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, 
"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)

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.

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:
  • 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!
So when I send out the email to everyone after shabbat, I title it "Who's that good looking guitar player?" ;)

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.

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.

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.