Outreach: Tearing Apart Families on Both Sides of the Holy Spectrum

from http://www.imamother.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=36648&highlight=kiruv

I know that there are many people who aren't thrilled that I'm publicly writing against orthodox outreach. Dishonest attempts to cause non-orthodox Jews to leave their current lifestyles and become orthodox are, at best, disrespectful to those Jews and their families. At worst, kiruv can cause irreparable damage to families for years at a time, sometimes for life. Good friends of mine have told me horror stories of their own children getting caught up in irresponsible Jewish outreach and breaking all ties with their families, believing that this new lifestyle requires that they isolate themselves within the orthodox community. While not all outreach professionals outrightly encourage young people to break familial ties, they all promote a lifestyle which, through its stringences alone, subtly pushes people to alienate, or become alienated from, their families. People who are new to religious observance may feel pressured to do everything perfectly and may not have the ability to balance their secular upbringing and family with their new religious lifestyle. In an effort to please their rabbis, mentors, and God, many inadvertently push their secular friends and family away.
     That brings me to the image that I've included with this post. (Click on image to enlarge or read the original post here .) I took this from Imamother, an online forum for married orthodox Jewish women, from a thread entitled "Who Here is Shrewd and Creative? Need to Arrange Kiruv." (Don't even get me started on the use of the word shrewd.) This particular thread is about a woman who wants to be mekarev (bring closer to God in an effort to become more religiously observant) a young woman and is looking for ways to introduce her to someone who might inspire her to become orthodox. (I'm only commenting on the post in the image, but feel free to read the original post. Just to make this easier, everything in blue was stated by "Mummiedearest" in response to the block in white, which is another commenter quoting and responding to a different set of text posted by Mummiedearest. In the quoted material, I included the definitions of Hebrew terminology in parentheses following the italicized word.) Although this conversation is from 2007, I think a lot of what Mummiedearest states is still relevant.
     Mummiedearest, an orthodox woman, states:

I think we have to realize that we are not superior to non-religious Jews.... Why is it that so many baalei teshuva (newly religious Jews) have a hard time fitting in to frum (religious) communities? I get it, let's be mekarev them and once they're frum enough and don't need kiruv, we can shun them with a clear conscience. Kiruv is NOT a project, hobby, or career. Kiruv should be done out of ahavas yisroel (love for fellow Jews), not because of a superiority complex.1

She seems to be appalled by people with little or no experience turning non-religious Jews into their pet projects and by those involved in outreach thinking they're better than everyone else. Even though she doesn't think that all outreach is bad, the fact that she recognizes some of it as problematic is good. It gives me hope that maybe more orthodox people will realize that not every non-orthodox Jew is fair game in what often seems to be a recruitment hunt.
     The following quote is my favorite. While Mummiedearest and I would probably have some key differences in our feelings about God, she makes a great point regarding those who ended up religious despite that never being their intention:

I know people who were pushed to become frum, became frum, married, had kids, and finally said enough. They weren't ready, felt pressured, and eventually left their families to fend for themselves. We have to think of people as people, not chessed (kindness) projects, not "nebuchs,"(poor, unfortunate people,)  not "badly in need of kiruv." Yes, a person's soul wants the closeness to G-d. Absolutely. But the person has to recognize it.2

 While I would disagree on "what a person's soul wants," I have to hand it to Mummiedearest. She's right on point when she states that "the person has to recognize it." A major problem I have with Jewish outreach is that kiruv agents assume that everyone, whether they realize it or not, yearns to be religious. But Mummiedearest, an orthodox woman--notice how I keep stressing her background, feels that the person him/herself needs to recognize this need within him/herself. She doesn't think outreach should be done deceptively and even mentions later on that a person will ask questions if interested and will find her own mentor if she desires one. Mummiedearest seems to see the big picture, the reality of what happens to people who are pushed into religious observance and realize later on that they are totally miserable in this lifestyle. What kiruv professionals often don't realize is that experiences like these tend to turn people off to all Judaism, not only orthodox Judaism. 


