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People, then programs: Building a Jewish community in the nation’s capital – eJewish Philanthropy

Posted By on August 22, 2022

On a Wednesday night at the end of June, 20 young Jewish adults attended a Washington Nationals game together. Most of the group didnt know each other prior to arriving that evening, and most didnt even care for baseball. In fact, the only thing this entire group had in common was that either I or my colleague Lindsay Goldman had personally asked each attendee to come hang out with us that night.

Just three weeks before the baseball game, Lindsay and I arrived in the Washington D.C. metro area with the goal of meeting college-aged interns primarily in D.C. and the northern Virginia suburbs. We are both former Hillel interns, current rabbinical students at The Jewish Theological Seminary and Slifka-Nadich Fellows, participants in a fellowship that connects JTS rabbinical students to young adults and Hillels to teach egalitarian Torah and provide rabbinic presence, which provided us the foundational background to accomplish our summer goal: building an intentional, temporary summer community, driven by the unique relationships we develop with individuals. We hypothesized that those returning home to their parents or coming to D.C. for work for the first time may not be connected to any Jewish community, and we could replicate some of the grassroots engagement that they might experience at Hillel on their college campus. In search of this demographic, we, along with USCJ and Rabbi Daniel Novick of Mason Hillel at George Mason University, emailed all of our contacts with one simple question:

Can you e-introduce us to college students in the area this summer who would take an hour out of their day to have coffee with a rabbinical student?

After a week or two, and lots of follow-up (and creative outreach), our calendars were full of coffee dates. Most were with people who did not grow up involved in their congregations or Jewish communities, but were thirsty for a connection to Judaism that they had begun, for the first time, to pave for themselves. Others included folks who wanted to meet Jews their own age locally to form a community. I met students who converted to Judaism in college or grew up in interfaith families. At the coffee shop of their choice, we spent over an hour getting to know each other deeply, dreaming big of a Jewish world that included exactly who they wanted to be, and connecting over our passions.

At the end of our initial hour together I knew exactly what each student wanted out of an amorphous Jewish experience this summer. Then I faced the real challenge: how to help them achieve it. The baseball game was our first effort to bring folks together. In a thin row of nosebleed bleachers, our students mingled and got to know each other, happy to gather with people in a similar stage of life. We formed micro communities in D.C. and northern Virginia, complete with Shabbat meals, weekly lunch and learns, and more social events like axe throwing, happy hours and bowling. We grounded our work in justice, attended a few marches in D.C., and offered pastoral care to students at one of the most intense moments of the summer: when the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In addition to hosting one-on-one conversations to process their thoughts and feelings, we learned with our students about the importance of reproductive justice in our Jewish texts.

By initially investing in one-on-one, personalized relationships, and then building grassroots gatherings based on individuals wants and needs, we forewent a program-first model, and the individuals came flocking towards us. Our students had autonomy to grasp their Jewish involvement in their own hands, without any institutional structures or agenda that may have historically inhibited their interest or comfort attending. Moreover, our participants didnt intern in D.C. or come home for the summer with an expectation that there could be a personalized Jewish experience just for them and yet we helped to facilitate just that. We applied lessons learned from our experiences working at Hillels on college campuses where we developed relationships and engaged in community organizing and crafted a novel and successful framework for the summer that put these late teens and early 20-somethings in the drivers seat.

This summer, two rabbinical students sought to help young Jews seek meaning, find Torah, explore their Jewish story, live a Jewish life and connect with one another. And for the people with whom weve developed those relationships, early signs are positive that they will choose to pursue Jewish community, life and learning at the next stage of their journey. We, in turn, are moved by those who welcomed us into their lives. I look forward to watching the growth this experiment inspires in Jewish individuals and communities alike.

Lilli Shvartsmann is a rising fourth-year rabbinical student at The Jewish Theological Seminary. In her time at JTS, she has served as a rabbinic intern at Hillel at Binghamton, completed a unit of chaplaincy at Project ORE, and most recently organized the pilot project Summer in the City. She is looking forward to interning this coming year at Congregation Beth El, South Orange, N.J.

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People, then programs: Building a Jewish community in the nation's capital - eJewish Philanthropy

‘We need to create meaning’: Elgin synagogue marks 130 years of change and diversity – Daily Herald

Posted By on August 22, 2022

Embracing change and diversity has been essential to how one suburban Jewish congregation has managed to stay relevant and thriving for 130 years -- and even grow during the pandemic, its leaders say.

Since 1892, Congregation Kneseth Israel in Elgin has been the beating heart of the Jewish community in the Fox Valley. The synagogue, considered the fourth-oldest Jewish congregation in Illinois, is commemorating its 130th anniversary starting this month with a number of events, including an a cappella performance blending Jewish and secular music this past weekend.

Over the years, leaders say the congregation's mission has changed to reflect the spiritual needs and demographics of its members. They come from 30 communities in and around the Fox Valley, spanning 11 school districts and four counties -- Kane, McHenry, DuPage and Cook.

"In an age when too many congregations are faltering, it is not enough to survive; we need to create meaning to appeal to a wide range of people in order to thrive," said Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein. "We've always been a regional congregation."

Klein said using new technological tools to provide services during the pandemic and re-imagining the traditional Torah (Hebrew) School helped keep the membership engaged at a time when participation at many other worship houses was waning.

The Samuel Strickman family was among the early members of Congregation Kneseth Israel, which is celebrating its 130th anniversary this month.- Courtesy of Congregation Kneseth Israel

The first Jewish families to settle in the Fox Valley were farmers, merchants and tradesmen. There has been a Jewish presence in the region dating back to the 1800s, according to the synagogue's website.

Many early Jewish settlers in the area helped supervise the production of uniforms in Chicago's garment district for Civil War volunteers. There was no center established in Elgin then, but a small group of Orthodox Jewish residents began worshipping in homes.

A minyan -- quorum required for Jewish communal worship consisting of 10 men in Orthodox Judaism -- was formed and later organized the first Illinois synagogue west of Chicago in 1892. In the early days, women weren't allowed to worship alongside men.

"The early Jews were very religious ... so women didn't have a role in any way," said Susan Johnson, the congregation's first female president in the late 1970s and 1980s, and the 130th anniversary chair. "At one time, only men were allowed on the board of directors, only men were allowed to participate in services."

Embracing Zoom worship services during the pandemic is how Congregation Kneseth Israel in Elgin stayed engaged with its members. The synagogue is marking 130 years.- Courtesy of Congregation Kneseth Israel

Members worshipped on the second floor of an Elgin building, calling themselves Congregation Tifereth Israel. The name changed to Congregation Kneseth Israel when the synagogue merged with another local group.Embracing diversity

The congregation's home for the first 20 years was a building at 77 Villa St. in Elgin. But as membership grew, talk of building a new synagogue and a Jewish community center began.

The synagogue's current home at 330 Division St. was built in stages beginning in 1948. Today, the building houses a sanctuary, library, lounge, multipurpose social hall, gift shop, classrooms, offices and a large kosher kitchen.

Membership slowly began to diversify with the influx of new immigrants in the 1950s. Now, its roughly 120 member families come from various ethnic, religious and age backgrounds.

"We embrace diversity, with members who were born in 17 countries, people who are part of interfaith families, people of differing intellectual and physical abilities, older people, younger people, members of the LGBTQ+ community, multiracial families, and the full range of Jewish religious observance," Klein said.

Though Congregation Kneseth Israel is a member of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, a lot has changed with the makeup of Elgin's Jewish community, and the congregation has evolved from its Orthodox roots to become more liberal, now refusing to conform to any labels.

"We're not affiliated with any of the major movements or streams," Klein said. "I refer to it as fiercely independent."

Embracing new ideas hasn't always come easily.

"Sometimes it's not the religious leaders that hold you back; it's the community," Johnson said about how some members still resist having worship services on Zoom.

Some changes have been welcomed with more enthusiasm than others.

Even before the COVID-19 pandemic restricted in-person attendance in March 2020, the synagogue piloted a new program for Hebrew school students. Instead of having to attend the traditional 90-minute class every Wednesday, students now have the flexibility of individualized, 30-minute weekly online sessions with a Hebrew coach, said Heather Weiser, the congregation's director of education.

"It's Hebrew school re-imagined," she said. "One of the things that makes our Torah School special is in teaching about the relevance of Judaism today."

Last year, the congregation participated in a national grant, Scientists in the Synagogue, linking the exploration of science and Judaism.

A performance by "ListenUp!" Jewish a cappella group kicked off Congregation Kneseth Israel's 130th anniversary celebration Sunday.- Courtesy of Congregation Kneseth Israel

According to recent Pew Research Center studies, synagogues and churches are struggling to retain participation and membership.

