Continuing the Kiruv Conversation

Last week’s piece calling for Modern Orthodox Kiruv in the face of increasing insularity generated significant discussion, both online and in person. This week’s Substack will respond to and highlight some of the comments made in an effort to further the discourse on this important (and, to my mind, pressing) topic. All of the comments shared have been anonymized.

The Cost of Modern Orthodox Kiruv

First, let’s address the elephant in the room. Modern Orthodoxy is an expensive lifestyle. According to a 2021 Nishma Research study, the median annual income of a Modern Orthodox family is about $188k, with much of the community earning significantly higher. There have also been several articles written recently on the rampant materialism within the Orthodoxy community write large, but especially within Modern Orthodoxy. See, for example, this Tradition Journal article by Chaim Saiman and Avital Chizik-Goldschmidt.

However, I’m not particularly worried about this impacting the prospect of Modern Orthodox Kiruv. Why? Because, despite the popularity of this conversation, Modern Orthodoxy at its core is NOT a socio-economic club. It’s a worldview that integrates Torah and Madda, Judaism and culture, religion and society. And that worldview can be embraced by anyone, within any Jewish community. This is especially true “out of town” where the average income is lower and where synagogues and day schools have more diversity built into their structures. This was, perhaps tongue-in-cheek referred to by a few social media commenters as my “hottest take of all” but it’s something that I genuinely believe.

Then Why “Modern Orthodox” Kiruv?

If Modern Orthodox Kiruv need not recruit people to join the Modern Orthodox community as it exists in the Tri-State Area, why call it Modern Orthodox Kiruv? Haven’t I in the past argued strenuously against identifying with Orthodoxy AT ALL due to how little the word has come to mean? That’s a very good question, with two answers that go back to my original Lehrhaus article on the subject.

First, Modern Orthodoxy is (as far as I’m concerned) as close to an ideal Jewish worldview as possible. It is the only way of thinking about Torah and the world that Torah is situated within that even comes close to being, as Rabbi Lamm put it, “Halakhically legitimate, philosophically persuasive, religiously inspiring, and personally convincing.”

If I’m being honest, perhaps some early articulations of the Conservative Movement, Hirschian Neo-Orthodoxy, and Maimonidean Philosophical Integration with Judaism come close as well, but none of those three have produced a consistent community of seekers in the same way that Modern Orthodoxy has, which suggests to me that the latter is most correct.

Second, Modern Orthodox Jews are best equipped to engage in such kiruv because we are already part of the same world as those with whom we seek to share Torah. Therefore, I still think that “Modern Orthodox Kiruv” is the best framework, even if “Post-Denominational Kiruv” may also fit.

Regardless of what we call it, one friend of mine with training in sociology commented that my articulation represents a way “to do Kiruv that [doesn’t] get into “Drink the FlavorAde” territory with folks who might not be FFB but still interested and engaged. Some of that may also mean harder conversations around inclusion and culture in Orthodox communities, especially on college campuses.” This is certainly all true, and these are largely conversations that I think our community is ready for.

Isn’t Kiruv Inherently Coercive?

One of the people who commented most passionately is a successful Modern Orthodox educator who has worked in a number of “inreach” settings. She pointed out that “The goal of kiruv is to change people. This comes down to whether you think it is any person’s responsibility to find people where they are and try to change their observance. I don’t think you can identify as a pluralist who values all types of Jews where they are and simultaneously be a kiruv professional.”

This position gets straight to the issue that many people have with the word “kiruv.” At the end of the day, many see it as a dirty word because it implies taking someone who has no initial interest in Orthodoxy and twisting them such that they become, in the timeless self-reflective words of Louis Jacobs, “an insufferable little prig and religious fanatic, driving my poor parents crazy with my absurd demands.” I myself have been open in an interview on 18Forty about how manipulative kiruv (by an NCSY professional, in my case) ruined my budding relationship with Orthodoxy for several years.

Having said that, however, we need to drop the notion that "kiruv" is a bad word just because it has been done badly by some individuals and organizations. Pirkei Avos teaches the value of emulating Aharon HaKohen via "loving peace and chasing peace; loving all people and bringing them closer to Torah" ("אוֹהֵב שָׁלוֹם וְרוֹדֵף שָׁלוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת וּמְקָרְבָן לַתּוֹרָה"). By definition, you cannot have kiruv without genuine love and care for others, no matter how different they are from yourself, and without valuing respectful dialogue and shared spaces with them. Full stop.

Kiruv, in my understanding, is not about being coercive or changing someone at their core. It is, instead, focused on curating more engagement with Torah. I believe that anyone of any background, any level of religious observance, and any denominational identification can gain significantly from learning more Torah and performing more mitzvos at their own pace. So I see it as my responsibility to share Torah as widely as possible within a context that radically respects their choices and identities. That, to me, is what Modern Orthodox Kiruv is all about. Is it pluralistic? You be the judge.

Through all of this, though, it is important to keep the ideal direction in mind. As one of my colleagues in the Philadelphia area so thoughtfully put it,

Aharon loved people and brought them close to Torah as an act of love for People, and clearly done in a way that wouldn’t undermine peace in any way because that was his core value. Love of peace and love of people as part of his core programming is key to understanding kiruv as done by Aharon (and most likely something foundational about what the Torah meant to him). Kiruv has become a bad word bc too often (not always) it comes off as a love of Torah and an attempt to bring people to the Torah as an act of Love for Torah (but really one narrow perspective of Torah, even within the world of Orthodox Judaism). With Aharon people and peace were primary, with “kiruv,” it is often the Torah first.

Who is Our Core Constituency?

This itself, raises the important question of who the people we are meant to be helping are. One non-rabbinic friend of mine put it remarkably well:

I think kiruv is not the right frame of reference here (and not just because grammatically it should be "keiruv"). This sort of view often tries to push people into a religious life in ways that might not be healthy for them. This is notably not how Chabad operates, which tends to meet people where they're at (though sometimes unhealthy things also get pushed).

I think the better model is to see the entire Jewish world as your constituency. If you believe Orthodoxy is true (which if you're Orthodox you probably do), and either believe specifically that Modern Orthodoxy is the best kind of Orthodoxy, or at the very least that it's the best suited for Jews on a secular college campus, you should see all Jews as the people you're trying to serve by building communal infrastructure.

This framing effortlessly captures what I’ve argued for, albeit without calling it “kiruv.” It also captures what upset me so much about JLIC’s decision to shutter their program at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. In an open letter to the OU from UMass students and alumni, it was noted that, “Under their leadership, and especially post-Covid, our Orthodox community has tripled in size. They have overseen a growing daily Minyan, robust and varied programming, and Shabbat and Holiday services and meals that serve hundreds of students throughout the school year. They have transformed UMass Amherst from a lonely outpost to a special, holy place for young, frum Jews, where we can learn and grow without compromise.”

By all accounts, this was a place in which all Jews were seen as the constituency and thrived as an Orthodox-identifying community with growing infrastructure despite many (perhaps most) of the students not having graduated from Orthodox day schools. As one UMass grad with whom I am close put it,

UMass is a very different campus than JLIC serves… particularly in that it does not serve many students who were graduates of day schools. HOWEVER, UMass also has many students who are some variety of traditional, keeping Kosher and Shabbat and Tzniut in slightly different ways, perhaps, compared to other places, and I guess our students look slightly different as a result. But many of those students explore Judaism at UMass with the help of the OU-JLIC couple and the community they support, and find their desired level of observance from there. OU-JLICs mission is to keep people observant. By using only a metric for kids coming from orthodox day schools, which is what they seem to recognize as orthodoxy, they throw out many students who grew up in a traditional Jewish lifestyle and want to continue being observant or grow in their observance. Chabad does not generally serve these students because many are already keeping some or many mitzvot and know halacha, and need a community the same way we all do to continue growing in our Judaism.

What I personally find more confusing is the desire to remove OUJLIC considering how much UMass has grown in their infrastructure. When I went, there was no eruv, and no daily Minyan - we weren’t even certain of a minyan on Shabbat. Anyone who has worked in new Jewish communities knows how difficult it is to get the infrastructure in place to support a Jewish community long term. The presence for a daily Minyan indicates how many students they are reaching, that they have enough dedicated students to keep that going. Most need a large Jewish community before that is even a possibility. Why remove the OU-JLIC now, when it has clearly been so successful?

Of course, as I said in last week’s article, if the decision was made on the basis of UMass not attracting enough graduates of Orthodox day schools then the decision makes a great deal of sense. it just also effectively signs a death-warrant for the infrastructure that JLIC established during it’s time on that campus, including an eruv and daily minyan. That closure is perhaps no one’s fault in particular, but it seemingly reflects an active decision to not see those who come from differing backgrounds as part of our constituency.

(Full disclosure: My wife, who attended a yeshivish elementary school followed by Yeshiva University’s High School for Girls, graduated from UMass and was part of its JLIC community. I am, therefore, nogeah b’davar when it comes to this particular situation. I should also acknowledge that the OU has as of yet made no public statements about why UMass JLIC was discontinued. to what degree it was a funding issue vs to what degree it was due to broader considerations about the student body largely not coming from Orthodox schools is mostly (though not entirely) speculative).

There are, of course, a handful of Orthodox institutions that really understand what it is like to consider all of Klal Yisrael part of our core constituency. My personal gold standard will always be Toronto’s Village Shul/Aish HaTorah Learning Centre, where I had the tremendous privilege of serving first as a rabbinic educator and then as Assistant Rabbi. Sometimes referred to as “an Orthodox shul for non-Orthodox Jews” by guests, the Village Shul’s mission is to embrace, educate, and empower all who walk through the doors and it does so masterfully. In a modern Orthodox context, Philadelphia’s Mekor Habracha/Center City Synagogue (where I currently serve as Associate Rabbi) and Manhattan’s Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun and Lincoln Square Synagogue, and Florida’s Boca Raton Synagogue come to mind. Of course, I would also be remiss if I didn’t bring up the Manhattan Jewish Experience as the extremely successful exception that proves the rule of Modern Orthodoxy’s engagement (or lack thereof) with kiruv.

As one commentor who attended YU and became very active in kiruv asked, “Why doesn’t every large MO shul have a kiruv Rabbi and Rebbitzin on staff?” It’s a very good question :(

So, Why Modern Orthodox “Kiruv”?

Given the above, why am I so insistent on reclaiming the word “kiruv”? Why not just advocate for Orthodox Jews to serve all Jews or the like? I think that, as shown in the verses from Pirkei Avot quoted before, it’s simply the best word to use for this venture. I’ll end this longer-than-anticipated piece by quoting a now 35-year-old article by Rabbi Chaim Steinmetz of Manhattan’s Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun in Yeshiva University’s Mevaser publication. Rabbi Steinmetz is a role-model of mine, whose community serves a wide variety of Jews and house a successful outreach program:

1. Kiruv is an actual obligation and not just a convenient weekend distraction for college students. This would require all students (even college graduates), according to their time, ability and inclinations, to help other people grow spiritually, whether by giving a shiur, learning with a chavrusa, joining NCSY, JPSY, etc…

2. Kiruv can be hatzaalat nefashot. Rabbi Noach Weinberg has pointed out that if thousands of Jews were being killed yearly in another country, our Jewish community would pour an enormous amount of resources into saving them, yet when it comes to assimilation in our own backyard, we seem unconcerned. With this in mind, the urgency of kiruv cannot be underestimated.

3. Kiruv is not only bein adam la-makom, but also bein adam le-chaveiro. Unfortunately, some people have a “notch on the door” mentality and are more concerned with how many people they have made “religious” than in the person qua person. This type of an “I-It” relationship obviously lacks proper ahavat Yisrael, and is a possible chillul Hashem as well. Understanding that kiruv is rooted in chesed means that the advisor and teacher are interested in both the student’s emotional and spiritual needs. The concern is with the whole person because the two parts are inseparable.

The situation has certainly not changed much in the past decades. So… where is most of the Modern Orthodox community on this pressing issue?