1. "Mummiedearest, member since July 24, 2007, New York qtd. in "Who Here is Shrewd and Creative? Need to Arrange Kiruv" on December 27, 2007. Original thread posted by Anonymous on December 26, 2007. http://www.imamother.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=36648&highlight=kiruv accessed 2/23/2013 at 3:28pm.
2. ibid. 

Talking With Missionaries (Yes, That Includes Kiruv People)

Guest Post by Jewish Atheist
When I was younger I got involved with anti-missionary work. It started when I discovered that some friends of mine somewhat deceived me into organizing a concert at a Jews-for-Jesus (J4J) center… also discovering that these friends were J4Js! That encounter actually led me to start studying Judaism more… and ironically led me on the path to becoming very religious. But I always kept an interest in missionaries, the threat they posed to the Jewish community (or at least as I perceived it), and how to argue with them. This hobby of mine was rather unusual for a yeshiva bochur (student), but then again, I’m the kind of person who likes to debate his beliefs. And so I did.
I used to go out to Jewish gatherings (e.g. the Salute to Israel Parade) or any events that I heard would have a lot of missionaries. I would often stop to argue with people preaching to Jews in the subway. (I usually only bothered with missionaries who were targeting Jews.) And amongst my friends I was known as the guy who had answers to their questions.
And that’s what a lot of people think is most important, answers and rebuttals. In truth, that’s only a small part of it. More important, I found, were the assumptions and framework for the debate. Otherwise you can simply get into dead-ends where people just stubbornly accept their own opinion; in particular, one’s own interpretation of texts.
Now that I’m an atheist, I’ve often found that arguing with religious Jews - especially the kiruv (outreach / missionary) types - is quite similar as arguing with Christian missionaries. Very similar.

So here are some thoughts and observations on how to have a meaningful debate without falling into common traps:

1.  Burden of Proof: Religious folk often assume that their beliefs are the default truth and that skeptics must “prove them wrong.” No. They’re the ones making a claim that “such and such is true” so they have the burden of proof to demonstrate it’s true (especially for such extraordinary, supernatural claims). Establishing this is a key component to such arguments. Don’t let rabbis corner you into “proving the ten plagues didn’t happen.” Or “proving there isn’t a god.” That’s b.s. They’re the ones claiming magic exists; let them prove it.
2.  Define Terms!!! Define “god”; define “moral”; define “proof," etc. For instance, it’s very easy for kiruv types to talk about how the Torah teaches morals… but only because they define morals as “that which the Torah teaches”! (And obviously circular reasoning is not very impressive.) It’s very easy to politely disagree and say that you don’t define morals that way, and that if they are defined that way, that you don’t particularly care about “being moral” (aka “doing what this particular ancient text - and interpretation - says). If you can come to a mutual agreement on what it means to be “moral” or an elment of morality (e.g. promoting wellbeing), then one can have a more rational discussion. For instance, on whether it’s “moral” to dress less strictly than the orthodox modesty rules. Or whether it’s “moral” to impose such strict modesty rules. etc. But you can only get to this if you define terms first. (Also: Don’t fall for, or create, simplistic dichotomies. Embrace the gray area. Embrace that things usually exist along a spectrum. e.g. Most people aren’t “good or bad”. We’re all somewhere inbetween.)  
3. Go back to the basics, to the framework: It’s easy to fall into a trap of “I think the text means this” vs “I think the text means that.” Don’t do that. Establish a system for analyzing texts and claims. In particular, look at the assumptions in a belief system’s framework. For instance, when I would argue with missionaries, I’d often begin by asking them if they agree that Judaism existed before Christianity. Which, of course, it did. I then ask, “If Judaism came first, and Jews had their own understanding of the Torah, then why on earth would it make sense to adopt a new interpretation which completely contradicts the standard, historical, traditional  interpretation? Why would it make sense to suddenly understand, for instance, Isaiah 7 as referring to a “virgin” if the word doesn’t imply that and - to my mind, more importantly - that it was never understood as meaning a virgin (nor as a messianic prophecy!). It makes the argument not only about “interpretation” but about a historical perspective, an argument about the structure of Christianity itself, and the validity of its novelty.The same is true of Judaism. For instance, the assumption Orthodox Jews share that the Rabbinic interpretation represents the true intent of the text. E.g. “eye for an eye” isn’t meant literally - and never was. How do they know that? Afterall, we know for a fact that there were different religious groups around at the time who interpreted the text in different ways, and often expressed the opinion that rabbis were just making stuff up and not sticking to the text. E.g. Karaites, Sadducees, and more. (Thus one could argue that the “traditional” understanding of a text may actually just be a very old novelty originating from the rabbinic sects, but not the text itself. {But yes, “almah” in Isaiah 7 would still not make sense for Jesus. Facts and evidence are still important!})) 
4. Fact-check. Amazing how many people - especially kiruv types - make stuff up or present only a very one-sided perspective or just repeat dribble which they naively assumed was true. Question their stats, their facts, and esp their quotations. Double check. Especially if it seems fantastical. Thanks to the internet, this is a LOT easier than it used to be. Take advantage. 
5.  It’s ok to say “I don’t know.” Or, “I want to look into it more.” Don’t be pressured into making stuff up or trying to invent poor arguments which will only make your arguments weaker. There’s no rush. Take your time. Do your research. And be honest if you don’t know. You’ll avoid getting cornered and bogged down by having a weak argument of yours being demolished. And besides, we don’t know everything. And that’s okay. It’s something religious people need to learn to accept instead of - as is often the case - merely using a “god of the gaps” argument.
6. “Is this any different from other groups?” This one question can debunk (or at least lead to some great discussion about) lots of outreach arguments. “Our lives are wonderful!” Okay, but can’t other religious groups say that too? Should I therefore become a Mormon? “We have prophecies that have been fulfilled!” Aside from looking into those “prophecies" again, ask if this is different from other religious groups which claim to have had prophecies fulfilled. You get the idea.
7. Emotions: They get in the way of thinking clearly, which is probably not what you want to happen. So, three points:

• A) Stay calm. Don’t insult. Don’t let them rattle you. The calmer you remain, the better you’ll be able to formulate points, the more reasonable you’ll seem (and probably be,) and it’ll irk those who try to tug at your emotions to evoke certain reactions.  
• B) Don’t get bogged down in long, emotional stories. If the rabbi has a story about Jewish children being identified in Christian orphanages by their recitation of the shema, then just ask him for the bare facts: Some Jewish children were kidnapped and found. Just ask for the facts. 
• C) Environment is important: Whether you realize it or not, your brain acts differently based on the environment you’re in. If you’re on a retreat with other Jews, unfamiliar with the place, and being led by rabbis around a Jewish schedule, it’s essentially already placing you into their environment. It can be dangerous, and I suspect is a huge part of why going to yeshiva in Israel - surrounded by other religious Jews - has such a big effect. If you can, avoid such scenarios - or at least be wary. If the rabbi wants to talk, you may prefer email or a neutral setting so that you’re both on equal ground. 

Well, there you go. Hopefully this will be of some help. And feel free to drop by my blog: JewishAtheist.tumblr.com

Jewish Outreach on Campus: The Approach

This is the first of several posts that will address kiruv/outreach on college campuses.

Setting: A typical American College Campus, present day.

It’s the beginning of the fall semester. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur fall out in the middle of September this year, and most Jewish students won’t be able to leave school to celebrate with family due to time constraints and distance. Accompanied by a few student helpers, on-campus Jewish outreach professionals, who have a chartered club on campus and a building that is used to host students for holiday and Shabbat meals, classes, religious services, and socializing, are outside, sizing up the students on the quad and approaching those look like they might be Jewish.

Rabbi L: Would you like a pamphlet on Rosh Hashanah?

Random Student: Huh? Oh, sorry. I’m not Jewish.

Rabbi L: No problem. Have a great day!

Random Student: Likewise.

Rabbi L: [approaches a small group of students.] Would any of you like a holiday booklet about Rosh Hashanah?

Lisa: Oh, hey. Um. [looks at friends.]

Jayden: Rosh Hashana. That’s, like, next week. 

Rabbi L: Tuesday night. We’ve got services and meals.

Sarah: My folks would probably want me to go to services. Are they orthodox?

Rabbi L: We welcome all Jews. 

Sarah: I’m Reform.

Rabbi L: Are your parents Jewish? 

