On Saturday night, I went to our Hillel’s welcoming ceremony for the new rabbi. I guess they decided it would be a good idea to start out with a Havdala ceremony, but no amount of gentle singing could compensate for the lighting of yet another candle – under the luminous rays of the bright 7:00 PM pre-shkiah sun. Two kids held the candle, and a random lady stood there singing gently and passing around the spice box. Then we watched as they sang Eliyahu Hanavi in a circle. I sulked.
I wasn’t sulking because they didn’t care about doing all this nonsense in the middle of the day. I was sulking for everyone sitting with me in the pews—those people had no idea what they were saying or doing. It’s one thing to think about it and decide you don’t care, it’s another to never know. We could be saying “Blessed are you who commands us to break the commandments” or whatever that Shabbetai Tzvi used to say, and no one would be the wiser. If someone (like me, for example) pointed out that they’d just lit a giant candle in the middle of Shabbat, they’d probably say “Huh…I thought Shabbat ended this morning.”
I’m starting to see that I will have to confront the fact that there is a large demographic interested in non-halachic Judaism – and everyone here seems fine with that. I presume they also find meaning in it. So maybe there is something in Judaism besides halacha. I could get into that. Maybe.
But what is that thing? “Cultural Judaism”? Our Hillel has apparently picked this option. A few days ago, I went to a rather odd Hillel meeting—it was literally held in secretly. We were specially invited by this one guy who walked across campus with us afterwards, saying things like “Honestly, this campus is anti-Israel” and “The Hillel board is upset with us because we’re not doing what we’re supposed to be doing.”
I started to pick up some clues that our Hillel was entirely focused on “the cultural aspect;” not the greatest goal for a Hillel to have, considering that their mission statement is a bit loftier than that. I’m not sure when exactly I figured this out, although it did become clearer the moment they collectively decided to “cancel Shabbat” next weekend because that’s “Busch Gardens weekend.”
At the secret meeting, we talked about “events,” catering, and having some comedian come to the school. Annoyed, I finally suggested a nice educational discussion group. Perhaps we could even invite the rabbi that we’d just ceremonially welcomed. But as the Hillel president quickly retorted, past experience told her that Jews on this campus want social events only. It started to become obvious that nothing substantial was happening here. Now I’m confronted with this new roadblock I should have expected but didn’t: Jewish life on our campus is looking entirely superficial (I’ve yet to determine whether or not this is Hillel’s fault).
It seems that our Hillel has resigned itself to the disturbingly ambivalent position that we should only give people what they want. “We tried to have a rabbi come lead a discussion group (two years ago), and people just don’t want it.” I’d mentioned that all the other religious groups on campus somehow manage many such events, and they are well-attended—but the president went on to tell me that we’re not like other religious groups. Yes, there are 200 Jews on this campus, and only about ten come to any given “event,” but that’s good enough for us. We’re just different.
Wow, my first experience trying to engage Jews who vehemently don’t want my engagement – probably the first of many. Still, walking home from the meeting and chattering frantically with my friend on how we can fix this “engagement” problem made me realize how important to me this goal really is. I mean, look at me, I’m ready to alienate our only Hillel, to invite pro-Israel speakers onto our anti-Israel campus, to waste any favor I might have had with Hillel by running around with my radical ideas, or even doing my own events entirely outside of Hillel (and on a small campus like this, they’d notice).
It’s because we have 200 Jews and only ten of them are doing anything about it. I can’t stand it. I would do anything. I know what happens when uninterested, uninvolved Jews grow up—they become adults who lose the chance to even decide whether they do care anymore. Hillel is bored, jaded and doesn’t care that they don’t care.
I may need to overthrow it.
Laura Cooper is a Religious Studies major at the College of William & Mary in Williamsburg, VA. Her other interests include graphic novels, punk rock, and fancy teas. Her column, The Jew in the Boonies, appears here on alternating Sundays.
