Holyday services this year and, in this way, we will co-create our liturgy together, getting to know each other a little more deeply in the process.

  • Share something on your bucket list? Why this?
  • Who or what inspires you?
  • What is one experience that changed your life?
  • What keeps you up at night?
  • What do you have faith in?
  • What is most precious to you?
  • Who do you miss? How did they impact your life?

So… let the conversations begin.

Snapshots of Congregation B’nai Israel

This sermon was delivered on Shabbat, June 1st, as a reflection on serving Congregation B’nai Israel for the past six years.  I will be moving on to Congregation B’nai Shalom in Westborough, MA, beginning July 1st.  I will continue to blog at this address.


Rabbi Prosnit often jokes, upon returning to lead services the first Shabbat after taking a vacation that ‘this will be the ‘what the Rabbi saw on his vacation’ sermon.’  But, while we get the joke, the sermons are always insightful and I always see the world in a new light or learn something new from listening to those reflections.  Because Rabbi Prosnit, who I have learned so much from these past six years, knows that a good friend does not make you endure a sitting of the 875 photos that they took on their holiday; rather, they pre-select a handful of the most unique and memorable moments worthy of sharing.
 When I’ve been on a journey and return with my collection of snap-shots, I tend not to be the kind of traveler who has images like ‘there’s me in city X’, or ‘there’s me next to statue Y’.  I like to take in the scene, and learn from the unfolding of the human or natural scene before me.  I want you to see what I saw through my eyes when I was there.  And that’s what I want to do this evening.  This isn’t the ‘What I’ve learned about being a Rabbi’ sermon.  This is the ‘This is what Jewish community looks and feels like’ sermon.  I’ve sifted through thousands of days, scenes and moments from the past 6 years here at B’nai Israel.  Too many to count and too many to do justice to all of you, what you have created together, and how you have inspired me.  All I can do is select a few snapshots.  This is my mini photo-montage of my journey with Congregation B’nai Israel – the memories that I take with me, created by each and every one of you.
Shabbat morning minyan
The first picture is a little out-of-focus.  That’s because I’m still rather bleary-eyed at 8am.  As many of you know, I’m not a morning person.  But, such an incredibly unique and blessed community is our Shabbat morning 8am minyan that I believe that I’d be a regular attendee even if I didn’t have to get up to the lead the service.  Cantor Blum knows that when I lean over to her just before we start the service and say, ‘let’s sing ‘Open up our eyes’ before the Shema this morning,’ that I need a little extra help fully awakening to the day that week.
In this slightly blurred snap-shot, you’ll see a teenager reading Torah on the anniversary of their bar or bat mitzvah.  Or perhaps one of the many adult Torah leyners we have up at the reading desk.  If you notice that the shot looks a little more blurred where their hand holds the yad – the Torah pointer – its because sometimes they get nervous.  But they do it anyway, and they inspire others, from time to time, to step up and say that they are ready to have a go.
But I also want you to take in the scene at the back of the chapel.  There’s a couple of rows of women – they are some of our senior members.  They are there every week.  They’ve been through a lot; losses and challenges in life.  But they are there for each other, and they help each other get through.  And they didn’t stop praying.  In fact, its after some of those losses and challenges that they began.  Seeing them there, praying together, helps me to pray.
Our teenagers
In the next snap-shot its hard to pick out what to focus on.  Actually, unless you were there, its hard to tell from the image what exactly is going on – it’s a group of teenagers and the scene looks a bit chaotic.  Its hard to tell what they are doing, but you can see from the laughs on their faces that everyone is having fun.  This is a Monday night during my class with our Eighth Graders.  You know, its not an accident that I’ve spent 6 years running the 8th grade program.  It wasn’t intended as Rabbi Prosnit’s version of hazing the new Assistant Rabbi.  Its actually the gift that I received from our Educator, Ira Wise.  We value our teens, and bar and bat mitzvah is not a destination, its just one stop on the journey.  And when one of your Rabbis is responsible for teaching the 8th grade its because we really care and we want you to be a part of it. 
In my photo, on this particular night, things look a bit different because it’s the night when members of BIFTY, our Youth Group, come storming in and ‘kidnap’ my students for night to give them a taste of our High School youth group community that they will be invited to become a part of that night.  I’ll tell you what I see in this picture, and what awes me every time.  A group of teenagers – 14, 15, 16 year olds maybe.  And some of those kids were my 8thgrade middle class students just last year.  And tonight they are leaders.  They are team-building, and they are instructing and guiding, and they are helping and including.  And I get a glimpse of something that is so much more powerful than just fun and games.  I get a glimpse of the remarkable young people in our congregation; not only may they be the leaders of our community in the future – they are our leaders today. 
I see them in BIFTY, I see them at Merkaz.  And they inspire me and give me hope.
Nursery and young children
The next picture is one of the few places in the synagogue building where I feel tall.  There are some adults in the room – a couple of teachers and our Pre-School Director, Alexa Cohen.  But I’m feeling tall because I’m in a pre-school classroom with a class of 4 year old children.  We’ve got our hands and legs stretched out in all different directions (demonstrate).  We’re being trees.  Because its almost Tu Bishvat – the festival of trees.  Tu Bishvat often falls in February and so, when I come in and ask them what special holiday is coming up soon, I’ve learned not to be surprised when they tell me ‘Valentine’s Day’. 
In fact, its very helpful when they remind me that 3 and 4 years take in everything from the world around us.  It reminds me that being a Rabbi today means that we always have to respond to the times and the culture that our community is living in.  We can’t stand still, and we have to make the ancient Jewish rituals, holidays and wisdom relevant in today’s world.  That’s what Rabbi Nicole Wilson-Spiro has done in providing a weekly Shabbat morning Young Families Chavurah which combines a totally contemporary take on parenting Jewish children with the gift of family time on Shabbat.  And that’s what Elaine Chetrit does with our elementary-aged children on Friday evening at Mishpacha Shabbat.  Celebrating with these groups gives me joy.
Adult learners
If the next shot looks a little unfamiliar and a little… Christian… that’s because we’re at a Retreat Center on the CT shoreline.  30 women have gathered for a one day retreat.  Its probably the most intensive kind of adult learning experience that I’ve taken a snap-shot of, but I could have chosen so many others, with men and women, experienced learners and complete beginners, figuring out their relationship with Jewish community, traditions, ethics, and taking a look at what they believe, what inspires them, and what feeds their spirit and their soul.  Some are engaging in the hardest kind of learning of all – being complete beginners at Hebrew with Elaine, or the festivals and other basics in the Parent Learning Circle. 
Its not easy being a beginner at something when we’re adults and so accomplished in other areas of life.  But the snap-shot of the retreat will always stay with me.  Its partly that the setting is so beautiful.  Its also a place where I’ve worked and led services with my soul partner and master teacher of creativity – Suri.  But more than that, it’s the deep sharing and connecting that is so beautiful; its what’s possible when we dispense with the ‘small talk’ and engage in ‘big talk’ with each other.  This snap-shot is full of spiritual awakenings.  Learning with these adults nourishes my spirit.
Board/committees/lay leadership
I wasn’t actually present for this next snap-shot.  But it’s a group of people with charts and to-do lists in front of them.  The photo may not look very exciting – a group of people sat around a table, talking and planning.  Everyone has something to contribute and everyone is pitching in with their particular skill set and passion.  Some of these people knew each other before this photo was taken. But some are meeting for the first time, or getting to know each other better.  They are planning a big party, and by all accounts, they did an amazing job!  But while I have and continue to thank everyone who had a hand in an incredible gala this year, this kind of scene at our Temple is just a touch-stone for all of the lay leadership that makes things happen around here each and every day. 
Committees who are doing our caring work, visioning the future of our Religious school education, helping with our family-focused celebrations and mitzvah day, making sure that we can pay our bills, and helping our amazing facilities manager, Abby Rohinsky, with all the juggling of activities, tasks and maintenance involved in running a place like this.  And then, our course, there is our Board and Executive.
I’ve worked here under three Presidencies – Richard Krantz, Amy Rich, and Mark Kirsch.  And now Mindy Siegel prepares to take up the reigns.  Each so different in their styles, and each so delightful to partner with in our work here.  Countless people who, even if its just to do one thing one time, step up to offer of themselves to make this holy community happen.  We couldn’t do it without members and their financial support.  But that isn’t enough.  We couldn’t do it without a quality professional staff.  But that isn’t enough. 
Just as in the Torah Moses asks for contributions to build the Mishkan – the place where God will dwell among them – from those whose hearts move them, so those who volunteer of themselves are giving from their hearts to create this place where God dwells among us.  When I look at this snap-shot I am inspired to work harder and offer more too.
Tonight
The final snap-shot hasn’t been taken yet.  I’d like to break with sanctuary protocol just this once and take it now.  Its all of you.  

When I arrived, I sang a short blessing at my installation.  So taken was I by the warm welcome I received when I arrived 6 years ago, and by my sense of genuine caring and community that I felt here, I adapted a blessing that is traditionally said when you see beautiful and amazing things in nature.  The blessing says, ‘Blessed are You Eternal our God Ruler of the Universe, who has such as these in Your world.’  This is a beautiful snap-shot that I see before me, and you have been my blessing.  Baruch Ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-olam, Shecacha lo b’olama, shecacha lo b’olamo.  Amen, Selah.  Thank you.

Blogging Elul 5771: Connected in so many ways

Last night I came home from Congregation B’nai Israel after a long a day uplifted and inspired.  The inspiration was sparked, in large part, by the last thing I saw before leaving the building.  The Board of BIFTY, our Temple Youth Group, had gathered together for an evening of preparation work.  On the surface, mundane and repetitive tasks were the order of the evening – one group were busy stapling flyers and envelopes onto 800 paper bags.  Another group was stuffing envelopes.  So what was so inspiring?

First, the room was full – almost every single member of the board was present, from Freshmen Reps through to the Juniors who are our current leaders.  School has just got up and running, and here they were giving of their time to the hard work that goes on behind the scenes of successful programming and Youth group activity.

Second, the work they were doing, beyond bringing them together to connect with each other, represented the start of a chain, the ends of which we will never know entirely or personally.  The bags they were preparing are bags that they will hand out on Rosh Hashanah to all of our congregants.  Our congregants will bring them back filled with groceries on Yom Kippur, and our Youth Group will empty them into our Connecticut Food Bank Truck and recycle the bags.  What was work, but also shmooze time, and youth group program planning time, will spin off from that one hour last night to hundreds of people receiving food to supplement their family meals in a matter of weeks.  Our youth, through this simple act, will generate a response from hundreds in our congregation, helping them all do something small to make a difference in the lives of hundreds more.

BIFTY loading the CT Food Bank Truck on Yom Kippur last year

The other mailing they were preparing is being sent to every 9th through 12th grader connected to our congregation, inviting them to be a part of this incredible youth group.  Again, in the busy and hectic worlds of our teenagers, I realize that something that might seem so small is in fact huge.  I witnessed the enormous pleasure of members of the board arriving and reconnecting with each other after the Summer, and their enthusiasm to share the experience with others – with weekly programs, regional NFTY NE events (excitement is building for the Levi Leap annual dance on October 3rd), social action activities, and more.  The sense of identity, belonging, and leadership that builds from the social community that our teens create for themselves will spin out to manifest in ways still unknowable, likely to impact the rest of their lives.

Walking into our Youth lounge last night, I left inspired because what I witnessed was an example of lives lived in the context of community.  Perhaps especially inspired because these teenagers instinctively ‘get it’, or certainly recognize the added meaning it brings to their lives and are willing to exert the effort that it takes to create their own community and make a difference in the lives of others.

As we reflect on our day-to-day lives, the ways in which we exert energy, the communities we are a part of, the ways we actively contribute to them, and the ways in which the small acts we do in these contexts spin out to impact the lives of so many others, known and unknown, let the youth leadership of BIFTY inspire us all.  We should never underestimate the power of our actions, and our inactions, to shape the communities and the society of which we are a part.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Let’s do the Time-Warp Again? A Response to Bruce Feiler

This past weekend’s ‘Style’ section in the New York Times contained a couple of thought-provoking Jewish-themed pieces.  I’m leaving the one about Bar mitvah studies on the Web to our Director of Education, Ira Wise, who has written a great blog response here.  The other article that caught my eye was ‘Time-Shifting Holidays’, written by Bruce Feiler.
In this latter piece, Feiler confesses that, having brought the family together for Thanksgiving, which they celebrate a day late, they then conclude ‘…the following day when we celebrate all eight nights ofHanukkah in one madcap afternoon.’

Feiler acknowledges that he has heard the disapproval of a Rabbi who critiques this pragmatic decision because it makes the family dining room the hub of Jewish life instead of Jewish community in the wider sense.  Toward the end of the article, the Rabbi gets to speak again, this time somewhat acknowledging the good intentions of bringing a seasonal Jewish festival into the home at a time when the extended family is present to share the celebration, but encouraging the individual elements of that family to seek out a community where they can also celebrate at the appointed time back in their various home towns.  I rather like that answer (although I might not have been so begrudging in the way I would put it).  

But it seems to me that there is much of importance that is left unsaid.  That a Jewish family wants to take advantage of the hard-to-find opportunities to be together to acknowledge and celebrate the Jewish in their lives is important and admirable.  Jewish organizations and community professionals can be thinking of resources that we might provide to help families make these festival celebrations meaningful in their home settings.  For those who live far from a synagogue community, there are other models of creating Jewish community with non-family members (the chavurah – a smaller, less structured gathering of families from a geographical area – being the most obvious model), and there is value in doing so.

What struck me about Feiler’s piece, and the other piece that highlighted the use of technology to facilitate bar and bat mitzvah training without the need to be part of a Jewish community (although, as Ira shares in his blog, the technology is valuable in many ways within the context of synagogue community life too), is how little was conveyed about the purpose of being part of a larger Jewish community.

Too often I hear critiques of the kind expressed in these articles where the argument ‘but you  are separating yourself from the community’ is presented as a fait a complis – it is assumed that everyone knows what that means and that those who make an active choice not to join a community are either woefully ignorant about the centrality of community in Judaism or are intentionally choosing a scaled-down, privatized (and implied is often ‘selfish’) version of what our faith has to offer.

I assume neither of these things.  I think that articles like these provide wonderful opportunities for synagogue communities and Jewish professionals to think more deeply about what makes being part of a Jewish community meaningful in the lives of Jewish families and individuals.  And then to think about how to get better at conveying this meaning to those who haven’t ‘drunk the Kool-aid’ yet.  That’s not just those who are not yet affiliated with our communities, but also those who are affiliated but have done so with the narrow agenda of giving their children a Jewish education through to the end of middle school and who haven’t been adequately exposed to the far greater potential that exists for their entire family in engaging with the community in a more holistic way – one that will continue to be meaningful when their children have grown up and left home.

How we do that is not something easily conveyed in a brief, sound-bite blog answer.  Its something that is experienced more than described, so the first step is about getting better at sharing the experience, so that others will want to have that experience too.  Congregants who have fallen in love with celebrating, doing social action, comforting, learning, and sharing life’s transitional moments (birth, weddings, bar mitzvah, funerals of loved ones etc.) in the context of community are some of the best ambassadors of meaningful Jewish community life.  I love seeing members of our congregation post something on their Facebook about their anticipation of a community event, or sharing the pleasure of having just returned from one; if I’m seeing it on their wall, then so are all their other Facebook friends.  When that leads to a trail of comments and ‘likes’, the feel good of Jewish community life can become infectious.

I recently heard about a wonderful email sent out by one person to a group of others about our Young Families Chavurah – a great opportunity to start experiencing meaningful Jewish community life while our children are still very young, which meets at B’nai Israel every Shabbat morning from 9.15 a.m.-11 a.m.  This young mother hadn’t had an opportunity to attend with her children since the program started, but she’d heard such great things about it that she was looking forward to her first opportunity to do so, and hoped other families would join her family in tasting this experience for themselves.  There is no flyer and no email that the professional staff of our synagogue could have created to better convey the potential of participating in the chavurah than this one mother’s email to her peers.

We’ve still got plenty of work to do at B’nai Israel, but one of the things we’ve learned is the importance of putting the structures and means of communication in place so that everyone in our community can access community living, and be a part of sharing that experience with others.  This blog is just a little slice of communicating that message and, if you’re looking for your way in to the experience of being a part of a vibrant, Jewish community, I hope we can help you find the gateway that is right for you.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Elul 25. A night of S’lichot to Remember

Last night our S’lichot program and service, held jointly with Beth El of Fairfield and B’nai Torah of Trumbull, proved to be a very powerful experience for all involved.  The first part of the evening consisted of a staged reading of Merle Feld’s play ‘The Gates Are Closing’.  More on that later in the week – it is such a rich and powerful piece that it needs its own blog entry.  The depth of reflection and sharing from members of our joint community following the reading was as much a part of the experience as the play itself.  As one of our colleagues, Rabbi Dan Satlow reflected that, while he may tell his community during the High Holydays that others at nearby synagogues are reciting the same prayers as they are, by coming together and sharing these reflections, and praying together, we felt the reality of that commonality and the partnership of Jewish community extended beyond congregational boundaries as experienced rather than abstract.


The service itself was also a reflection of multiple voices and styles, seamlessly woven together from the contributions of 4 rabbis, 2 cantors and 1 rabbinical student.  It was remarkable because there was almost no advance planning involved in this part, yet the earlier evening program had really opened up the energy and spirit of S’lichot such that each leader could tap into that Source, and the whole that emerged felt like some of the most powerful praying we had all experienced in a while.


Beyond the specifics of the prayers, the melodies, the play, the discussion, bringing three communities together, blending our approaches and contributions, felt in and of itself like the holiest of vehicles on which we could be carried from S’lichot into this week leading up to Rosh Hashanah.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz