Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Sacrifices of Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur is the Super Bowl Sunday of Jewish Holidays - even people who aren't regulars or aren't affiliated in any way come to services on Yom Kippur. Which is probably the worst idea - their one exposure to Judaism is a day of fasting, boring prayer, no sexual activity, and more boring prayer. No wonder they don't come back for a whole year.

So how can one use this opportunity to give people an interesting and meaningful experience, something that might inspire them to come back again or to explore more about this thing in their life called Judaism? We decided that we would run explanatory services for Yom Kippur night. They would be the same, traditional services that we all know and love, but with explanations - not just the meaning of the words, but why we say them, what intentions then connote and how they're relevant to our personal lives.

With help from Joan and Michael G. (and NJOP's slogan) we made these really cool palm cards.


Thanks to Matt, ArielF, and others, we gave out nearly 500 of them on Locust Walk during the week leading up to YK. Of course, Hillel neglected to include us on their banner/informational flyers listing all the services, so we had to do all the advertising ourselves. Then Danny and I set to work planning out what we would say, how we would lead the services, and how it would actually happen. It took a bit of work, reading, thinking, talking with R' Lynn, and discussing, but after much planning, we were ready. I asked some people from the OCP to come - to lend their voices, to be another body, and to be a friendly and helping face for the unfamiliar people who came. Understandably, many turned down the offer - "Hart, this sounds great. But it's Yom Kippur, I can't give up my own Yom Kippur davening for this".

And so, Yom Kippur night, as everyone headed to their respective services, I headed to the 3rd floor of Hillel/Steinhardt Hall. We had piles of transliterated interlinear machzorim, piles of kippot, and sheets of reading materials. And people began to come. Some were OCP people who volunteered to help out or who wanted to experience it themselves. Some were people I had recently had over at one of my Shabbat dinners. And some were strangers, people I'd never, or barely ever seen before. By the end, there were over 50 people (although surprisingly many more guys than girls - anyone wanna venture a guess why?). We started by breaking into discussion groups, setting a comfortable stage before filing back into seats for the actual prayers. And as I started leading Kol Nidre, I couldn't help but notice the request we sing 3 times right before we start "אני מתירים להתפלל עם העברינים" - "we grant permission to pray with the sinners". What? Before the holiest of days we take a moment to welcome in all pray-ers, even the sinners among us? In some ways, it addresses all of us for we all have sinned, or as some translators prefer, we are all ephemeral. But the liturgy clearly does go out of its way, basing itself on a gemara which says that any public day of fasting and prayer that doesn't include the full gamut of practitioners of Judaism, doesn't count. Why? Because as we approach God on the day of Judgment and we work to rebuild our commitment and intimacy with Him, we are coming as part of God's people. And God's people includes all of His people, not just you or the people you like, but all who are part of our family, whether they play the part or not. And for God to show His love for us, should not we first show our love for our fellow brethren (and that doesn't just mean our roommates or siblings with whom we've fought). And so, especially on the Holiest day, we come to God with everything we got, and specifically call out and invite in those who might not have been in synagogue in a year.

With that spirit in mind, we went into the prayers. There were some meditations, some group singing, some role-playing, and some good old praying. At the end, people came up to us and told us this was their most meaningful davening in recent memory, or in their 4 years at Penn, or in their life. One person, whom we had hold the Torah for Kol Nidre, said with tears practically in his eyes that this was the first time he touched a Torah since his Bar mitzvah - and it meant the world to him. And the Orthodox people also came up to me and told me this was the most beautiful and inspiring davening they had ever been at. I can take only minimal credit for this, as it was Danny's wonderful, uplifting, and beautiful words which helped lead everyone to a relevant and explained davening.

Afterward, people would come up to me and say "Hart, that was so nice that you sacrificed your Yom Kippur davening to lead explanatory services for non-religious people". Sacrificed? Are they kidding me? Because we invited non-observant people to pray with us in fulfillment of the very words which we say? Because we took time to understand and think about the words we were about to say? Hmm, I'm just not sure. All I know is the korbanot in the Beit Hamikdash weren't the only Yom Kippur sacrifice that didn't happen this year (oh snap!). But seriously, this should hopefully be a year of continued connection between all of the Jewish people, among ourselves and to our Father in Heaven

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Hello! My Name is Shabbat

I want to tell you about something we recently did at Penn - and which you can all do as well. Every fall, Penn has an activities fair, at which around 300 groups set up booths on Locust Walk (the main college thoroughfare) and thousands of people walk by, looking for things in which to get involved. There are political groups, fraternities, sports teams, performing arts groups, and religious groups - including your classic kiruv organizations. So I set up a table on Locust Walk (I registered too late, but they let me bring my own table) and I made it look like a Shabbat table - a nice white tablecloth, two silver candlesticks and lit candles, a challah board + 2 challot + a challah cover, a silver kiddush cup filled with grape juice, and little shot glasses of grape juice alongside it, and a plate of rugelach. At the foot of the table I had a big sign that said "HELLO! MY NAME IS SHABBAT", kinduv like a big nametag. Then I stood there, smiled, and waited.

And people came over - hundreds of people, mostly people I've never seen before. They would pass by, see the table, smile, see me smiling, walk over and we'd start talking. They'd ask what this was, and I'd say "It's a Shabbat table". Curious, they'd ask what my group was, and I'd say "It's just a bunch of students inviting other students for Shabbat means - old friends and new friends, like you!". Excited, some of them would ask how this is different then Hillel, as they went there once, or were thinking of maybe going there, and I'd say "I love Hillel and go there sometimes but it could be a little overwhelming. This is just a bunch of students in a more intimate, friendly atmosphere, sharing Shabbat for free on different places around campus - in the Quad, campus apartment, off-campus houses, etc." Then I'd say that if they wanted to get invited to meals, or find out more, they could sign up (I had a pad of paper and a pen).




In about four hours, I got over 115 people to sign, probably >90 of whom were not observant (and only 3 non-Jews). Most were freshmen, some of them were upperclassman; one guy said he was a senior, Jewish, never been to Shabbat before in college but thought this was the best idea ever and wants to come. We also had magnets which say "Wanna join us for a free, student-led Shabbat Dinner? Email us at freeshabbatdinners@gmail.com" (that email address forwards to me) and we gave out nearly 200 magnets. Now we just have to invite these people to meals  - which are easy, free, and numerous people in Orthodox Community at Penn have already told me they'd love to help.

The whole thing (not counting the magnets) cost around $25 - which is almost nothing! And 4 hours of smiling, which actually made my week, and went by way too fast. I don't know what your colleges have and how you could adapt this, but if you could, you really should. It's such a great way to meet people and invite them to meals - and it's not weird/proselytizing/intrusive at all - people will come to you if you're friendly and welcoming.

If you need any help or want to find out more, don't hesitate to ask!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

End of the Summer; Beginning of a New Year

I want to add a comment to this post - remember they guy from the end of the story? Who said it was his best Shabbat ever and started learning and loving zemirot? So the day after I posted the story, when walking home from work (I happened to go a different way that day) I saw that guy standing on the street corner! He happened to be there waiting for someone else, and he was just as surprised and happy to see me. We caught up a bit from the summer, and reminisced of our good times last year. He told me that he's been learning harmonica and one of the first songs he learned was "Kah Ribon", and that he was looking forward to some Jewish jamming when we got back to Penn. He also said he was talking with another friend (Jewish, but not observant, whom I met when he began coming to Hillel) and they both were wishing they could come to my house for Shabbat over the summer! I told him that they really should've, and that next summer I'm making them come, even if they don't build up the courage to ask. After speaking for a while, his other friend came and we parted ways, promising to meet up when we got to Penn.

The reason I wanted to share this story (even though I'm reluctant to share personal stories) is because that is why I do all of this. That's why I'm telling these stories, writing guides, making brochures, going on speaking tours, fund-raising, etc - just so I can meet and become friend with people like this, and so other people will do so too. That's all I really care about and all that I want to do, give people meaningful, personal connections to Judaism and other Jews. Which is why I'm excited to get back to school tomorrow, so that after all this talking, thinking, and planning, I could go and meet new people, reconnect with old friends and share some good ol' Judaism with Jews. That's what it's really all about, and there's nothing better :) So yeah, I'm a bit nervous and feeling pressured about the coming year - but in a good way, with all of its potential and knowing that with God's help, things will only continue to grow.