I challenge my readers to revive observance of the mitzvah of hospitality: open your tent! Invite Jews and friends of Jews to your home! I believe we can thereby transform and revitalize Judaism in the 21st century.
I’m busy getting ready for Shabbat. Tonight five of my students are coming to dinner. There’s also a guest coming whom I met during the week. I advertised on a local listserv that I had boxes to give away, and she needed boxes. And there’s plenty of room at the table so I invited her.
Dinner is going to be simple:
Mac and Cheese
Green Beans with Garlic roasted in Olive Oil
Linda’s making cookies for dessert, and I have little mandarins to go with the cookies (or instead of cookies, if someone is avoiding sugar.)
Shabbat dinner does not have to be fancy. I like to have “comfort foods” for Shabbat, myself. It is less stressful for the cook, and easy on the guests, too.
Shabbat is coming with such mixed feelings this week.
On the one hand — SHABBAT! Shabbat is a day of rest, a day of blessing, a day of holiness. Shabbat!
On the other hand — this Shabbat will be the 1st anniversary of the Newtown massacre. All those children, all those teachers, mown down because … why? We will never know why a disordered young man murdered his mother and all those people. All we know is that a year later, nothing has changed. You can still get a gun without a background check, and there’s still darn little we care to do for people in the depths of a mental health crisis, or for their families. (Yes, I know how he got the guns. I still want that loophole closed, because I want it to be more difficult for people with mental health problems and/or felony records to get guns. Nor do I plan to debate this in comments.)
And on yet another hand — this week I will have my first real Shabbat Open House, the one where I have sent an email to a few of my students and said, “let’s hang out.” I know that some are planning to come. Don’t know about the others. The idea is to just “be” from 3 until havdalah, enjoying each others’ company, playing games, maybe studying, maybe not. I’ll report back, I promise!
May your Shabbat be a Shabbat of blessing, peace, and remembrance!
I took the leap into my new home with two projects in mind:
1. Radical Hospitality – I’m going to “do Jewish” here regularly and often, with many different people. That includes Shabbat afternoon hang-outs, Shabbat dinners, and other celebrations or ordinary times.
2. Asking for and accepting help – My body doesn’t allow me to play the Lone Ranger anymore, doing everything for myself. I tried dealing with that by isolating a lot, and the result was that I lived in a half-moved-into apartment for five years. Now I’m going to do it differently: asking for help, accepting help, being gracious and when I can, combining that with being Jewishly hospitable.
Hospitality, so far, has begun with a bang. I think I’ve had more guests in my house in the past 12 days than I had in the previous 3 years. Most of it was holiday related, and not at all routine, but I am not a hermit anymore. This is good. Also, I’m enjoying it. I like having people over. I like doing Jewish with old and new friends.
Asking for and accepting help has also been a success, but that one is really giving me a spiritual workout. Two of my students and one other friend were here Saturday night, assembling bookshelves for me. I am so grateful to them – my back and knees won’t permit me to do any of the stuff they were doing – but oh my goodness, I am uncomfortable watching people do things for me! The alternative, though, is (1) do without or (2) hire people. For years now I have worked with a combination of those two, and frankly it was not life-enhancing, especially since after a while of muddling through, I didn’t want to have anyone in, friend or hired, because of the clutter. So I am faced with a choice: learn to accept the goodness of others, or be isolated.
So last night I accepted the generosity of three people who did not owe me anything, and it didn’t kill me. No one is going to hold it over my head, or take it out somehow later. It’s OK. And I look forward to giving back with things I have to give: Jewish learning, food, warmth, and so on. I am not “less” for needing their help, nor am I in some sort of mysterious trouble for accepting it.
Kol Yisrael aravim zeh l’zeh: “All Jews are responsible for one another.” I have always taken that as a challenge to look for others that I can help. Being on the giving side has become easy for me. Being on the receiving side is a new lesson to learn.
Judaism teaches us that every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. We strive to honor that spark of the Divine in every person, but that is not usually instinctive. It requires learning.
The philosopher and theologian Martin Buber taught that God is present between two human beings when we make what he called the “I-Thou” connection, a real and sacred awareness between two people, a true sharing and meeting of the souls. This can only happen when we are open to the other, when we are aware of each other without objectification or distance. It is a truly sacred moment.
I would like to introduce my readers to a remarkable young woman who is willing to teach us how to communicate and connect with a person with aphasia, damage to the part of the brain involved in language. I first heard of Laura Cobb because I went to high school with her mother: a photo of Laura riding her tricycle as a very little girl was on my refrigerator for years. Laura was hit by a drunk driver in September 2008, was in a coma for three weeks, suffered a stroke, and now has aphasia. She is a highly intelligent 27 year old with a lively sense of humor.
The aphasia has presented her with challenges in conversation with both friends and strangers. Laura took the remarkable step of creating a video to assist the rest of us in learning how to communicate effectively with people with aphasia. That video has gone viral, because it’s very, very good.
If you’d like to learn how to speak and how to listen to someone with aphasia, here is the video, in the context of a Huffington Post article about Laura. Much of what she suggests is also helpful for speaking with persons who have auditory processing difficulties and other language issues as well. If you are trying to talk with someone, and you get the feeling that language is a barrier, these are things to try.
This is a video that teaches important Torah, the art of connecting with another human being. Enjoy.
I’m feeling tired and happy. A lot of work came to fruition in the past few days.
First, I came very close to my goal of posting to this blog every day for the month of November, despite the move, despite everything. I missed one day near the beginning, but otherwise, good. I think the alternative was letting it lie fallow while I went crazy with everything else.
Second, we had the housewarming, the first Shabbat Afternoon Open House. The whole neighborhood was here, and a lot of students, friends, family. Our “Abraham’s tent” with four sides open wide is launched. I’ll continue blogging what I learn about doing Judaism with friends, teaching the process of keeping a hospitable Jewish home.
What did I learn yesterday? That not everything has to be perfect. There were a number of things that were not picture perfect, but that was OK. People had a good time. The neighbors had a chance to compare notes on Linda and me, on the house, and to update each other on all the news. My students know how to find me now, and they are looking forward to classes here at the house. My friends were here with love and support.
We finished the day with havdalah (hahv-dah-LAH) and menorah lighting, very appropriate. Chanukah means “Dedication” – it’s a memorial of the rededication of the Temple long ago – and yesterday was a celebration and dedication of our new home.
Here is a suggestion from one of the Radical Hospitality enthusiasts:
What if, once a week, when I cook a meal, I cook more than I need? Then call one of these people:
- Someone I know who is having a tough time
- Someone who cannot cook
- Someone whom I know is not eating well
…and say either:
- “I cooked too much food! Can I bring you some?”
- “I cooked too much food! Come help eat it!”
The worst that can happen is that you get no takers, in which case you pop the extra into the freezer and take it to the next shiva you attend as “food for later.”
I love this. I will admit that I am not quite ready to commit to once a week for this spiritual practice, but I am willing to commit to once a month. I’ll let you know how it goes.
One thing is bugging me about posting this. I’m aware that not everyone who reads this is financially or physically able to cook for others. There are too many people who don’t even have food for themselves. If you are such a person, I’m truly sorry. I hope you get an invitation to a meal, and I hope that your situation changes for the better very soon.
My thanks to the Radical Hospitality enthusiast who suggested this! If you have an idea for how to expand the love and the mitzvot in Jewish life via hospitality, don’t keep it all to yourself. Tell me, and I’ll post it, and give you credit if you want it. Or start your own blog. Or best of all, DO it and TEACH others to do it too!
I’ve been a Jewish professional for almost 14 years.
I started with the Outreach Department of the Union for Reform Judaism (then the Union of American Hebrew Congregations.) There I was part of a national staff that assisted congregations in planning programming to be more welcoming to new members of the community, including converts to Judaism, interfaith households, and Jews who had grown up without Jewish community.
“Programs” were at the heart of the work. We designed programs to help people integrate into their congregations. We designed programs to help the congregations grow into more welcoming places. We designed programs to help people talk about difficult topics like Christmas trees, and in-laws. And all that work was important.
Looking back, though, I think the most important programs were those that taught people how to “do Jewish”: how to light Shabbat candles, how to prepare for the High Holy Days, how to set a Passover table, and so on. Those programs taught people that they didn’t need programs: they needed to take action themselves. And in retrospect, we left out a very important instruction: Now that you know how, go include others in this mitzvah you’ve learned how to do.
But “programs” are not the reason that Jewish civilization has thrived for three millennia – Jews living Torah and teaching it to others is how we have survived to this day. Instruction books can only tell “how to,” whether written in codices by 16th century mystics or in blogs by modern day rabbis. They cannot transmit the warmth of the table, the camaraderie of an afternoon spent decorating a sukkah with friends, the laughter around a Shabbat table. They cannot transmit the power of simple human presence at a shivah.
Many of us want the warmth, the camaraderie, the laughter, and the comfort. But we will not get them from “programs.” We will get them from living Torah with other Jews. That is why I’m moving into a place where I can more easily have people over: I want to teach Torah by Doing Torah. And what I want to tell you is that you can do this too.
Join me on this adventure. Invite someone for this Shabbat. Invite others to join you, even if nothing is kosher, even if it is at a restaurant, even if you do it with takeout on a card table. Don’t think of it as entertaining – think of it as what it is: Torah.