But, Klein said, her congregation continues to thrive by providing meaningful observance and lifelong learning.

"Community is about being connected," Klein said, "especially coming out of the pandemic, when people want to see their friends again. They want to know that they matter. That their lives have meaning."

Programs marking the 130th anniversary aim to do just that.

An open house is planned on the first day of Torah School at 10:30 a.m. Sunday.

The synagogue will host conversations with best-selling author Anita Diamant on the weekend of Sept. 9-11, at its center and at Gail Borden Public Library. Diamant's novels include "The Red Tent," "The Boston Girl" and "Period. End of Sentence."

She will discuss her Jewish life cycle books as part of the Oneg Shabbat, the social hour after Friday night services, and her fiction writing on Saturday evening at Congregation Kneseth Israel. On Sunday afternoon, she will appear at Gail Borden Public Library. All three sessions will be available on Zoom.

Other anniversary events include:

Scribe Neil Yerman, 9 a.m. Oct. 16.

Mulberry Street (Billy Joel tribute band) at Congregation Kneseth Israel, 7 p.m. Nov. 5.

Interfaith Thanksgiving Service, 4 p.m. Nov. 20.

Jewish student a cappella group from Northwestern University, at Congregation Kneseth Israel, Dec. 18.

There also will be other opportunities to celebrate with upcoming programs, learning opportunities and the High Holy Days, leaders said.

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'We need to create meaning': Elgin synagogue marks 130 years of change and diversity - Daily Herald

Local Jewish music retreat will be ‘a mini university’ J. – The Jewish News of Northern California

Posted By on August 22, 2022

For years, the East Coast has hosted the best Jewish music retreats, from Let My People Sing! in Falls Village, Connecticut to Hadars Rising Song Intensive in New York City. Next month, that kind of multiday, communal music-making experience is coming to the West Coast.

Kol: A Retreat for Jewish Music Across the Diaspora will take place Sept. 9-11 at Urban Adamah in Berkeley. Workshops will be offered on a variety of musical styles, including nigguns (wordless melodies), Middle Eastern, Ladino, Yiddish and cantorial music.

The nonresidential retreat is open to both Jews and non-Jews 12 and up (under 12 must be accompanied by an adult). No musical background is required. Register on Urban Adamahs website.

Were like a mini university of music and Jewish culture today, said Eva Orbuch, who is organizing the weekend with fellow music lovers Atid Kimelman and Elan Loeb. Our goal is to show that Jewish music doesnt have to [sound] just one way. It can be cool and hip for young musicians, and it can also be beautiful and nostalgic and homey for older folks.

The workshops will be taught by both professional and non-professional musicians. Rachel Valfer, a local singer and oud player, will teach womens Ladino songs and Shabbat music from the Middle East. Debbie Fier, a prayer leader at Kehilla Community Synagogue in Piedmont, will give two drumming workshops. Zvika Krieger, spiritual leader of Chochmat HaLev in Berkeley, will lead Shabbat services.

Orbuch, 33, and Kimelman, 31, met through Thrive Street Choir, a non-religious music circle that participates in Bay Area protests. In 2018, Orbuch attended Hadars Rising Song Intensive and Kimelman participated in Let My People Sing! They both yearned for a similar program closer to home and decided to create one themselves. They quickly brought Loeb on board, and the three of them planned the retreat with little outside funding.

Urban Adamah is providing the site and logistical support for free, and One Table is sponsoring Shabbat dinner. We hope to make this annual and bring in other partners in future years, Orbuch said.

The three organizers will co-lead a workshop on Jewish social justice music. Among the songs they plan to teach are Olam Chesed Yibaneh, an anthem by Rabbi Menachem Creditor that has been adopted by IfNotNow, Hazon and the Union for Reform Judaism; a Yemenite arrangement of Ozi vZimrat Yah by Israeli composer Nahum Nardi; We Rise by Batya Levine; and songs of the Jewish partisans who fought the Nazis in World War II.

The workshop is a learning space for people to come away with a few songs and know that Jews have been part of social justice movements for a long time and continue to be, both fighting for ourselves and also being good allies for other oppressed people, said Orbuch, a consultant and life coach who lives in Berkeley. As a child, she attended Congregation Kol Shofar and Camp Tawonga, two places that cultivated her love of Jewish music, she said.

Kimelman, an environmental lawyer in San Francisco, was raised by a music teacher mother. He has played viola and clarinet since the age of 10, and in college he sang in the Yale Glee Club.

For the past nine months, he has facilitated the Nigun Collective, which he described as the primary venue for Bay Area Jews to sing communally outside of the formal context of synagogue or a performance space. Founded a decade ago, the group meets once a month at Urban Adamah.

The retreats third organizer, Loeb, serves as the music specialist and song leader at the Oshman Family JCC. Growing up in Palo Alto, Loeb sang in choirs and performed on stage, but they were turned off by the competitiveness of their peers and took a break from singing for a few years. Music has become this thing in our culture where you are only supposed to do it if youre really good at it, Loeb, 27, said. In fact, if youre a human being, youre musical.

At the retreat next month, the emphasis will not be on how perfect your harmonies are, or how perfect your voice is, they said, but on connecting to the community and to the moment and to the words.

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Local Jewish music retreat will be 'a mini university' J. - The Jewish News of Northern California

Learning that feeds the soul and the toolbox – eJewish Philanthropy

Posted By on August 22, 2022

Take 1: Those of us who lead professional development (PD) programs for teachers in day schools and supplementary schools have frequently heard (often during a coffee break) one teacher saying to another: We are always expected to give to our students; when do we get to learn just for ourselves? If we talk so much about Torah lishmah, should we not have those opportunities too?

Take 2: Those of us who work in adult Jewish education have frequently heard learners say they very much enjoy coming to sessions and they leave with an incredible sense of fulfillment and connection to Judaism. Many times this is followed by If only I could transmit these concepts to my children/grandchildren/nieces and nephews

The three of us, Jewish educators with quite a few years of experience, having been at the scenes of both Take 1 and Take 2, decided to try something new. At last months NewCAJE conference the Conference for the Advancement of Jewish Education we tested a model we had in mind for a while: the opportunity for adults, whether lay people or professional educators, to bring together content and pedagogy. Since each of us has a certain set of skills, we figured that collaboration would lead to a program that could do both: offer Torah lishmah (content) and provide participants with concrete takeaways to work with their learners (pedagogy).

Exploring the topic of teshuvah as the process of returning to oneself, we chose texts that are very much off the beaten path. The more than 60 educators who were attending the session were able to glean some deep concepts about teshuvah, which they either were not familiar with or had been exposed to only superficially. The exchange of ideas was extremely enriching to all who were present, and all teachers felt that they had gained something for themselves, taught at an adult level.

Two of us then explored with the educators ways by which they could make the learning of the deep teshuvah concepts accessible and meaningful to students of all ages. Having received 10 concrete activities that could bring across those concepts to preschoolers, elementary, middle and high school students, with different kinds of games and activities that can be used both in person and virtually (including escape rooms), teachers were inspired and confident that they could bring this content into their classrooms in fun and exciting ways.

It is clear to us that this is the ideal model for professional development. If we are going to ask our teachers to give more, we should give them more not only on a professional level, but on a personal level. If teachers know they will personally be inspired and get something for themselves out of the PD sessions they are asked to attend, they are much more likely to be fully present and to actually look forward to PD days.

We also realized that this is a model that should be applied with adult lifelong learners as well. They are a captive audience, who are there because they want to deepen their understanding of and connection to Judaism. Many of them are in what psychologist Erik Erikson refers to as the stage of generativity in which they feel the responsibility of being role models and guides to the next generations. Unfortunately, though, they feel inept to do so as they have no teaching experience. What if they had mentoring development sessions where in addition to learning a topic for their own Torah lishmah, they also received concrete pedagogy strategies to bring their acquired knowledge to their own families?

We are convinced that by bringing together learning and teaching, content and pedagogy, both for teachers and for lay learners, we are able to create a learning environment that is both pleasurable and that gives the participants takeaways that can immediately be applied to their classrooms or their living rooms.

Batsheva Frankel is a veteran educator of all ages, the author of The Jewish Educators Companion (Behrman House), host and producer of the podcast Overthrowing Education, a game creator, curriculum designer and an educational consultant through her company New Lens Ed.

Sari Kopitnikoff is an experiential educator, digital artist, published author and the creator of That Jewish Moment. Shes passionate about creating games, activities, shows and virtual challenges that bring Judaism to life.

Sandra Lilienthal is an adult instructor and curriculum developer, author of the Pillars of Judaism curriculum and of the Living Wisdom series of nine courses recently introduced by the Melton School of Adult Jewish Learning. She is a 2015 Covenant Award winner.

Together they created Dor LDor Delivery to offer high caliber Torah learning for adults along with pedagogical, creative tools to pass along to the next generations.

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Never too early to get sweet on St. Louis apples – – St. Louis Jewish Light

Posted By on August 22, 2022

Jordan Palmer, Chief Digital Content OfficerPublished August 21, 2022

Apples have always been a big part of our Jewish home. As the spouse of an elementary school teacher, I always hand deliver a basket full of fresh apples to school. One apple per student, and of course one for Leigh, or Mrs. Palmer as she is known.

When my now two college-aged kids were young, we used to get ready for Rosh Hashanah by making an annual trip to Eckerts Farm to pick our own apples. And with Rosh Hashanah just about a month away (begins at sundown on Sunday, Sept. 25 and ends at sundown on Tuesday Sept. 27.), you can do the same because pick-your-own apple season is underway right now at the Belleville and Grafton locations with fresh Gala apples. Pick-your-own Honeycrisp apples will be available at both farms Sept. 2 5. The Millstadt farm will open on Wednesday, Sept. 7, with Jonathan apples for picking.

The classic symbol of the Jewish New Year is the apple dipped in honey. We do this to express our hopes for a sweet and fruitful year. But where does this tradition come from? There is nothing written in the Bible or the Talmud saying all Jews must dip apples in honey. In fact, in some Jewish homes, challah is dipped in honey for the same reason.

But for many Jewish families, including my own, the extra sweetness of the apple combined with the tanginess of the honey only makes for an even sweeter experience.

Really, the main reason apples are traditionally eaten on Rosh Hashanah is based in nature, not religion, said Rabbi Randy Fleischer of Central Reform Congregation. Because apples are identified with autumn, and the Jewish year changes in that season, a time of change in the natural world, which Jews hope we can mirror and be more open to change in ourselves as well.

Connect with your community every morning.

Added Congregation Bnai Amoonas Rabbi Carne Rose: Apples are sweet on their own, and the added combination of apples and honey, which come from the bee, adds an additional sting.

There is a sting that exists in life. Getting that honey can come with price. This is true when someone is looking for renewal at the beginning of a new year.

There is one overtly Jewish religious meaning surrounding apples, besides the Adam and Eve story.

In mystical Judaism, apples represent the divine presence (Shechinah), that we hope is with us as we do the challenging High Holy Day work of evaluating the previous year and resolving to be more loving, compassionate, generous, etc. in the year that has just begun, said Fleisher.

The cost of pick-your-own apples is $1.99 per pound plus field access starting at $2.50 per person if purchased in advance (children under 2 are free). Among the farms four locations (Belleville, Ill., Grafton, Ill., Millstadt, Ill. and Versailles, Ky.), they grow more than 20 varieties of apples each year from Golden Delicious to Fuji apples, and lesser-known varieties such as Arkansas Black Apples and Crimson Crisp. Guests can purchase field access passes and stay up to date on crop availability on Eckerts website.

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Never too early to get sweet on St. Louis apples - - St. Louis Jewish Light

At many Bay Area synagogues, the real action is social action J. – The Jewish News of Northern California

Posted By on August 22, 2022

The golden-domed sanctuary at Congregation Sherith Israel is known for its glorious stained-glass windows. Its most famous one depicts Moses receiving the Ten Commandments in Yosemite Valley a modern promised land.

In another, a Biblical woman hands out food to the needy, with the words Feed the hungry Clothe the naked Shelter the homeless above her head. The message is one that resonates with Nancy Sheftel-Gomes, who considers it a call to social action for her synagogue community.

Its a commandment thats repeated in Torah over and over again. Its really a basis of humanity, she said. I think thats why it means a lot to people to participate because they know that theyre making a difference in somebodys life.

Sheftel-Gomes is a longtime member at the Reform S.F. synagogue, where she helps to run the HaMotzi program, a food-assistance initiative started in 1993. Every Sunday, she and her volunteers meet to prepare more than 100 meals for Compass Family Services, the San Francisco Womens Shelter and various community members in need. Once a month, Sheftel-Gomes also heads the Chicken Soupers meal program. Founded in 1988 to support those with AIDS, it now feeds the community at large.

We have an obligation to do this, she said. Thats our covenant with God.

Sherith Israel is not uncommon in its commitment to social action. Nearly all synagogues have similar projects in one form or another, whether its starting a community garden or building a homeless shelter from the ground up. For many Jews, social action is a mitzvah and an important part of their religious practice. Across the Bay Area, different communities have committed to a range of social justice issues to better themselves, their fellow humans and the world.

One of the projects at Or Shalom Jewish Community, a Reconstructionist synagogue in San Francisco, is called Sanctuary Or Shalom. A congregation-wide initiative to support immigrants in California, its reach is broad: accompanying people to their immigration hearings, protesting outside Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) centers and calling elected officials to advocate for legislative change.

Social action is part of the fabric at Or Shalom. In fact, social action is one of just five tabs on the homepage. Clicking on it leads to the Safety Net Action Committee (dedicated to advocating for universal health care), the Environmental Action Committee, and the Interfaith Action Committee (which works with Faith in Action Bay Area on issues of voter engagement, gun control and housing reform). Another project was a 2016 listening campaign that asked congregants to suggest social issues they wanted the synagogue to address before the election, and myriad topics were raised.

Leslie Roffman, a longtime member and the chair of the Sanctuary Or Shalom project, said this kind of work is part of how her community practices Judaism. Social justice is at our core, she said.

Similarly, at Bnai Israel Jewish Center in Petaluma, the social action team doesnt have just one project it has many.

Congregants are part of a rotation that helps run the Interfaith Food Pantry at Elim Lutheran Church in Petaluma. Members of the Social Action Committee have taken up a green mitzvah to reduce the synagogues carbon footprint, removing cleaning supplies, paper towels and anything else at the synagogue that can be replaced with more environmentally friendly alternatives. And at Hanukkah, the independent synagogue works with Jewish Family and Childrens Services in Santa Rosa to provide gifts for children in low-income families.

This month, volunteers held a drive to collect school supplies for the children of farm workers, collecting notebooks, art materials and water bottles to be distributed to children across the state. Last year, they donated more than 300 filled backpacks.

Abbey Levine, co-chair of the Social Action Committee and executive vice president of the Bnai Israel board, said her fellow congregants are always ready and eager to become involved in a new project. Social justice work is a fundamental part of Judaism and being Jewish, she said.

I think that as Jews and as survivors of so many things ourselves, to repair the world is really critical.

In Berkeley, members of Modern Orthodox Congregation Beth Israel have been volunteering at a local mens shelter for more than 15 years. Before the pandemic, they would cook and serve food to the shelters guests once a month. For now, with the kitchen closed for safety concerns, the program is on hiatus, although the shul still supports the shelter with donations and other supplies.

The popular program has helped connect Beth Israel to the larger community, said Maharat Victoria Sutton, who retired from the shul Aug. 1 after eight years as director of education and community engagement. She was among the many volunteers, and she brought her young daughter along to help out.

Chesed is a foundation of Judaism, she said. Often translated as lovingkindness, chesed means giving oneself fully, with love and compassion.

Meanwhile, the Tikkun Olam leadership team at Congregation Beth El in Berkeley has spent two years focused on the Care First Community Coalition, an organization dedicated to reducing the arrests and incarceration of people with mental health issues. Congregants at the Reform synagogue have lobbied the Alameda County Board of Supervisors to earmark funds to improve services for mentally ill people, and in 2021 the board approved a Care First, Jails Last policy resolution and set aside $8 million for services. Theyve been involved at every stage, helping to draft budget recommendations, facilitate connections between Care First and other local organizations, and publicize the coalitions mission.

The challenge is how do we bring this [mission] forward in a way that makes [Alameda County residents] care and helps them feel connected, said Becki Cohn-Vars, co-chair of the Tikkun Olam leadership team. The Care First Community Coalition is lobbying the county to again set aside funds for these services for another year.

Rabbi Rebekah Stern, Beth Els senior rabbi, said for her, like others, social justice work is integral to her Judaism. You cant read the Books of the Prophets without understanding that outcry against injustice is core to who we are as Jews, she said.

At Kehilla Community Synagogue in Piedmont, a commitment to social action is at the core of its mission statement. In 2017, inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement, congregants formed the Belonging and Allyship Project, an initiative to address white supremacy and racial justice internally within Kehilla, at all levels of our organization and community, according to the website.

