Dough as I Say- the harm being done by some funders of kiruv programs

[This is the second in a series of posts on some of the problems with how kiruv is done. To read the first post, click here.]

Several years ago, I spoke with an advisor from NCSY after a shabbaton. When asked to reflect on the weekend, she told me that while there had been some positives, she was upset that there were nearly 500 kids who attended. Noticing my surprise that this was not a good thing, she explained that there was not nearly enough space, advisors and programming to accommodate that many attendees. When pressed to explain why she thought space had not been limited beforehand, this advisor, who knew the workings of that NCSY region, explained that it was to impress funders, who wanted to see large numbers.

This is just one example of what I consider to be a troubling phenomena; funders of kiruv pushing for high numbers, at the cost of an approach that treats each person as a, well, person. This approach is not only dehumanizing, it also makes it much less likely that the potential ba’al teshuva will have a real relationship with their mekarev, and thus, will have less guidance as they become more observant. Furthermore, it rewards those mekarvim who are willing to buy into this approach, over those who want to do things the right way.

Perhaps, one might object that I am telling people what to do with their money, but I think this is more of a case of giving sound business advice. At the end of the day, a good and ethical businessman wants to produce a good product, and would not sacrifice quality for quantity. This approach might lead to less profits in the short term, but leads to much greater success in the long term. From a business perspective it is true that one can quantify how many people attend a shabbaton, or how many college students a mikarev speaks to each day, but that’s just it. Effective and sincere kiruv has nothing to do with numbers. the goal isn’t, or at least, it shouldn’t be, to reach as many “customers” as possible. The goal is to help people improve on their relationship with haShem, which is an approach which is not limited to ba’alei teshuva.

Objects can be mass-produced. Sincere ovdei HaShem can not. Good mikarvim, and those who fund them, need to know and appreciate the difference.

"Several years ago, I spoke with an advisor from NCSY after a shabbaton. When asked to reflect on the weekend, she told...

Posted by Pesach Sommer on Thursday, January 14, 2016

Educators or Salesmen- What is the goal when it comes to kiruv?

One Friday night several years ago, I walked into shul and realized something was going on. The sanctuary was more crowded than usual, and there was a large group of casually dressed college-aged students sitting at several tables. I soon realized that there was a kiruv shabbaton going taking place in my community, and that they had decided to daven with us on Friday night. As Kabbalas Shabbos started, I became aware that we would not be davening in the same way we daven each week. The chazzan, who was part of the shabbaton, sang a great deal, and even started dancing at the end of Lecha Dodi. I remember wondering whether the young men who were attending the shabbaton knew that this was not the typical way we davened each Shabbos, or, quite honestly, any other Shabbos.

I noticed something else that night. As davening continued well past its usual time, a few locals started getting a bit chatty. A counselor from the shabbaton came over to one man and asked him to stop talking, explaining that it would look bad to the shabbaton attendees. It wasn’t until later that I thought about this exchange. Why was the counselor so worried that davening would look “right” to the attendees? What might have happened had it became clear that some people talk during davening?

Over the past few years, I’ve become aware of a certain phenomenon. I’ve met and spoken with a number of baalei teshuva who are experiencing some degree of “buyer’s remorse”. As they’ve discovered that the religious world is more complex than they were taught as they were becoming religious, and as they’ve met our community’s knaves as well as its heroes, they have become somewhat disillusioned. This is not what they thought they were getting when they signed up. For many of those who attended yeshivahs and seminaries in Israel, their formative frum experience involved only being around very inspiring teachers and communities. For some others, they were given a less than clear picture of the complexities of the observant world, leading  some to feel that the one who was mikarev them was more of a salesman than a teacher.

What would be the results if kiruv programs allowed people to see all parts of the frum community, the good, the not so good, and, yes, the ugly? What would be the effect of a Shabbos meal without planned talking points, and where people talked about what they usually discuss, and not what they think the guest should hear? While some people might come away a little less inspired, this approach would allow people to make a real choice about the world that they are choosing. Additionally, this would have the result of fewer people feeling that they were misled by the whole kiruv process. If the goal is not to find new recruits, but rather to educate people about their heritage, an honest and open approach seems like the better way to go.

[I originally wrote this post several months ago, but decided to not publish it. Now, with kiruv back in the news, due...

Posted by Pesach Sommer on Wednesday, January 6, 2016