Over the course of my (nearly) four years attending Hillel services on a near-weekly basis, I have had many different experiences. My first week of college, I was appalled by the un-spirited service-attendees and minimalist ultra-Reform service my Hillel offered. It worked for a few, but not for me. The following year I was thrilled to attend a service that actually included the full Shema and Amidah, while still incorporating “Reform” elements to please everyone. I have experienced crowds of 10 people at Shabbat dinner freshman year to over 50 this year and everywhere in between. I have had great experiences with a close-knit group of people, poor experiences with larger crowds, and vice versa. I have been horribly nervous while leading a seemingly-disastrous service and had wonderful experiences leading 80 other Jews in worship. Depending on the week, it seems, Hillel never offers the same greeting to its attendees twice.
But that is just the issue: the greeting. Synagogues always preach to their regular members: always greet guests with a friendly smile; welcome them when they walk in; talk to them during Kiddush; etc. etc. Hillel is really no different. Our building each have a stigma associated with them and it is largely based on student’s first few experiences. If they are welcomed in a friendly way, they often enjoy Hillel and remain involved. If they are ignored, sometimes they’ll stick around if religion is very important to them but generally they steer clear of Hillel in the future. And if they are rejected because of judgmental people who find this or that wrong with them, they most certainly will not return to Hillel.
So why am I talking about this? Because I have experienced and witnessed all of these treatments at Hillel, but this past Friday at Miami’s Hillel I thought we had an extraordinarily welcoming feel. Approximately 30 students attended services and 40 students were at dinner. These students consisted of mostly Jewish students, but there were new faces in the crowd: uninvolved Jews, prospective students, anthropology students ‘studying’ our subculture, non-Jewish friend and roommates, and Christian students (we occasionally have Muslim students attend as well). No one was out of place, no one felt uncomfortable. Everyone was greeted with smiles before and after the service, newcomers sat with regulars at dinner, and we talked about anything from our past week to our different backgrounds to that night’s parties to Purim’s theologically problematic texts.
I gave a d’var during the service about the two mitvoth of Purim that are meant to unite the Jewish people and broader society. We cannot be “scattered and separate” as Haman told King Achashveirosh we were. We practice Mishloach Manot, sending gifts to family, friends, and neighbors; and Matanot l’Evyonim, giving gifts or charity to the poor, to create a community and sense of unity among all peoples. It was quite a fitting week for our Hillel to have such a welcoming environment.
Hopefully on all future Shabbatot and Hillel events at college campuses throughout the world we can strive for and achieve this same sense of comfort and unity.