Ruthie Levin, a Kehilla congregant for more than 16 years, oversees the Belonging and Allyship Project as the synagogues people of color organizer. A Black Jew, Levin had experienced her fair share of prejudice, both within the Kehilla community and out.

What we want to work on is ways of improving how folks of color experience Kehilla moving forward, Levin said.

Kehilla now hosts a number of affinity groups to foster discussions on shifting focus away from whiteness and white supremacy in the community. A diversity, equity and inclusion team has been formed to offer training and advice to synagogue leaders. Levin wants to see everyone involved.

Its one thing to show up at synagogue and listen to a sermon and hear [tikkun olam] talked about in passing, she said. But to really embody it, in all that you do thats my goal.

At Peninsula Temple Beth El, Covid threw a wrench into its plans for an ambitious green initiative, launched shortly before the pandemic started. Following a listening campaign at the San Mateo Reform synagogue, where climate change emerged as members greatest concern, leaders of its Rodfei Tzedek (pursuing justice) team began focusing on steps they could take to reduce the synagogues carbon footprint.

PTBE members have started a community garden at the shul, donating what is grown there to Samaritan House; attended rallies for climate justice; and plan to install solar panels to help power the synagogue with clean energy. Yet the campaign has been different from what leadership imagined, said Marla Becker, one of the team members. Their vision for environmental justice work was based in group action, in the community with others. But the pandemic-led shift has not diminished their commitment to the cause, Becker said.

Theres a quote from the Talmud that we refer to often: Do not be daunted by the enormity of the worlds grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it, she said. We really believe that.

At Congregation Beth Jacob in Redwood City, social action has always been a priority, said Rabbi Nathaniel Ezray, who has been at the Conservative synagogue for 28 years. The communitys most recent work has been with United Hatzalah, a volunteer-based, free-of-charge emergency medical service throughout Israel.

Beth Jacob supports United Hatzalah through fundraising and spreading awareness about the organization. Bill Futornick, the synagogues ritual director, also leads trips for congregants to visit United Hatzalahs headquarters in Jerusalem and see its work in action. Ezray called the experience of visiting the sites in Israel that Beth Jacob supports transformative.

Social action is fundamental to the practice of Judaism, he said, and has been from the beginning.

I think that when we have a religion that talks about basic human dignity, about connecting our core story of having been slaves with the obligation to help others who are enslaved, when we have a series of values that say you may not stand idly by, when we define ourselves by loving our fellow human those things all create an imperative to act when somebody is suffering, Ezray said.

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At many Bay Area synagogues, the real action is social action J. - The Jewish News of Northern California

Masa careers have no limits for this Australian artist J-Wire – J-Wire Jewish Australian News Service

Posted By on August 22, 2022

Browse > Home / News / Masa careers have no limits for this Australian artist J-Wire

August 22, 2022 by J-Wire Newsdesk

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Avraham Vofsi, originally from Australia, is currently a Masa Career Fellow on Maslool living in Tel Aviv.

The 32-yr-old Avraham said: I grew up very secular and not at all connected to the local Jewish community in Melbourne. I knew I was Jewish, but after celebrating my bar mitzvah, it ended there.Israel and Judaism just werent part of my identity growing up.

Seven years ago, Avraham, an artist, began painting portraits. I moved from making films to being a portrait artist. I was interested in having people share their lives and stories through the medium of portraiture. There is something uniquely intimate about the medium that captured me. I wanted to understand their story and their identity so that my painting could reflect how they see themselves. Without realizing it exactly, each time I painted a portrait of someone elses story, I couldnt help but reflect on my own identity and story. This led me down a path of serious self-reflection.

Avraham started thinking about what it means to be Jewish. He started connecting to other Jewish people online. I never even had Jewish friends. Finally, I was connecting with young people my age who were Jewish and excited to be Jewish.

As Avraham began connecting to his Jewish roots, halfway across the world, in Israel, Operation Guarding of the Walls broke out. This was the first time I was connected to Jewish people when this kind of thing happened in Israel. There was a war going on in Israel, but there was also an online war. This was the most anti-Semitism Ive ever been exposed to. I started seeing my friends posting anti-Israel posts and anti-Semitic propaganda. I had good friends who started ignoring me just because I was Jewish.

This was a huge revelation for Avraham and made him realize that he needed to be more proactive as an advocate for a country he only recently felt connected to, but still never visited. I began reaching out to people who were posting anti-Israel and anti-Semitic posts to begin a dialog. I experienced pure anti-Semitism, but I could not sit back and stay quiet.

After the operation ended, Avraham knew he needed to come to Israel, as he couldnt just advocate from the sidelines. In June, he came to Israel on a Masa Career program with Maslool, where he can develop his skills and tools as an artist, and experience Israel authentically at the same time. With my new connection to Judaism and Israel, my art pivoted as well. I realized that no one else is going to tell the stories of our people as we would, and its a responsibility I have as a Jewish person to share our stories for people today, and for future generations.

In the past, Avraham supported Israel from afar. This time, it is a bit different. Experiencing the most recent operation Breaking Dawn made him understand what life in Israel is really like. This was the first time I ever had to run for shelter from rockets. It made everything more real.

Avraham continues, Im proud that I am here in Israel, spreading the stories in the best way I can, through my art. Im working on a project now about Israelis with meaningful stories. This experience is what ties all Israelis together. Diaspora Jewish experience is totally different from the Israeli Jewish experience. That key difference inspires me to understand what it means to be a Jew in Israel and find common ground.

What is next for the Australian artist trying to spread the story of Israel and Israelis through his art? After this experience, I look back and I am proud of the fact that I was an advocate on behalf of Israel on the internet, even if that meant losing friends over it. This experience will help me reflect through my art on the incredible humanity of this country. I feel more confident when and if I need to go into these conversations again, that Ill know what to say. I know it now firsthand.

The ZFA Israel Programs Department is the local representative for Masa Israel Journey. Post-pandemic, the department is currently experiencing increased interest in Masa Israel programs which range from school leaver gap year programs, internship programs, academic study, Jewish learning, volunteering, teaching and high-tech employment programs. For more information on Maslool or any other Masa Israel Program, please contact the ZFA Israel Programs Office

israelprograms@zfa.com.au or call 03 9272 5584.

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Q & A: The Mantle Of Leadership (Part I) – The Jewish Press – JewishPress.com

Posted By on August 22, 2022

Question: As we now read the book of Devarim, the Torah tells us that Moses was instructed by Hashem to appoint a successor. Moses wanted His sons to succeed him, but Hashem tells him to appoint Yehoshua as the next leader. Why was this request of the greatest and most righteous of men denied? Also, were Yehoshua and Caleb the only named leaders or personalities to enter the land of Canaan?

M. GorinVia email

Answer: Your first question was asked many years ago and it engendered much interest. We refer back to that discussion and we shall see numerous explanations in fact, three of them, by readers of The Jewish Press. But first let us turn to the Rambam (Hilchot Talmud Torah 3:1) who states as follows: The Jewish people were adorned with three crowns: the crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood, and the crown of royalty. Aaron merited the crown of priesthood, as stated (Numbers 25:13), Vehayta lo ulezaro acharav brit kehunat olam It shall be for him and his offspring after him an eternal covenant of priesthood [Rambam arrives at this conclusion even though this verse actually refers to Pinchas.]

David merited the crown of royalty, as stated (Psalms 89:37), His seed shall endure for ever, and his throne shall be like the sun before Me. The crown of Torah, however, remains and is available to all of Israel, as stated (Deuteronomy 33:4), The Torah that Moses commanded us is the inheritance of the Congregation of Israel. Should you say that those crowns are greater than the crown of Torah, it is written (Proverbs 8:15-16), By me [the Torah] kings reign and nobles decree justice. By me princes rule. We thus see that the crown of Torah is greater than the other two.

My uncle, HaRav Sholom Klass, ztl, was asked a similar question many years ago. We have adapted part of his reply (Responsa of Modern Judaism Vol. 3 p. 120) for our discussion.

The Yalkut Shimoni (169) explains that when Jethro gave his daughter Tzipporah to Moses in marriage, he made him promise that the firstborn son would adopt Jethros belief of idolatry (see also the Baal HaTurim to Exodus 18:3). Moses agreed, and his punishment was that his sons would not achieve his greatness and glory.

Further on (776), however, the Yalkut Shimoni offers another reason: Joshua had studied constantly alongside Moses. He had earned the mantle of leadership and therefore he was rewarded with that position.

Midrash Tanchuma (Pinchas) explains it in this fashion: When Moses saw that the daughters of Tzelophechad were recognized as heirs to their fathers estate, he decided to ask the same for his sons. But G-d replied, He who guards the fig tree is entitled to enjoy its fruit (Proverbs 27:18). Your sons did not study the Torah and did not serve you as did Joshua, who waited upon you diligently. It is therefore Joshua who shall inherit your position of leadership. Yet Moses took from the law that was promulgated regarding the daughters of Tzelophechad, and it became an important part of the laws of inheritance that there was yet a possibility that his sons could succeed him. And of course, we know Hashems reply.

The commentary Zayit Raanan (Yalkut Shimoni 787) explains that Moses two sons died while their father was still alive and that is why they are not mentioned again. This actually must be because we find that Moses himself is very clear when he singles out Joshua and Caleb of that generation as the only ones who will merit to enter the land.

Now as to your second question, we do find or know of certain figures who by name were the exception to that rule. The first we might consider is Serach bat Asher, who was promised by her grandfather, Jacob, an eternal life that she would not die a normal human death, rather that she would ascend heaven alive, all due to the manner in which she conveyed the good news that Joseph was alive and in fact the ruler of all Egypt. Tradition has it that she lived on this earth into the times of the prophets.

Similarly, Elazar the High Priest, whose passing is noted at the very end of the book of Yehoshua, and his son Pinchas are exceptions. Pinchas, not only earned the priesthood for himself but also for all generations to follow due to his having been given special recognition by Hashem for his zeal on behalf of the Heavenly honor. Thus, according to our Sages, he lives on as Elijah (Bava Metzia 114b, see Rashi s.v. lav Kohen mar, and numerous other Midrashic sources) and Pinchas did serve as High Priest in the land of Israel (see end of Yehoshua chap. 22). However, our Sages (Bereishis Rabbah 60:3) were critical of both him and Yiftach, the leader at the time, over the matter of Yiftachs vow (Shoftim 11:31) The first to come out my door will I offer up as a sacrifice, and lo and behold it was his daughter. Each would not go to the other; had one of them made the approach it would have saved Yiftachs daughter from the great tragedy that befell her and her father, as it was in the hands of Pinchas to annul the vow and save the daughter from the monastic life that she was to live to the end of her days.

To be continued

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Q & A: The Mantle Of Leadership (Part I) - The Jewish Press - JewishPress.com

Wexner Heritage Program The Wexner Foundation

Posted By on August 22, 2022

The 2,300 Alumni of the Wexner Heritage Program are top lay leaders at the local, national and international level. In the 35 cities where we have convened WHP cohorts, virtually every Jewish communal organization continues to be supported by our Alumni. They become presidents or chairs of synagogues, Federations, JCCs, Hillels, day schools, camps and more; they often are founders or chairs of allocations or annual campaigns. They serve on the boards of JFNA, 70 Faces Media, the Foundation for Jewish Camp, International Hillel, AIPAC and J Street; The Shalom Hartman Institute, Pardes, Hadar and every US rabbinical seminary; the Jewish Education Project, Prisma, the JDC and so many more.

Alumni support NGOs across the spectrum in Israel and internationally and also chair the American side of those NGOs. They have founded and continue to support virtually every Limmud or Jewish Film Festival or Jewish and/or Holocaust Museums. They may see the need for a new organization and start it; they may see the need for a new way of doing something within an existing organization, or a constructive merger, and they implement it. While the Wexner Heritage program aims to transform Jewish lay leaders, our Alumni are in turn prepared and charged to go out and transform their communities and the Jewish world. They are bolstered by the Foundations network, staff and our ongoing programs and platforms for Alumni.

While Alumni of the Wexner Heritage program clearly are diverse, they share some important overarching values:

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Wexner Heritage Program The Wexner Foundation

Jewish Americans in 2020 | Pew Research Center

Posted By on August 22, 2022

(Photo illustration/Pew Research Center)

For this report, we surveyed 4,718 U.S. adults who identify as Jewish, including 3,836 Jews by religion and 882 Jews of no religion. The survey was administered online and by mail by Westat, from Nov. 19, 2019, to June 3, 2020. Respondents were drawn from a national, stratified random sampling of residential mailing addresses, which included addresses from all 50 states and the District of Columbia. No lists of common Jewish names, membership rolls of Jewish organizations or other indicators of Jewishness were used to draw the initial sample.

We first sent letters to the sampled addresses asking an adult (18 or older) living in the household to take a short screening survey (the screener) either online or on a printed paper form, which they mailed back to us. The screener collected demographic characteristics and determined eligibility. In households with more than one adult resident, we selected the respondent randomly by some simple method, such as asking the person who most recently celebrated a birthday to fill out the screener.

A total of 68,398 people across the country completed the screener. Respondents who indicated in the screener that they are Jewish were asked to take a longer survey. Three criteria were used to determine eligibility for the extended survey: (1) if the responding adult said their current religion is Jewish; (2) if the responding adult did not identify their religion as Jewish but said that, aside from religion, they consider themselves to be Jewish in any way, such as ethnically, culturally or because of their family background; (3) if the responding adult did not identify with the first two criteria but said they were raised in the Jewish tradition or had a Jewish parent. All adults who reported any of these criteria were given the extended survey to complete.

However, this report focuses on the answers given in the extended survey by those who said their present religion is Jewish (Jews by religion), plus those who said they presently have no religion (they identify religiously as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular) but who consider themselves Jewish aside from religion and have at least one Jewish parent or were raised Jewish (Jews of no religion). Together, these two groups comprise the net Jewish population, also referred to as U.S. Jews or Jewish Americans throughout the report.

In addition to the 4,718 respondents who were categorized as Jewish in these two ways, we also interviewed an additional 1,163 respondents who were determined to be eligible for the survey, but who ultimately were notcategorized as Jewish for the purposes of this report. Some of these respondents indicated they have a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish but said they currently have a different religion (many are Christian) or do not consider themselves Jewish today in any way, either by religion or aside from religion. Others indicated that they do not have a Jewish parent, were not raised Jewish and do not identify with the Jewish religion, yet they do consider themselves Jewish in some way, such as because they are married to a Jewish person or are Christian and link Jesus with Judaism.

Both the full sample of all initial respondents (including those who were screened out as ineligible for the extended survey) and the sample of respondents to the extended survey were weighted to align with demographic benchmarks for the U.S. adult population from the Census Bureau as well as a set of modeled estimates for the religious and demographic composition of eligible adults within the larger U.S. adult population.

For more information, see the Methodology. The Methodology also contains detailed information on margins of sampling error and other potential sources of bias. Statistical significance is measured in this report at a 95% confidence level using standard tests and taking into account the effects of a complex sampling design. The questions used in this analysis can be found here.

What does it mean to be Jewish in America? A new Pew Research Center survey finds that many Jewish Americans participate, at least occasionally, both in some traditional religious practices like going to a synagogue or fasting on Yom Kippur and in some Jewish cultural activities, like making potato latkes, watching Israeli movies or reading Jewish news online. Among young Jewish adults, however, two sharply divergent expressions of Jewishness appear to be gaining ground one involving religion deeply enmeshed in every aspect of life, and the other involving little or no religion at all.

Overall, about a quarter of U.S. Jewish adults (27%) do not identify with the Jewish religion: They consider themselves to be Jewish ethnically, culturally or by family background and have a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish, but they answer a question about their current religion by describing themselves as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular rather than as Jewish. Among Jewish adults under 30, four-in-ten describe themselves this way.

At the same time, younger Jewish adults are much more likely than older Jews to identify as Orthodox. Among Jews ages 18 to 29, 17% self-identify as Orthodox, compared with just 3% of Jews 65 and older. And fully one-in-ten U.S. Jewish adults under the age of 30 are Haredim, or ultra-Orthodox (11%), compared with 1% of Jews 65 and older.

Meanwhile, the two branches of Judaism that long predominated in the U.S. have less of a hold on young Jews than on their elders. Roughly four-in-ten Jewish adults under 30 identify with either Reform (29%) or Conservative Judaism (8%), compared with seven-in-ten Jews ages 65 and older.

In other words, the youngest U.S. Jews count among their ranks both a relatively large share of traditionally observant, Orthodox Jews and an even larger group of people who see themselves as Jewish for cultural, ethnic or family reasons but do not identify with Judaism as a religion at all. Many people in both groups participate, at least sometimes, in the same cultural activities, such as cooking traditional Jewish foods, visiting Jewish historical sites and listening to Jewish or Israeli music. Yet the survey finds that most people in the latter group (Jews of no religion) feel they have not much or nothing at all in common with the former group (Orthodox Jews).

There were some signs of this divergence in Pew Research Centers previous survey of Jewish Americans, conducted in 2013. But it is especially evident in the 2020 survey, conducted during a polarizing election campaign.

