How the Internet Redefined Jewish Community

A little more than thirty years ago, as a senior at James Madison College at Michigan State University, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on how the internet would change Jewish life. I argued that this new technology would redefine the very meaning of “community” in Judaism because the virtual borders were being erased by globalization. At the time, it felt like a bold prediction. Today, looking back on the past two decades, I see how completely that vision has come true. The internet has expanded Jewish life far beyond the walls of synagogues, JCCs, and college campuses, connecting Jews across the globe in ways that my grandparents could never have imagined.

AOL, Listservs, and the First Digital Jewish Neighborhoods

In the mid-1990s, Jewish life online was in its infancy. I remember logging into America Online (AOL), after waiting minutes for the dial-up modem to connect and seeing many vibrant Jewish chat rooms with names like “Torah Talk” or “Jewish Singles.” For many Jews, it was the first time they could instantly connect with others who shared their identity, no matter where they lived. The virtual Jewish community was open to all, had no membership dues, and was quickly redefining synagogues, JCCs, and Jewish federations.

Listservs soon became popular. I was on a couple of Jewish educator listservs in the late 1990s, and I remember how surprising it felt to send a question into the digital void and then receive thoughtful responses from people in Israel, New York, and Los Angeles within minutes. That was the beginning of something. Jewish conversation had gone global.

MySpace, for a moment, gave Jewish teens and college students a platform to showcase their Jewish identity, often with links to Jewish bands or photos from summer camp. And then came YouTube. I recall when rabbis first started posting sermons in short video format. Suddenly, a rabbi in Chicago could share words of Torah that reached Jews in Australia and South Africa. Suddenly, Jewish people were asking why their own rabbi wasn’t talking about the same hot topics other rabbis were and why their congregation’s cantor wasn’t inspiring them with such spirited melodies to the prayers. Jewish musicians, comedians, and educators found an international stage, and the Jewish world felt smaller in the best possible way.

Learning to Be a Rabbi in the Pews

This past Shabbat was relaxing, spiritual and reflective for me. I wasn't "working" as a rabbi, so I had the chance to sit with my family in the congregation as I do on many Shabbat mornings. My oldest son and I arrived early to shul (the synagogue) because he wanted to get there in time for Shacharit (the early morning prayers) as he will be leading that part of the Shabbat services at his upcoming bar mitzvah. Rather than worry about the spiritual satisfaction of anyone else in the congregation (a common occupational hazard for rabbis), I was able to focus on my own spiritual needs.

As a rabbi who is not a full-time congregational rabbi, I have the luxury of being able to enjoy Shabbat services with my family on many occasions throughout the year at the same congregation in which I attended preschool, became bar mitzvah and celebrated my wedding. I lead services as a Visiting Rabbi in a congregation just enough times throughout the year for me to enjoy the experience without the tzuris (loosely translated from the Yiddish as "headaches") that usually come
with a full-time pulpit rabbi position.

When I was in rabbinical school at The Jewish Theological Seminary I was fully committed to spend my professional career as a congregational rabbi. However, I wouldn't trade my current lifestyle for anything because I'm afforded the opportunity to serve as a rabbi and still have many weekends to myself and to my family to truly appreciate Shabbat.

Rabbi Herman Savitz

I can point to many rabbis before, during and after my time in rabbinical school who served as positive role models for me to learn what it means to serve a congregation as a rabbi. There was one rabbi in particular who taught me both how to be a rabbi-congregant and why that position is such a blessing. In 2001 my wife and I moved to Caldwell, New Jersey where I served a rabbinic internship during rabbinical school. It was at Congregation Agudath Israel that we met Renee and Rabbi Herman Savitz. I immediately liked them both. Renee is a warm, caring and talented artist who made beautiful tallitot (prayer shawls) and Torah covers. Herm was a dedicated hospital chaplain at a prominent psychiatric hospital, the Veterans Administration Hospital a couple other hospitals. He was a big teddy bear who was very knowledgeable and enjoyed to kibbitz.

Rabbi Savitz went to shul when he wanted to and when he did attend, he often arrived late. I always enjoyed sitting with him and schmoozing during the service. He maintained a very nice and respectful friendship with the rabbi of the congregation. When he was called upon to help out in the synagogue, he graciously did. He was treated as a fellow congregant, but always with the respect that he deserved as a rabbi. I know that several people in the synagogue treated him as a friend and fellow congregant, but when the time came and they needed a trusted counselor, they went to Rabbi Savitz in his rabbinic capacity.

While I served that internship to learn from the rabbi of the congregation, I learned a great deal from Rabbi Savitz as well. I often look back on my time in Caldwell, New Jersey and reflect on what Rabbi Savitz taught me about being a rabbi who's also a congregant in a synagogue. It can sometimes be a challenging role, but he did it with class. I hope to emulate his menschlichkeit.

Rabbi Herman Savitz, z"l, died last Thursday and was buried yesterday. To his entire family I offer my deepest condolences. Hamakom yinachem etchem. May the memory of Rabbi Herman Savitz endure for blessings.

How Another Rabbi Hijacked My Writer's Workshop Class Yesterday

This was my final post for the Rabbis Without Borders blog as I have chosen to focus my time on some of my other writing opportunities. For my final post I intended to write about how critical the Rabbis Without Borders program has been to my rabbinate and my thinking in general about the future of Jewish communities. I certainly could have written about that two days ago and I would have articulated how Clal's fellowship program has benefitted me in myriad ways and helped to expand my understanding of the "beyond borders" approach we religious leaders should be taking in 21st century Jewish life.

An experience that occurred yesterday, however, concretized the Rabbis Without Borders perspective even more for me. I've returned to Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio for the second year to serve on the faculty of Kenyon Institute's weeklong Beyond Walls Spiritual Writing workshop. My daily course focuses on using social media to further publicize ones writings on the internet. The class is made up of about 30 religious leaders (mostly clergy), of which about a quarter are rabbis.

In our second session yesterday I was discussing the benefits of blogging as a way to disseminate spiritual leaders' perspectives on the various issues of the day. I talked about how the medium of the blog gives us a borderless audience with which to share our "Torah" and bring comfort, inspiration and learning to a limitless amount of readers around the world. Immediately the hand of one of the rabbis went up and he began to challenge everything I had just said.

"This is a Ponzi scheme you're selling us," he said. The rest of the class just looked on in utter surprise. I questioned his use of the term, refusing to allow him to group me with a criminal like Bernie Madoff -- especially for the supposed "crime" of encouraging him to blog a few times a month and not bilking billions of dollars from innocent people. He went on to suggest that blogging would be a huge waste of his time because no one would read it. Furthermore, he argued that having a blog wouldn't get his congregation any additional members. He noted that he's already been watching his membership shrink over the years. Regrettably, I let him have the floor for a few more minutes as he criticized blogging and social media as a waste of time for rabbis.

I responded that the very nature of this writers' workshop, for which he applied, registered and is currently participating, is to take your writing beyond the walls of the brick and mortar congregation. I explained that if he's a good writer and has some meaningful perspectives to offer, he should try to extend his "Torah" beyond the reaches of his own synagogue and make it available to a larger audience. Moreover, I lamented his woeful perspective that his ultimate goal as a rabbi is to grow his congregation's membership rolls rather than to try to inspire more people -- potentially helping those in need with his enriching words. I then allowed some of the other rabbis in the room to refute his pessimistic perception.

Teaching Clergy to Exploit Social Media

This summer I went back to college. To be honest, it felt nothing like being on my own college campus -- Michigan State University, which is a large Big-Ten university on 5,200 sprawling acres with over 50,000 students. I spent a week at Kenyon College in rural Ohio; a 1,000 acre campus where less than 1,700 students study each year. Walking around Kenyon, I felt like I was on the campus of one of those fictional colleges in the movies, which makes sense since Kenyon alum Josh Radnor actually returned to his alma mater to film "Liberal Arts."

The reason for my one-week sojourn at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio was to serve as a faculty member of a new institute for clergy called Beyond Walls. The concept of this program, part of the Kenyon Institute, is that religious leaders are writing every day to their congregants in sermons, newsletters, legal decisions, and on social networks. Much of their writing is internal -- within their synagogue or church -- yet clergy of all faiths recognize that it is increasingly important to write outside of their institution’s walls among those who aren’t there for services, but are reading, thinking and caring about living a moral and spiritual life.

Teaching social media and blogging at Kenyon College's Beyond Walls Writing Institute for Clergy

The goal of the one-week writing intensive program was to teach dozens of rabbis, priests, ministers and other clergy members to be more expressive and authentic while writing skillfully in media as diverse as op-eds, blogs, personal essays and social media. When the director of the Kenyon Institute was looking for a religious leader who could teach clergy to be better writers when it comes to social media and blogs, Clal's Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, an adviser to the institute, recommended me for that role. I was honored to be part of the Beyond Walls faculty along with Rabbi Hirschfield and fellow Rabbis Without Borders alum Rabbi Rachel Barenblatt. Other faculty members included authors Rodger Kamenetz and Amy Frykholm, Rabbi Stephen Pearce, and Professor Richard Rosengarten. This coming summer, fellow Rabbis Without Borders alum Rabbi Rebecca Einstein Schorr will join me on faculty.

I spent my days at the institute lecturing spiritual leaders on the best practices for reaching a wider audience through social media and was intrigued by the vast range of experience. Some clergy were already using social networks and blogs to inspire thousands on a daily basis, while others were hesitant to use Facebook or Twitter to share their wisdom. Many of the participants were talented writers, who desperately wanted to start blogs to grow their reach, but the technology was a hindrance for them.

In teaching colleagues across the religious spectrum about the vital tools of social media and blogging, we all discovered new opportunities to engage our audience and impact more people within our own respective faith traditions and beyond with our religious insights. Personally, I also learned a great deal about other faiths, the modern challenges of their leadership, and new ways for these religious leaders to exploit 21st century communication models to teach, preach and inspire a new generation.

Must a Rabbi Report Confidential Confessions?

Earlier this week, I received a phone call from Niraj Warikoo, the religion editor of the Detroit Free Press. He told me that he was assisting another reporter on a local news story and had a few questions for me. Niraj described the case to me.

In 2009, a young girl reported to police that two years earlier when she was 9-years-old she was raped by a 15-year-old male cousin at a sleepover at her home. The boy's pastor was informed of the allegation and he summoned the boy and his mother to the Metro Baptist Church in Belleville, Michigan to be questioned about the incident. The boy confessed to his pastor about the rape and then they prayed. The pastor, Rev. John Vaprezsan, went to the authorities and has since testified about the confession. Is that legal? Is that ethical?

It's a horrible situation, but it also presents a host of interesting legal and ethical questions about what is known as pastor-penitent privilege. This privilege varies from state to state, but in Michigan it is protected in the same way as attorney-client privilege. In the Detroit Free Press article I explained that I honor the confidentiality of people who confess to me, but "if information that is confided in me would lead to serious harm of another human being, I would feel compelled to tell the authorities. That would include situations of abuse."

It is important that people have a safe space to speak in confidence with their religious leader in addition to their attorney. Judaism does not place the same emphasis on confession as the Catholic faith does, but we do want people to feel comfortable speaking with their rabbi while they're in the process of repentance.

Last night I appeared on Detroit's Fox News affiliate to discuss this topic along with Ray Cassar, the defense attorney for the boy accused of rape. It was a very interesting discussion in which I fully agreed that in this case the pastor's testimony about the accused's confession should not be admissible in court. It is very important to protect the confidential discussions between clergy and congregant (or pastor and parishioner in this case). However, if I ever felt that confidential information I was given by a congregant could prevent a tragic act from taking place, I would feel compelled to break that confidentiality. In that case, the Jewish concept of pikuach nefesh (saving a life) would dictate my decision.

Here is the video of last night's episode of "Let It Rip" on Fox2 Detroit: