(For those of you who haven't noticed yet...)
In the spirit of the new year, I'm happy to announce that Heart to Heart has a new website - LevBLev.org!
But don't worry, just because Heart to Heart is getting a little more organized and official, doesn't mean it's losing any of it's authentic, personal touch - this is just to extend that touch to wider audiences (and to make it look more official for potential organizational partners, donors, etc.)
I'll probably continue my posting there, so feel free to update your bookmarks to LevBLev.org/blog and check out the offering on the site. It'll hopefully be updated in the near future - both the website pages and the blog!
On a side note, if anyone would like to volunteer their services (whether for website design, graphic design, or really anything), I'd love to hear from you!
On another side note, I'm at Brandeis for Sh'mini Atzeret/Simchat Torah/Shabbat! I dunno if any readers are around there or have connections there and it may be too late, but just throwing it out there... In general, I'm going to be traveling around to different colleges pretty frequently so I'll try and let people know somehow so we could meet up! Ahhh, which reminds me, I never updated everyone on what the future plans for Heart to Heart are. Well, the website says some of it, I'll have to do the rest later...
Final thought: There are these "once-a-year Jews", who go to synagogue once a year - usually 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! I think we should make a push to get people to come to synagogues for Simchat Torah - let them see some dancing, some joyous Judaism, some funny shtick, and yes, maybe even some drinking. Especially college kids - they'll feel right at home! I know it's (probably) not the deepest and holiest aspect of Jewish life, but maybe that'll inspire them to come back.
Chag sameach!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Power of “Shabbat Shalom”
Guest post! (written by an anonymous dear friend of mine)
My invitations to Jewish functions are usually very direct. I’ll invite a friend to join me on Friday night for Shabbat dinner or come with me to hear a speaker. And sometimes, even when I can’t make it to something, I’ll send them an invite anyways and encourage them to attend.
Like anything, this direct approach has its advantages and its disadvantages. It gives the person very specific knowledge of the activity, whether it be a dinner or a speaker or whatever else, and can give them the extra push to attend something that they would not have otherwise attended just for the sheer fact that they were personally invited.
On the other hand, such direct discourse can sometimes come off as a bit too aggressive and actually have the opposite effect of what was intended. The invite may come off as a sort of holier-than-thou greeting to try to get them to become more “religious.” As a result, the person may feel intimidated, rather than inspired, by the invitation and respectfully decline in fear of committing to something greater than the one-time dinner or discourse to which they are being invited.
I’ve always been impressed by the markedly warm and welcoming way in which some of my friends invite others to do something Jewish. Yes, it’s important to invite people to meaningful Jewish activities like Shabbat dinners, they say, but it’s equally important to give them the space to make the decision on their own volition rather than feeling like they’re being pulled into something.
This summer, I finally decided to take that approach when I met a student at a social function for Jewish college interns, We had a wonderful conversation about Jewish life on our respective campuses, and afterwards I thought it would be a great idea to invite her to a weekly Shabbat dinner widely attended by Jewish interns during the summer months.
In the middle of writing her a Facebook message on a Friday afternoon in which I planned to invite her to dinner that night, I recalled the idea about giving people space and, rather than sending her a direct invite, I told her how nice it was to have met her earlier in the week and merely ended the message with two simple yet incredibly powerful words as my signature: “Shabbat Shalom.”
Moments later, I received an e-mail from her. She said that it was great to have met me as well, and then, to my amazement, she asked if I had any suggestions for Shabbat dinner that night! I immediately called up Hart -- who as it turned out, was making a H2H meal that night – and told him what had happened. It was a memorable moment and a vivid reminder of the power of the simple two-word greeting we extend to our fellow Jews each week as Friday night draws near: SHABBAT SHALOM. By sincerely sharing these two simple words, we can have a tremendous impact on others. It is a greeting which is inclusive and gives them the space in which to interpret what it means to them at that particular moment in time. Ultimately, It’s about connecting in a real and genuine way, heart to heart, and allowing someone to feel comfortable establishing that connection with you.
Shabbat Shalom.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Being a Part of the Performance
I'm currently in St. Louis, at a big Hillel conference, networking and making my pitch about Heart to Heart. Ton of fun. I recently recieved an email from a friend which I think has such an unbelievably powerful message. This friend is the member of a Jazz band and performs at some local bars from time to time. As a college student, many of the friends whom he is inviting are minors, which recently posed a problem for an upcoming gig. Here's part of the email he sent out:
This is amazing - in order to allow minors to be present for their concert, they are going to include them in the performance! The concept of making the "audience" active participants is such a beautiful and deep way to include people in the experience of which you want them to be a part. I was recently in a session (at a Hillel conference in St. Louis) where they talked about facilitation, and compared it to conducting (highlighted by this fascinating video) There's a lot of meaning behind that - and I think a lot of what I strive to do is to facilitate Jewish experiences and encounters for others, often by directing them and other religious students. But when dealing with all sorts of "stakeholders" or "audience members", it's so important (and often difficult) to remember to include others in the experience, to help them make the moment real for them. For example, to have different people sharing ideas at the Shabbat table (on kiddush, shalom aleichem, etc.), or having everyone act out a part in the Seder. Besides for getting them interested and active, it's about them being part of the experience, not some "rabbi doing things for them", or something external happening around them. Sure, it takes a delicate methodology to facilitate that, but I think it's crucial for people to become committed or invested in something, and you never know what magic will occur! |
Monday, July 26, 2010
Pesach@Penn 2010 - part 3, The Rest of the Chag
I ended up staying in school for the whole chag - I had seen my parents the week before, my siblings were coming to visit me for Shabbat, and it would my last chag at Penn as a student - how could I leave!! People asked me "Hart, are you really staying at Penn for all of Pesach??" You would think that I was being enslaved in Egypt, that's how averse people were to the idea. No, I wanted to stay, and it ended up being incredible (of course), including some of the most amazing tisches of my time in Penn - one tisch in 403 in the dark with 50 people sitting on the floor, 1/2 OCP, 1/4 CJC, and 1/4 Kesher or unaffiliated; another one with 35 people outside on the grass, until it got broken up by the cops at 1am. And they were really good tisches - amazing singing, wonderful people, beautiful words of Torah, and some delectable kosher-for-Passover treats from my grandparents (thanks B&G!).
Probably because there was a small Orthodox crowd, we all got to bond with each other, as well as to meet new people and include them into our community; I probably met over 50 new people over Pesach - and that's just me! In retrospect, what was also amazing was that we did all that (Seders, tisches, shiurim, and ran an amazing community for a week) without the JLIC rabbi and rebbetzin being here. There's something nice about having a rabbi run things, but there's something downright inspiring about running a community yourselves. And you get to do it exactly how you want, down to the tisches, the table arrangements, and the Seders. In some ways, we got a taste of what it's like to go to a college with a small religious community. For all the struggles and challenges it presents, it also affords a lot of amazing opportunities, both within the Orthodox community and in impacting the wider Jewish population. In fact, when Pesach ended and the masses came back, a few students shared with me their frustration and disappointment that we'd have to go back to the old ways. Don't get me wrong - there's something amazing about having such a big and vibrant religious community, but believe it or not, there are times when I'm jealous of those colleges with small communities and no rabbi. (Probably only until I have to be in that community full-time.) Regardless, those 8 days at Penn were some of the most freeing and uplifting as any, and definitely a good way to end my Penn career. Until I come back next year, of course ;)
Probably because there was a small Orthodox crowd, we all got to bond with each other, as well as to meet new people and include them into our community; I probably met over 50 new people over Pesach - and that's just me! In retrospect, what was also amazing was that we did all that (Seders, tisches, shiurim, and ran an amazing community for a week) without the JLIC rabbi and rebbetzin being here. There's something nice about having a rabbi run things, but there's something downright inspiring about running a community yourselves. And you get to do it exactly how you want, down to the tisches, the table arrangements, and the Seders. In some ways, we got a taste of what it's like to go to a college with a small religious community. For all the struggles and challenges it presents, it also affords a lot of amazing opportunities, both within the Orthodox community and in impacting the wider Jewish population. In fact, when Pesach ended and the masses came back, a few students shared with me their frustration and disappointment that we'd have to go back to the old ways. Don't get me wrong - there's something amazing about having such a big and vibrant religious community, but believe it or not, there are times when I'm jealous of those colleges with small communities and no rabbi. (Probably only until I have to be in that community full-time.) Regardless, those 8 days at Penn were some of the most freeing and uplifting as any, and definitely a good way to end my Penn career. Until I come back next year, of course ;)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Pesach@Penn 2010 - Part 2
Besides for the Seders, one of the best aspects of Passover is the eating "kosher for Passover". "What?!", you're probably asking me, "Isn't that the most annoying part?" Well, what I love most is how everyone does it - Jews who don't keep kosher or rarely identify as Jewish will be adamant about keeping "kosher for Passover". I once had someone ask me if his turkey and cheese salad was "kosher for passover" - I guess they're different laws and as long as there's no leaven in there, he was doing alright. I'm not sure why, but it's great!
At Penn, people come out of the woodworks to eat at Hillel on Pesach; I saw some people who I hadn't seen since last Pesach, and some people who I had never seen. Many of the people who I met for the first time at the Seder came back to Hillel over the next few days and we've made sure to say 'hello' to them and reconnect with them. One of the best practices we tried instituting was in arranging our seating: Over yom tov, those who were at shacharit would come down to eat after prayers and we were often the first and only ones there. Normally, we would fill 2 or 3 tables ourselves - partially out of convenience and partially out of design. Because invariably, half an hour later, random people would start trickling in to eat lunch, likely in between classes or perhaps just getting out of bed. We would be sitting in our nice, yom tov-clothes and trying to have a nice yom tov-meal, and in would come these random kids - who probably didn't know what yom tov was, who just wanted to eat "kosher for passover". And so we'd end up sitting at our tables, they'd end up sitting at their tables (or by themselves) and never the twain shall meet.
I had an idea. Instead of all sitting together and filling up our tables, what if we spread out and filled 5 or 6 tables halfway, leaving half the table empty. When the other students would come in, either they'd join on their own or we could invite them to sit with us. And that's what we did - and people were usually overjoyed to sit with us, talk with us, and to celebrate Pesach with us. They were also then able to hear kiddush with us, which is a much better and more organic method than getting up on a chair to make kiddush for everyone in the room (which some people tried doing). By making one little change, I and others were able to make so many new friends and helped make the environment a little more welcoming and friendly for everyone.
At Penn, people come out of the woodworks to eat at Hillel on Pesach; I saw some people who I hadn't seen since last Pesach, and some people who I had never seen. Many of the people who I met for the first time at the Seder came back to Hillel over the next few days and we've made sure to say 'hello' to them and reconnect with them. One of the best practices we tried instituting was in arranging our seating: Over yom tov, those who were at shacharit would come down to eat after prayers and we were often the first and only ones there. Normally, we would fill 2 or 3 tables ourselves - partially out of convenience and partially out of design. Because invariably, half an hour later, random people would start trickling in to eat lunch, likely in between classes or perhaps just getting out of bed. We would be sitting in our nice, yom tov-clothes and trying to have a nice yom tov-meal, and in would come these random kids - who probably didn't know what yom tov was, who just wanted to eat "kosher for passover". And so we'd end up sitting at our tables, they'd end up sitting at their tables (or by themselves) and never the twain shall meet.
I had an idea. Instead of all sitting together and filling up our tables, what if we spread out and filled 5 or 6 tables halfway, leaving half the table empty. When the other students would come in, either they'd join on their own or we could invite them to sit with us. And that's what we did - and people were usually overjoyed to sit with us, talk with us, and to celebrate Pesach with us. They were also then able to hear kiddush with us, which is a much better and more organic method than getting up on a chair to make kiddush for everyone in the room (which some people tried doing). By making one little change, I and others were able to make so many new friends and helped make the environment a little more welcoming and friendly for everyone.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Heart to Heart in the Kiruv World
In the spirit of תשעה באב, here's a video from Project Inspire which I think you might find interesting, and perhaps even inspiring... (full disclosure: I'm featured in it!)
(full video here)
For the record (and I should probably write a whole separate post about this), I don't like to call it "kiruv", but rather loving people (hence the name "Heart to Heart"). As Rav Kook famously said,
(full video here)
For the record (and I should probably write a whole separate post about this), I don't like to call it "kiruv", but rather loving people (hence the name "Heart to Heart"). As Rav Kook famously said,
"If we were destroyed, and the world with us, due to baseless hatred (sinat chinam), then we shall rebuild ourselves, and the world with us, with baseless love (ahavat chinam)." (Orot HaKodesh III:324)I saw a line from Rav Amital zt"l (which also appears in Rav Kook's writings) qualifying that oft-quoted claim: There is no such thing as undeserved love -- everyone deserves it. It's our job to discover why and how to share that love with others.
Friday, July 2, 2010
DC meets Kentucky, part 5
Oh man. So I always tell people that there are pros and cons of the Shabbatons that we go on to other schools. The cons are that it's harder to find people and harder to stay in touch and build relationships, which are some of the essential components of "Heart to Heart". The pros are the unique and memorable experiences, and the opportunity to meet and share Judaism with people from totally different places. To counter some of the cons, there are technology and other useful tools - like facebook, which could be used for both a) finding people and b) staying in touch and building a relationship.
When we were planning out trip to Kentucky 18 months ago, we ran into some of these same issues and solutions, with some great help from the One above. In particular, the story of how I found one girl from Transylvania University was really amazing - and the whole thing ended up working out really well. (It was also one of the clearest instances of the Hand of God that I've seen.) I don't know if I ever shared this, but ever since that Shabbat we've become friends and stayed in touch, occasionally facebook chatting - about life, hockey, Ketucky and of course, about Judaism. (As an avid fan of Prince of Egypt, she LOVED our video!) She's probably the most religious and Jewishly knowledgeable student in Kentucky and I was encouraging her to get involved, perhaps run some Shabbat dinners for the other students, especially the many who had expressed interest when we came. She said she was honored and really appreciated it and would think about it, but that its really hard.
Fast forward to two days ago, when Kener invited me to dinner at Eli's; he also said he was bringing a friend. Turns out this friend was a Jewish kid from Penn who lived in Maryland and Kener had randomly met up with that afternoon and brought along for dinner. Great guy, we had a great time at dinner - and so when I got home that night, I went to friend him on facebook. That's when I saw that one of our mutual friends was that girl from Transylvania/Kentucky!!! Turns out they were from the same city in Maryland and went to the same high school (and Sunday school). So I sent her a message, asking her how camp was (which I saw she was in by stalking her fb wall) and telling her that I met a former classmate of hers in DC. She wrote back a while later that camp was in fact good, but that for the weekend, she was coming to DC!! It was for unfortunate circumstances (her brother is having surgery), but she wanted to know if I wanted to meet up over the weekend! Of course I said yes, and after an exchange of text messages, we're set to meet up this weekend. Maybe I'll even invite her to the Georgetown Chabad, where I plan on going tonight for Shabbat dinner.
The point is that you never know the effects of your actions, and the relationships you build are some of the most important assets that you have. Even "shot-in-the-dark" Shabbatons can make profound impacts and build lasting connections, assuming you have the right intentions and you get some help from Above.
I'll let you know how it goes this weekend :) Shabbat shalom y'all!
p.s. Check out my dvar torah on this week's haftorah (it's from last year, but probably just as relevant)
When we were planning out trip to Kentucky 18 months ago, we ran into some of these same issues and solutions, with some great help from the One above. In particular, the story of how I found one girl from Transylvania University was really amazing - and the whole thing ended up working out really well. (It was also one of the clearest instances of the Hand of God that I've seen.) I don't know if I ever shared this, but ever since that Shabbat we've become friends and stayed in touch, occasionally facebook chatting - about life, hockey, Ketucky and of course, about Judaism. (As an avid fan of Prince of Egypt, she LOVED our video!) She's probably the most religious and Jewishly knowledgeable student in Kentucky and I was encouraging her to get involved, perhaps run some Shabbat dinners for the other students, especially the many who had expressed interest when we came. She said she was honored and really appreciated it and would think about it, but that its really hard.
Fast forward to two days ago, when Kener invited me to dinner at Eli's; he also said he was bringing a friend. Turns out this friend was a Jewish kid from Penn who lived in Maryland and Kener had randomly met up with that afternoon and brought along for dinner. Great guy, we had a great time at dinner - and so when I got home that night, I went to friend him on facebook. That's when I saw that one of our mutual friends was that girl from Transylvania/Kentucky!!! Turns out they were from the same city in Maryland and went to the same high school (and Sunday school). So I sent her a message, asking her how camp was (which I saw she was in by stalking her fb wall) and telling her that I met a former classmate of hers in DC. She wrote back a while later that camp was in fact good, but that for the weekend, she was coming to DC!! It was for unfortunate circumstances (her brother is having surgery), but she wanted to know if I wanted to meet up over the weekend! Of course I said yes, and after an exchange of text messages, we're set to meet up this weekend. Maybe I'll even invite her to the Georgetown Chabad, where I plan on going tonight for Shabbat dinner.
The point is that you never know the effects of your actions, and the relationships you build are some of the most important assets that you have. Even "shot-in-the-dark" Shabbatons can make profound impacts and build lasting connections, assuming you have the right intentions and you get some help from Above.
I'll let you know how it goes this weekend :) Shabbat shalom y'all!
p.s. Check out my dvar torah on this week's haftorah (it's from last year, but probably just as relevant)
Friday, June 25, 2010
Jewish Empowerment
Ahhh, so much to write about - speaking tour 2010... Israel in general... next year... DC... I'll get to it all soon, I promise. For now, one quick story which happened yesterday, which I must share.
To catch you all up briefly, I'm working this summer in Washington DC with/for Hillel International, as a summer intern. (Though in reality, I'm planning for next year and how to take Heart to Heart national.) Anyway, so I was talking with some of the other interns in the office - they're all college students, involved in their local Hillels, interested in engagement and Hillel's strategy, etc. I started telling them about Heart to Heart and what I've been starting and trying to spread, including some of the programs we run (e.g. Shabbat dinners, Hebrew classes, etc.) One of the girls asked me where I run the dinners, to which I responded (in typical Third Space language) - in my dorm room, in friends' apartment, off-campus houses, etc. "So which rabbi runs the meals?", she asked me. I was stunned - that thought had never even occurred to me, that I had to have a rabbi run everything. "Well, none.", I answered, "We do it ourselves, me, my friends." "What?!", she responded, "So who explains things? Who talks when everyone is eating?" As I tried to explain how the meals work, the other girl turned to her and said "Don't you see? We've been thinking about it all wrong."
When I told the story to my mom, she pointed out something interesting. For people who didn't grow up in religious homes, their only perception of Shabbat and of ritual Jewish observance was in the synagogue or in school or in a Chabad house, with the rabbi telling everyone what to do. Many people don't know, or didn't even think to learn, that they could do it themselves - they can run their own Shabbat dinners, teach their own Judaism, forge their own paths. Much of institutional Judaism's failing is the lack of empowerment - relying exclusively (not that any reliance is bad, but exclusive reliance is problematic) on rabbis and others, thus becoming lazy, ignorant and apathetic about their Judaism. People need to realize that they can do it themselves, they can help mold their own Jewish identities and create the Jewish future they so desire. It's not so simple and it takes many things, but the first thing is realizing that the Gd-given power rests within you.
To catch you all up briefly, I'm working this summer in Washington DC with/for Hillel International, as a summer intern. (Though in reality, I'm planning for next year and how to take Heart to Heart national.) Anyway, so I was talking with some of the other interns in the office - they're all college students, involved in their local Hillels, interested in engagement and Hillel's strategy, etc. I started telling them about Heart to Heart and what I've been starting and trying to spread, including some of the programs we run (e.g. Shabbat dinners, Hebrew classes, etc.) One of the girls asked me where I run the dinners, to which I responded (in typical Third Space language) - in my dorm room, in friends' apartment, off-campus houses, etc. "So which rabbi runs the meals?", she asked me. I was stunned - that thought had never even occurred to me, that I had to have a rabbi run everything. "Well, none.", I answered, "We do it ourselves, me, my friends." "What?!", she responded, "So who explains things? Who talks when everyone is eating?" As I tried to explain how the meals work, the other girl turned to her and said "Don't you see? We've been thinking about it all wrong."
When I told the story to my mom, she pointed out something interesting. For people who didn't grow up in religious homes, their only perception of Shabbat and of ritual Jewish observance was in the synagogue or in school or in a Chabad house, with the rabbi telling everyone what to do. Many people don't know, or didn't even think to learn, that they could do it themselves - they can run their own Shabbat dinners, teach their own Judaism, forge their own paths. Much of institutional Judaism's failing is the lack of empowerment - relying exclusively (not that any reliance is bad, but exclusive reliance is problematic) on rabbis and others, thus becoming lazy, ignorant and apathetic about their Judaism. People need to realize that they can do it themselves, they can help mold their own Jewish identities and create the Jewish future they so desire. It's not so simple and it takes many things, but the first thing is realizing that the Gd-given power rests within you.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
"Who's that good looking guitar player?"
Having done a lot of these "Heart to Heart" Shabbat dinners (over 40!), there are many things I've learned - some of which I came across by accident but which have proven to be very helpful. Here I'll share one such practice:
One of the best things about the meals is that there's no set script - after explaining shalom aleichem, kiddush, and making motzi, we just go with the flow. And it always works, conversations spontaneously occur, people meet everyone around them and a certain level of comfort pervades the atmosphere. But it's always nice to help that process along, and hence the invention of ice breakers - where everyone goes around the table and introduces themselves as well as something about themselves. The big dilemma is always what should the ice breaker be? Something serious? Something funny? Something original? Something Jewish?
Something I've started using is "What's your favorite YouTube video?". I think it's great for a number of reasons, all of which I've seen borne out. Firstly, because everyone watches YouTube - this shows a common cultural language and is something over which everyone can bond. I don't know if people actually think that Orthodox/religious students don't watch YouTube or have their fingers on the pulses of pop culture, but this sure dispels that notion. The best is when people affirm each other's choices ("Oh man, I love that one too!"), instantly giving people a sense of validation and belonging. It also jump starts conversations, and gets people comfortable talking and sharing with everyone else at the table. Also, people often choose funny videos, leading to spontaneous and contageous laughter. Some people choose serious and important videos, which often lead to meaningful conversations. People's choices also tell a lot about them - their interests, their sense of humor, how much time they waste online, etc - which is exactly what you want out of the ice-breaker. Other than breaking the ice.
Another hard question is how to follow-up with people - you don't want to make it sound like you're required to send them a form-email saying "Thank you for coming." You want to make it real; you want to make it personal. What I started doing was emailing everyone from the meal with a link to my favorite video, as well as a line or two saying how wonderful it was sharing Shabbat with them. Then I'd get someone else to reply-all with their video, and if it catches on, you can start off a whole little email chain. (The dynamics for that to happen are a whole other story.) Once when we did it, someone replied that she had such a good time and wanted to do it again soon! So simple, yet so powerful.
The video I often pick is this one:
Because:
One of the best things about the meals is that there's no set script - after explaining shalom aleichem, kiddush, and making motzi, we just go with the flow. And it always works, conversations spontaneously occur, people meet everyone around them and a certain level of comfort pervades the atmosphere. But it's always nice to help that process along, and hence the invention of ice breakers - where everyone goes around the table and introduces themselves as well as something about themselves. The big dilemma is always what should the ice breaker be? Something serious? Something funny? Something original? Something Jewish?
Something I've started using is "What's your favorite YouTube video?". I think it's great for a number of reasons, all of which I've seen borne out. Firstly, because everyone watches YouTube - this shows a common cultural language and is something over which everyone can bond. I don't know if people actually think that Orthodox/religious students don't watch YouTube or have their fingers on the pulses of pop culture, but this sure dispels that notion. The best is when people affirm each other's choices ("Oh man, I love that one too!"), instantly giving people a sense of validation and belonging. It also jump starts conversations, and gets people comfortable talking and sharing with everyone else at the table. Also, people often choose funny videos, leading to spontaneous and contageous laughter. Some people choose serious and important videos, which often lead to meaningful conversations. People's choices also tell a lot about them - their interests, their sense of humor, how much time they waste online, etc - which is exactly what you want out of the ice-breaker. Other than breaking the ice.
Another hard question is how to follow-up with people - you don't want to make it sound like you're required to send them a form-email saying "Thank you for coming." You want to make it real; you want to make it personal. What I started doing was emailing everyone from the meal with a link to my favorite video, as well as a line or two saying how wonderful it was sharing Shabbat with them. Then I'd get someone else to reply-all with their video, and if it catches on, you can start off a whole little email chain. (The dynamics for that to happen are a whole other story.) Once when we did it, someone replied that she had such a good time and wanted to do it again soon! So simple, yet so powerful.
The video I often pick is this one:
Because:
- I really do love it!
- I'm in it!
- I get to tell people how it happened: an impromptu group of people joining together to celebrate Judaism in a joyous, musical, magical and communal manner - not unlike what Shabbat dinner itself is.
- And because it's Jewish, but also cool and actually pretty good. And pretty popular - over 1,500 hits!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Longing for the Beit Hamikdash
Two year ago from this Shabbat, I helped Drexel AEPi run a Bar Mitzvah. I'll have to tell that story another time, it's too good - and long. But in preparing for it, I was helping some of the brothers learn to read Hebrew and lain. I was teaching them one of the pesukim in this week's parsha and they asked me to translate it. It happened to be about stoning people who worship Ov and Yidoni - not exactly the most politically correct topic, nor one that people find most attractive about Judaism. But what the heck, I figured, and I told them exactly what it meant. "Woah!", they exclaimed, "That's awesome! Do we still get to do that?" I told them no, that since the destruction of the Temple a few thousand years ago we no longer have the judicial authority to punish people the way the Torah prescribes. To which one of them responded: "Man, I wish we had the Temple back."
Out of all the times we say in davening or zemirot that we wish we had the Beit Hamikdash back - how many times did we actually mean it? Here was someone who didn't know much - but at that moment, on his own, he really meant it when he wished for the Beit Hamikdash. Our people never cease to amaze me...
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Pesach@Penn 2010 - part 1
Pesach. Ahh, where to start...
After last year's grand successes, we figured we'd do it again but on a larger scale, maybe even try some advertising. First we got a website, and then came the video :) (huge thanks to Kiderboy, Jordan, Treiger, and everyone else who made it happen)
We even made it onto UnderTheButton (Penn's blog) and some random Israeli blog!
I think it paid off - they were ridiculously packed:
7 Seders, 180 people the first night; 4 Seders, 100 people the second night!
Perhaps most importantly is the students who led the Seders - 25 students who volunteered to be a part of the effort. Double what we had last year, these were students who willingly (or unwillingly) gave up on the comfort of their home in order to be at Penn, leading Seders for their less affiliated Jewish peers. It was a great mix of student leaders, from the Orthodox and Conservative Communities at Penn, Brandeis and UChicago (though most were OCP), some more religious, some cooler, some on the fringes of the OCP. They all deserve a lot of credit for spending time and effort planning, learning, arranging sessions, breaking into groups, and mentally preparing for the Seders. [Side note: as much as the whole process was intense, important, and meaningful, it was also fun and enjoyable. At least for me :)]
So the Seders - they were all amazing, of course. Even though I could tell how they were by just being there and feeling it, sometimes you have to objectively measure greatness - not an easy task, but I'll try.
Most of the attendees were Jewishly uninvolved or marginally involved students - some were friends of ours and some were random walk-ins [but they soon became our friends ;)] Most of the Seder ran until 11 or 12, with most participants staying for 3, 4, or 5 hours or until the building closed. One Seder lasted 'til 1:30 AM, getting some late reinforcements from a dance team whose practice ended at midnight!
And the content: we had meaningful conversations about the relevance of freedom and slavery in our lives, singing of Am Yisrael Chai, discussions about the meaning of religion, reenactments of the plagues and Chad Gadya, dancing on the tables, costumes and props, etc. And it wasn't just the leaders - everyone was engaged, participated, raised relevant points, sang along, acted things out - probably more as the night went on (and the wine kept flowing). One girl who had recently begun learning Hebrew (she started in February with 'aleph, bet...') meticulously read one of the paragraphs at the Seder in Hebrew all on her own. An Israeli guy sitting next to her was shocked; I was proud :)
By the end, some people were thanking us for the best Seder of their life. One student later said that after hearing and participating in discussions about the meaning of the holiday and its rituals, they decided to try and keep Passover this year (in whatever way they meant). Another guy ended up coming to a learning session that one of us hosted in our house over the last days of chag (more about the rest of Pesach later). At the end of one of the Seders, an uninvolved student asked about Shabbat services and ended up coming to Hillel for services that Friday night for the first time. After services, he stayed for dinner and ended up back in my room for a tisch until 1 in the morning, leaving with a big smile on his face and a promise that he'd be back.
If you don't call that a success, I'm not sure what is :)
People already told me they told their parents they're staying again at Penn to lead Seders next year :) Hopefully we'll all be in Jerusalem but if not, I know where I'll be.
People already told me they told their parents they're staying again at Penn to lead Seders next year :) Hopefully we'll all be in Jerusalem but if not, I know where I'll be.
Monday, January 4, 2010
"What Hurts the Most, Is Being So Close"
When Barack Obama was running for President, one of the things America found most mesmerizing and admirable in his campaign was how the youth got involved and how they really cared. They went out, near and far, knocking on Americans' doors, speaking to pedestrians, inviting them neighbors to rallies, asking them to sign up to vote for Obama. 'Wow!', the world exclaimed, 'These people really care about something! Isn't that incredible?!' And these Americans responded - Obama won; the youth had made a difference.
Now if you suggest to someone to invite their neighbors/co-workers/classmates to a Shabbat dinner, or ask if they want to find out more about Judaism... People will jump at your throat like you're from Mars - 'What?! Are you crazy?! Do I look like a nut-job proselytizer? That's invasion of their privacy! People would never respond to that!'
(from R' Dan Smokler)
On another note, there is a certain project that entails college students running Pesach Seders for Jews in Ukraine and the FSU - a very worthwhile and popular endeavor (see here, here, here, etc.). But what often goes unnoticed are the hundreds of spiritually and religiously starving Jews just around the corner from these very students' homes and schools. Sure it's cooler and crazier, more exotic and more exciting, but is it that much more impacting? Imagine American Jewish college students leading Seders not for elderly Russian Jews but for... American Jewish college students! They'll even speak the same language! Imagine the connections that could be forged, the meaningful conversations that could be had, and the ease there would be in relating to one another! (see for yourself here)
I think the issue common to both scenarios is people's fear of dealing with things that are too close to them. Often it is easier for people to talk about some rote debate on politics than about to Whom we pray every day. Maybe people are more self-conscious about their religion, and more afraid of dealing with it and truly facing these issues themselves (not that any encounter with a non-religious Jews will necessarily bring to light all of one's worst religious fears, but it could). Also, it's easier to talk with someone who, merely due to their language and culture is at a distance from you, then with a peer, for whom lack of communication cannot be blamed on language barriers. It is comforting having a barrier between you and the 'other', between you and what really matters to you, as opposed to having a real "heart to heart", which takes a lot of comfort and courage.
Sharing something close to you with someone close to you, who is different than you: more difficult- yes, but more rewarding and impacting - definitely.
Now if you suggest to someone to invite their neighbors/co-workers/classmates to a Shabbat dinner, or ask if they want to find out more about Judaism... People will jump at your throat like you're from Mars - 'What?! Are you crazy?! Do I look like a nut-job proselytizer? That's invasion of their privacy! People would never respond to that!'
(from R' Dan Smokler)
On another note, there is a certain project that entails college students running Pesach Seders for Jews in Ukraine and the FSU - a very worthwhile and popular endeavor (see here, here, here, etc.). But what often goes unnoticed are the hundreds of spiritually and religiously starving Jews just around the corner from these very students' homes and schools. Sure it's cooler and crazier, more exotic and more exciting, but is it that much more impacting? Imagine American Jewish college students leading Seders not for elderly Russian Jews but for... American Jewish college students! They'll even speak the same language! Imagine the connections that could be forged, the meaningful conversations that could be had, and the ease there would be in relating to one another! (see for yourself here)
I think the issue common to both scenarios is people's fear of dealing with things that are too close to them. Often it is easier for people to talk about some rote debate on politics than about to Whom we pray every day. Maybe people are more self-conscious about their religion, and more afraid of dealing with it and truly facing these issues themselves (not that any encounter with a non-religious Jews will necessarily bring to light all of one's worst religious fears, but it could). Also, it's easier to talk with someone who, merely due to their language and culture is at a distance from you, then with a peer, for whom lack of communication cannot be blamed on language barriers. It is comforting having a barrier between you and the 'other', between you and what really matters to you, as opposed to having a real "heart to heart", which takes a lot of comfort and courage.
Sharing something close to you with someone close to you, who is different than you: more difficult- yes, but more rewarding and impacting - definitely.
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