Sarah: [proudly] Yes. And my grandparents. And their grandparents. But they weren’t religious. 

Rabbi L: You don’t have to be religious to be a Jew. [he smiles]

Sarah: Okay. Well, I can read Hebrew.

Lisa: Oh my God. I’m not good at Hebrew. At all. I don’t remember anything from my Bat Mitzvah.

Rabbi L: We’ve got English translations. And I’ll be there, explaining things as we go. And we’ll be having traditional holiday meals. My wife’s a fantastic cook.

Lisa: I love to cook! 

Rabbi L: Really? What do you like to cook?

Lisa: Everything. Except ramen. I can make chicken soup. Pizza. And I bake cookies.

Rabbi L: That sounds wonderful. If you’re free on Friday afternoon, you should stop by the Center. A group of kids usually show up to help cook for our Friday night Shabbos Extravaganza. Here. [he pulls out a printed calendar of events] This is a list of events for the next few months. 

Jayden: Cookies? Lisa, will you marry me?

Sarah: She can’t. Now that I know about the cookies, she’s marrying me.

Rabbi L: Let me sign you guys up for email reminders about our events and weekly happenings. And you really should come for Friday night. There’s nothing like a home-cooked meal when you’re far from home.

Jayden: I’m so there. With my two dates, of course.

[After signing up for emails and putting Rabbi L’s brochures into their bags, the three friends say goodbye, promising to bring their friends. This has been successful for Rabbi L, who now has three students who will hopefully show up on Friday and then the following week for Rosh Hashanah. He writes a few notes in his own notebook—their names, brief descriptions to remember them by, and a few words to recall the conversation. Lisa: likes to cook, had a Bat Mitzvah, might be interested in Hebrew refresher course. Sarah: likes cookies, proud, Reform, both parents are Jewish, slightly negative about Orthodoxy. Jayden: popular with women, seems open to anything with food. Happy to have met three new students, Rabbi L continues his work.]

What just happened?

          Rabbi L did the work he loves. When confronted with Sarah’s question as to whether the synagogue services would be orthodox, sensing that she or maybe her parents (who would love her to go to services for the holidays) might not be 100% comfortable knowing that worship would be done according to orthodox standards, with men’s and women’s seating separated by a mechitza (a divider or partition) between the genders, opted to explain that services are open to all Jews. Rabbi L was taught to deflect that question, understanding that non-orthodox Jews are often put off by orthodoxy. Instead of giving a straight answer, which would have been “yes,” he answered by reverting to the philosophy of inclusiveness and pluralism. This puts people’s anxiety at ease, making them more likely to show up to events that they wouldn’t show up to if labeled as orthodox. Rabbi L was also instructed in the importance of a low-key approach. Not every Jewish student is going to be open to orthodox Judaism. By not coming on too strong and by deflecting questions with prepared answers that address those wary of religious Jews, he can still convince them to attend, while making them comfortable with their choice. Rabbi L, knowing that according to orthodox standards, anyone not born to a Jewish mother is technically not Jewish, managed to find out if Sarah was Jewish without giving her a lecture or turning her off to possibly attending a program.

          While Rabbi L may not personally agree with the type of flirting and banter between the young people, he chooses to not respond, instead, focusing on the students in order to find things to remember about them. He listens carefully to the conversation, responding to what the students say. When Lisa mentions cooking, he recognizes this as a way to reach her. Using this, he is able to tell her about other programming available, even offering a chance to take part in some cooking. Bringing students into the kitchen is a fun way for them to learn about keeping kosher, while growing the relationship between the outreach professionals and the students. While it is understood that not every student will decide to keep kosher or become orthodox, every student who has a good experience will bring others. Not only are these students potential candidates for orthodoxy and growing observance, but they and their parents are also potential donors who will help to fund further Jewish programming on campus. 

          So far, campus kiruv seems pretty innocuous. But outreach professionals are taught to take it slowly. They have four years to get each Jewish student involved on some level, and they know that not everyone who attends a program is going to become orthodox. Their first goal is to get students into their building (if they have one) so they can provide a positive Jewish experience and start developing a relationship. This will be discussed further in subsequent postings.