Politically, U.S. Jews on the whole tilt strongly liberal and tend to support the Democratic Party. When the new survey was fielded, from late fall 2019 through late spring 2020, 71% said they were Democrats or leaned Democratic. Among Jews of no religion, roughly three-quarters were Democrats or leaned that way. But Orthodox Jews have been trending in the opposite direction, becoming as solidly Republican as non-Orthodox Jews are solidly Democratic. In the run-up to the 2020 presidential election, 75% of Orthodox Jews said they were Republicans or leaned Republican, compared with 57% in 2013. And 86% of Orthodox Jews rated then-President Donald Trumps handling of policy toward Israel as excellent or good, while a majority of all U.S. Jews described it as only fair or poor.

While these generational shifts toward both Orthodoxy and secular Jewishness have the potential, in time, to reshape American Jewry, the new survey paints a portrait of Jewish Americans in 2020 that is not dramatically different from 2013. Counting all Jewish adults young and old, combined the percentages who identify as Orthodox, Conservative and Reform are little changed. The size of the adult Jewish population is also remarkably stable in percentage terms, while rising in absolute numbers, roughly in line with the total U.S. population.

Pew Research Center estimates that as of 2020, 2.4% of U.S. adults are Jewish, including 1.7% who identify with the Jewish religion and 0.6% who are Jews of no religion. By comparison, the 2013 estimate for net Jews was 2.2%, including 1.8% who were Jews by religion and 0.5% who were Jews of no religion. (These figures are rounded to one decimal. Given the expected range of precision for two surveys of this size and complexity, it is safer to say that the adult Jewish population has roughly kept pace with change in the U.S. population than to focus on small differences in the 2013 and 2020 incidence rates.)

In absolute numbers, the 2020 Jewish population estimate is approximately 7.5 million, including 5.8 million adults and 1.8 million children (rounded to the closest 100,000). The 2013 estimate was 6.7 million, including 5.3 million adults and 1.3 million children. The precision of these population estimates should not be exaggerated; they are derived from a sample of the U.S. public that is very large compared with most surveys (more than 68,000 interviews) but are still subject to sampling error and other practical difficulties that produce uncertainty. Furthermore, the size of the Jewish population greatly depends on ones definition of who counts as Jewish. For more details on the 2020 population estimates, including alternative definitions of Jewishness, see Chapter 1.

The new survey continues to find that Jewish Americans, on average, are older, have higher levels of education, earn higher incomes, and are more geographically concentrated in the Northeast than Americans overall. There is also evidence that the U.S. Jewish population is becoming more racially and ethnically diverse. Overall, 92% of Jewish adults identify as White (non-Hispanic), and 8% identify with all other categories combined. But among Jews ages 18 to 29, that figure rises to 15%. Already, 17% of U.S. Jews surveyed live in households in which at least one child or adult is Black, Hispanic, Asian, some other (non-White) race or ethnicity, or multiracial.

Although in many ways the U.S. Jewish population is flourishing, concerns about anti-Semitism have risen among American Jews. Three-quarters say there is more anti-Semitism in the United States than there was five years ago, and just over half (53%) say that as a Jewish person in the United States they feel less safe than they did five years ago. Jews who wear distinctively religious attire, such as a kippa or head covering, are particularly likely to say they feel less safe. But the impact on behavior seems to be limited: Even among those who feel less safe, just one-in-ten or 5% of all U.S. Jews report that they have stayed away from a Jewish event or observance as a result.

These are among the key findings of Pew Research Centers new survey of U.S. Jews, conducted from Nov. 19, 2019, to June 3, 2020, among 4,718 Jews across the country who were identified through 68,398 completed screening interviews conducted by mail and online.

Comparisons between the new survey and the 2013 survey of Jewish Americans are complicated by a host of methodological differences. At the time the 2013 study was conducted, it used the best available methods for selecting a random, representative sample of Jews across the United States: dialing randomly generated telephone numbers and having live interviewers (real people, not recorded voices) ask a series of screening questions to identify respondents who consider themselves Jewish. By 2020, however, response rates to telephone surveys had declined so precipitously that random-digit dialing by telephone was no longer the best way to conduct a large, nationwide survey of a small subgroup of the U.S. public.

Instead, we sent letters to randomly selected residential addresses across the country, asking the recipients to go online to take a short screening survey. We also provided the option to fill out the survey on a paper form and return it by mail, so as not to limit the survey only to people who have access to the internet and are comfortable using it. These methods obtained a response rate (17%) similar to the 2013 surveys (16%) and much higher than what telephone surveys now typically obtain (approximately 5%).

But, because of the differences between the ways the two surveys were conducted, this report is cautious about making direct comparisons of results on individual questions. For more information on how the new survey was conducted, see the Methodology. For guidance on whether 2020 survey questions can be compared with similar questions in the 2013 survey, see Appendix B.

Because the 2020 Pew Research Center survey of U.S. Jews was conducted by mail and online, the results on many questions are not directly comparable with the Centers 2013 survey, which was conducted by telephone.

Years of research on survey methods shows that people tend to answer some questions differently when they are responding to a live interviewer on a telephone than when they are providing written answers in privacy, either online or on paper. Social scientists believe the differences are caused by a variety of factors, often including an unconscious tendency to give socially desirable answers when talking to another person.

However, not all survey questions are subject to this social desirability bias. To examine the impact of the methodological differences between the 2013 and 2020 surveys, Pew Research Center conducted an experiment with a separate group of 2,290 Jewish respondents, randomly assigning some to be interviewed by phone and others to answer the same questions online.

This experiment was not part of the actual survey; none of the experiments participants are counted as respondents in the main survey. But we have used the findings to help assess whether differences between the 2013 and 2020 results on particular questions represent real changes in the views of Jewish Americans over that seven-year period or, on the contrary, may just reflect the different modes (live interviewer vs. self-administered) in which the two surveys were conducted.

The mode experiment indicates that several questions about Jewish religious observance are subject to substantial social desirability bias in telephone polls. For example, the share of respondents who say they attend synagogue services at least monthly was 11 percentage points higher among those speaking with a live interviewer by telephone than among those responding on the web or by mail, in line with a pattern among Americans as a whole. The experiment also found differences in the way respondents answered questions about the importance of being Jewish and of religion in their lives. In addition, social desirability bias seems to affect the way U.S. Jews answer some questions about Israel, including how emotionally attached they feel toward the Jewish state.

Moreover, these mode effects are not the only potentially important difference between the two studies. They also used different strategies to sample Jews. Its possible that the 2020 web/mail survey may not have been as effective as the 2013 phone survey at reaching segments of the Jewish population who are uncomfortable with going online or lack access to the Internet, while the new survey might have been more effective at reaching tech-savvy groups like young people. Even though all eligible respondents had an opportunity to complete the 2020 survey questionnaire on paper and return it in a postage-paid envelope, this might not have overcome the initial reluctance of some people such as older Orthodox adults to participate online. Whether this is actually the case or not is very difficult to determine, but it should be acknowledged as a possibility.

Bearing all these methodological differences in mind, Pew Research Center generally advises against comparing specific numbers or percentage-point estimates from the 2013 and 2020 surveys and assuming that any differences represent real change over a seven-year period.

A few exceptions are noted, where relevant, in this report. For example, there appears to be little or no difference in the way Jewish Americans describe their institutional branch or stream of Judaism (e.g., Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, etc.) when speaking on the telephone versus answering online or by mail.

For more information on the mode experiment, see Appendix B.

The 2020 survey finds that slightly over half of all U.S. Jews (54%) belong to the two long-dominant branches of American Judaism: 37% identify as Reform and 17% as Conservative. Those figures are essentially unchanged from 2013, when a total of 54% identified with either the Reform movement (35%) or Conservative Judaism (18%).

The share of all Jewish adults who describe themselves as Orthodox is also about the same in 2020 (9%) as it was in 2013 (10%). Other branches, such as the Reconstructionist movement and Humanistic Judaism, total about 4%, very similar to in 2013 (6%). And the share of Jewish adults who do not identify with any particular stream or institutional branch of Judaism is now 32%, roughly on par with the 2013 survey (30%).

In broad strokes, the characteristics of these groups also are similar in 2020 to what they were in 2013. On average, the Orthodox are the most traditionally observant and emotionally attached to Israel; they tend to be politically conservative, with large families, very low rates of religious intermarriage and a young median age (35 years).

Conservative and Reform Jews tend to be less religiously observant in traditional ways, like keeping kosher and regularly attending religious services, but many in these groups participate in Jewish cultural activities, and most are at least somewhat attached to Israel. Demographically, they have high levels of education, small families, higher rates of intermarriage than the Orthodox and an older age profile (median age of 62 for Conservative, 53 for Reform).

There is a fair amount of overlap though it is far from complete between the 32% of Jewish adults who do not consider themselves members of any branch or denomination of American Judaism and the 27% who are categorized as Jews of no religion. Survey respondents who say their religion is Jewish are categorized as Jews by religion no matter what their branch identity or levels of observance. Those who describe their religion as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular but who have a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish and say that aside from religion they consider themselves Jewish in some way such as ethnically, culturally or because of their family background are also fully included in the Jewish population throughout this report. Survey researchers call them Jews of no religion because they do not identify with Judaism or any other religion.

As in 2013, Jews of no religion stand out in 2020 for low levels of religious participation particularly synagogue membership and attendance together with comparatively weak attachments to Israel, feelings of belonging to the Jewish people and engagement in communal Jewish life. They tend to be politically liberal and highly educated, with relatively high rates of intermarriage and a low median age (38 years).

One way to illustrate the divergence between Jews at opposite ends of the religious spectrum is to widen the lens and look at religion in the United States more broadly. Orthodox Jews are among the most highly religious groups in U.S. society in terms of the share who say religion is very important in their lives (86%) along with Black Protestants (78%) and White evangelicals (76%). Jews of no religion are among the countrys least religious subgroups even more inclined than unaffiliated U.S. adults (sometimes called nones) to say that religion is not too important or not at all important to them (91% vs. 82%).

This 2020 Pew Research Center survey takes the same basic approach to defining Jewishness among U.S. adults and uses the same categories that the Centers 2013 survey did.

As the earlier report explained, Who is a Jew? is an ancient question with no single, timeless answer. It is clear from questions in the survey itself that some Jews view Jewishness mainly as a matter of religion, while others see it as a matter of culture, ancestry or some combination of all three traits. Consequently, we sought to cast a wide net, using a screening questionnaire (the screener) to determine if respondents consider themselves Jewish in any of those ways.

In 2013, one of the screening questions asked:

Aside from religion, do you consider yourself Jewish or partially Jewish?

On the recommendation of a panel of academic advisers, researchers modified that question in 2020 to say:

Aside from religion, do you consider yourself to be Jewish in any way (for example, ethnically, culturally or because of your familys background)?

Questions about the respondents spouse and other household members were modified similarly.

Respondents were deemed eligible to take the full, longer survey if they indicated any of the following: (a) their religion is Jewish; or (b) aside from religion, they consider themselves Jewish in any way; or (c) they had a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish.

For the purposes of analysis in this report, however, the definition of Jewishness is narrower. The main categories are:

Jews by religion people who say their religion is Jewish and who do not profess any other religion

Jews of no religion people who describe themselves (religiously) as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular, but who have a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish, and who still consider themselves Jewish in any way (such as ethnically, culturally or because of their family background)

These two groups together comprise the total or net Jewish population also referred to as U.S. Jews or Jewish Americans throughout this report.

As in 2013, respondents who say they are Jewish and any other religion (such as Christian) are not included in the net Jewish category. Nor are respondents who indicate they have a Jewish parent or were raised Jewish but who say they do not consider themselves Jewish today in any way.

For more information on the 2020 survey sample, see the box How we did this and the Methodology.

While there are some signs of religious divergence and political polarization among U.S. Jews, the survey also finds large areas of consensus. For instance, more than eight-in-ten U.S. Jews say that they feel at least some sense of belonging to the Jewish people, and three-quarters say that being Jewish is either very or somewhat important to them.

As in 2013, the 2020 survey asked Jewish Americans whether a list of causes and activities are essential, important but not essential or not important to what being Jewish means to them. Because of methodological differences in the way the survey was conducted and the addition of one item to the list, the results from 2020 on particular items may not be directly comparable to 2013, but the broad pattern of responses is similar in many ways.

Seven-in-ten or more U.S. Jews say that remembering the Holocaust (76%) and leading a moral and ethical life (72%) are essential to their Jewish identity. About half or more also say that working for justice and equality in society (59%), being intellectually curious (56%) and continuing family traditions (51%) are essential. Far fewer consider eating traditional Jewish foods (20%) and observing Jewish law (15%) to be essential elements of what being Jewish means to them, personally. However, the observance of halakha Jewish law is particularly important to Orthodox Jews, 83% of whom deem it essential.

Views on halakha are just one of many stark differences in beliefs and behaviors between Orthodox Jews and Jewish Americans who identify with other branches of Judaism (or with no particular branch) that are evident in the survey, and that may affect how these groups perceive each other. For example, about half of Orthodox Jews in the U.S. say they have not much (23%) or nothing at all (26%) in common with Jews in the Reform movement; just 9% feel they have a lot in common with Reform Jews.

Reform Jews generally reciprocate those feelings: Six-in-ten say they have not much (39%) or nothing at all (21%) in common with the Orthodox, while 30% of Reform Jews say they have some things in common, and 9% say they have a lot in common with Orthodox Jews.

In fact, both Conservative and Reform Jews are more likely to say they have a lot or some in common with Jews in Israel (77% and 61%, respectively) than to say they have commonalities with Orthodox Jews in the United States. And Orthodox Jews are far more likely to say they have a lot or some in common with Israeli Jews (91%) than to say the same about their Conservative and Reform counterparts in the U.S.

When it comes to religion, U.S. Jews are in many ways distinctive from the wider U.S. public and not just in their engagement with specifically Jewish beliefs and practices.

In general, Jews are far less religious than American adults as a whole, at least by conventional measures of religious observance in Pew Research Center surveys. For example, one-in-five Jews (21%) say religion is very important in their lives, compared with 41% of U.S. adults overall. And 12% of Jewish Americans say they attend religious services weekly or more often, versus 27% of the general public.

There are even bigger gaps when it comes to belief in God. A majority of all U.S. adults say they believe in God as described in the Bible (56%), compared with about a quarter of Jews (26%). Jewish Americans are more inclined to believe in some other kind of higher power or no higher power at all.

At the same time, however, the trends playing out among American Jews are similar to many patterns in the broader population. The most obvious of these is growing religious disaffiliation: The percentage of U.S. Jews who do not claim any religion (27%) i.e., who identify as atheist, agnostic or nothing in particular, religiously is virtually identical to the percentage of U.S. adults overall in these categories (28%).

In addition, intermarriage is not just a Jewish phenomenon. Religious intermarriage also appears to be on the rise in the U.S. adult population more broadly. The same is true for rising levels of racial and ethnic diversity, which is happening in most U.S. religious groups as the countrys population as a whole becomes more diverse. Finally, the fact that Orthodox Jews tend to have more children aligns with a general pattern in which highly religious Americans have higher fertility rates than non-religious ones.

Left unanswered by the 2013 study was why many Jewish Americans, particularly in younger cohorts, rarely attend synagogue, and in what ways, if any, they connect with Judaism or other Jews.

The 2020 survey includes some new questions designed to help explore those issues. To begin with, Jews who say they attend services at a synagogue, temple, minyan or havurah at least once a month 20% of Jewish adults were asked what draws them to religious services. Those who attend services a few times a year or less were asked what keeps them away; this group makes up nearly eight-in-ten U.S. Jews (79%).

Of nine possible reasons for attending Jewish services offered in the survey, the most commonly chosen is Because I find it spiritually meaningful. Nine-in-ten regular attenders say this is a reason they go to services (92%), followed closely by Because I feel a sense of belonging (87%) and To feel connected to my ancestry or history (83%). About two-thirds (65%) say they feel a religious obligation, and Orthodox Jews are especially likely to give this reason (87%). Fewer Jewish congregants say they go to religious services to please a spouse or family member (42%) or because they would feel guilty if they did not participate (22%).

Of 11 possible reasons for not attending religious services, the top choice is Im not religious. Two-thirds of infrequent attenders say this is a reason they do not go to services more often. Other common explanations are Im just not interested (57%) and I express my Jewishness in other ways (55%). Fewer say I dont know enough to participate (23%), I feel pressured to do more or give more (11%), I dont feel welcome (7%), I fear for my security (6%) or People treat me like I dont really belong (4%).

The degree to which finances are a barrier seems to vary by age. Although some Jewish leaders believe that synagogue membership fees are keeping away young people, younger Jewish adults (under age 30) are somewhat less likely than those who are older to say they dont attend religious services because it costs too much (10% vs. 19%). For perspective on this question from in-depth interviews with congregational rabbis, see the sidebar, Most U.S. Jews dont go to synagogue, so rabbis and a host of new organizations are trying to innovate in Chapter 3.

For more analysis of these questions, see Chapter 3.

In addition to traditional forms of religious observance, such as attending a synagogue, many Jewish Americans say they engage in cultural Jewish activities such as enjoying Jewish foods, visiting Jewish historical sites and reading Jewish literature.

Young Jewish adults report engaging in many of these activities at rates roughly equal to older U.S. Jews. Among Jews ages 18 to 29, for example, 70% say they often or sometimes cook or eat traditional Jewish foods, identical to the percentage of Jews 65 and older who do the same. And 37% of the youngest Jewish adults say they at least sometimes mark Shabbat in a way that makes it meaningful to them (though not necessarily in a way that follows Jewish law, such as abstaining from work), as do 35% of Jews who are 65 and older.

Overall, however, its not the case that Jewish cultural activities or individualized, do-it-yourself religious observances are directly substituting for synagogue attendance and other traditional forms of Jewish observance. More often, they are complementing traditional religious participation. Statistical analysis indicates that people who are highly observant by traditional measures on a scale combining synagogue attendance, keeping kosher, fasting on Yom Kippur and participating in a Passover Seder also tend to report the highest participation rates in the 12 cultural Jewish activities mentioned in the survey, such as reading Jewish publications, listening to Jewish music and going to Jewish film festivals.

Those who are low on the scale of traditional religious observance, meanwhile, tend to be much less active in the vibrant array of cultural activities available to U.S. Jews in the 21st century. In fact, no more than about one-in-ten low-observance Jews say they often do any of the dozen things mentioned in the survey.

For example, among highly observant Jews, 31% say they often listen to Jewish or Israeli music, compared with 7% of those with a medium level of traditional observance and just 2% of those who are low on the observance scale. There are similar patterns on other questions: 64% of highly observant Jews often cook or eat traditional Jewish foods, eight times the share of low-observance Jews who say the same (8%).

At the same time, the survey finds that many Jews who answered a different question by saying they dont go to religious services because they express [their] Jewishness in other ways do engage in cultural activities, at least on occasion. About three-quarters report that they sometimes or often enjoy Jewish foods (77%) and share Jewish culture or holidays with non-Jewish friends (74%), while many also visit historic Jewish sites when traveling (55%) and read Jewish literature (47%).

See Chapter 3 for more analysis of these questions.

In the wake of a series of murderous attacks on Jewish Americans at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh in October 2018; Chabad of Poway synagogue in Poway, California, in April 2019; and a kosher grocery store in Jersey City, New Jersey, in December 2019 the 2020 survey posed many more questions about anti-Semitism than the 2013 survey did.

More than nine-in-ten U.S. Jews say there is at least some anti-Semitism in the United States, including 45% who say there is a lot of anti-Semitism. Just 6% say there is not much anti-Semitism, and close to zero (fewer than 1%) say there is none at all.

Moreover, three-quarters (75%) say there is more anti-Semitism in the United States than there was five years ago. Just 5% say there is less, and 19% perceive little or no change, saying there is about the same amount of anti-Semitism as there was five years ago.

Among those who perceive an increase in anti-Semitism over the last five years, relatively few (5% of all U.S. Jews) think it has occurred solely because there are now more people who hold anti-Semitic views. The vast majority say that anti-Semitism has increased in the United States either because people who hold anti-Semitic views now feel more free to express them (35%) or that both things have happened: The number of anti-Semites has grown andpeople now feel more free to express anti-Semitic views (33%).

The survey also sought to assess, in broad terms, the psychological impact of anti-Semitism on Jewish Americans and its possible chilling effect on Jewish community activities.

Slightly more than half of Jews surveyed (53%) say that, as a Jewish person in the United States, they personally feel less safe today than they did five years ago. Just 3% feel more safe, while 42% dont sense much change. (An additional 1% say they did not live in the U.S. five years ago.) Jews who usually wear something in public that is recognizably Jewish (such as a kippa or head covering) are especially likely to feel less safe, as are Jewish women.

Those who say they feel less safe now were asked a follow-up question: Have you hesitated to participate in Jewish observances or events because you feel less safe than you did five years ago?

Two-thirds of those who feel less safe (or 35% of all Jewish adults) say they have not hesitated to participate in Jewish activities because of safety concerns. About one-quarter of those who feel less safe (12% of all U.S. Jewish adults) say they have hesitated but still participated in Jewish observances or events. And about one-in-ten Jews who say they feel less safe (5% of all U.S. Jewish adults) say they hesitated and chose not to participate in Jewish observances or events because of safety concerns.

Jewish Americans report that they experience some forms of anti-Semitism much more often than other forms. For example, 37% say they have seen anti-Jewish graffiti or vandalism in their local community in the past 12 months, while 19% say they have been made to feel unwelcome because they are Jewish and 15% say they have been called offensive names. Fewer say that in the 12 months prior to taking the survey they have been harassed online (8%) or physically attacked (5%) because they are Jewish.

While reports of physical attacks are rare across the board, many of the other experiences of anti-Semitism are more common among younger Jews and Orthodox Jews (who often wear recognizably Jewish attire in public). For example, one-quarter of Jewish adults under the age of 30 say that in the past year they have been called offensive names because they are Jewish, compared with 10% of Jews ages 50 and older. And 55% of Orthodox Jews say they have seen anti-Jewish graffiti in their local community in the past year, compared with 37% of Reform Jews; this may be, at least in part, because Orthodox Jews are more likely to live in heavily Jewish neighborhoods.

Most Jewish Americans also have been exposed in the past year to anti-Semitic tropes or stereotypes though most report these as secondhand experiences, such as something they have seen on social media or read about in news stories. For example, about three-quarters of Jewish adults have heard someone claim that Jews care too much about money, including three-in-ten (30%) who say this was said in their presence in the past year and an additional 43% who say they have heard or read about this claim secondhand.

Similarly, 71% of U.S. Jews say they have heard or read about someone claiming in the past year that the Holocaust did not happen or its severity has been exaggerated. But most of these experiences have been secondhand (63%) rather than something said in their presence (9%). A smaller share of U.S. Jews have heard someone say that American Jews care more about Israel than about the United States, including 36% who have heard or read about this secondhand and 6% who have heard it directly in the last year.

Despite these experiences with anti-Semitism, Jewish Americans tend to say that there is as much or more discrimination in U.S. society against several other groups (including Muslim, Black, Hispanic, and gay or lesbian Americans) as there is against Jews. This was true in the 2013 survey and remains the case in 2020.

For more analysis of questions on discrimination and anti-Semitism, see Chapter 6.

Surveyed roughly five to 12 months before the 2020 presidential election, U.S. Jews expressed generally negative views of then-President Donald Trump: 73% of all Jewish adults (and 96% of Jews who are Democrats or lean Democratic) disapproved of his performance in office, while 27% gave him positive approval ratings (including 88% of Jews who are Republicans or lean Republican).

Jews were especially scornful of Trumps handling of environmental and immigration issues: Eight-in-ten Jewish adults said he had done a poor or only fair job on the environment, and three-quarters said the same about his handling of immigration.

Most U.S. Jews perceived Trump as friendly toward Israel. About six-in-ten overall (63%) said this, including 55% of Jews who are Democrats or lean Democratic as well as 85% of those who are Republicans or lean Republican.

But there was less consensus among Jewish Americans over whether Trump was friendly toward Jews in the United States. About three-in-ten said he was friendly (31%), while 28% said he was neutral and 37% said he was unfriendlytoward U.S. Jews. These perceptions, however, were highly partisan: While a large majority of Jewish Republicans (81%) said Trump was friendly toward Jews in the United States, just 13% of Jewish Democrats agreed.

Even though most U.S. Jews perceived Trump as friendly toward Israel, that does not necessarily mean they looked positively on his policies toward the Jewish state. Indeed, most Jewish Americans rated Trumps handling of U.S. policy toward Israel as only fair (23%) or poor (35%), while four-in-ten rated his handling of this policy as good (17%) or excellent (23%). Orthodox Jews were particularly inclined to give Trump high marks for his policies toward Israel (69% excellent).

In the 2013 survey, which took place during the administration of President Barack Obama, one-in-ten Jewish Americans said U.S. policy was too supportive of Israel. Most said U.S. policy was either not supportive enough of Israel (31%) or about right (54%).

Seven years later, during the final 14 months of the Trump administration, just over half of Jewish adults (54%) still said the level of U.S. support for Israel was about right. But, by comparison with 2013, fewer said the U.S. was not supportive enough (19%), and more said U.S. policy was too supportive of Israel (22%).

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Jewish Americans in 2020 | Pew Research Center


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