Lessons from LIMMUD NY

Recently my family and I attended LIMMUD NY, a four day Jewish learning experience. Over 850 people participated in what was essentially the educational equivalent of a delicious buffet with something for everyone.

A big part of the excitement at LIMMUD comes from the fact that multiple sessions run concurrently, so people need to choose what they will attend. It is not uncommon to hear participants bemoan the fact that there are so many excellent choices they don't know what to do. "Do I go hear Danny Gordis or Ruth Messenger? Vanessa Hidary or Eli Valley?" 

The creative tension from these conversations was inspiring. In an age of soundbites, it was refreshing to decide how to spend a quality 60 to 75 minutes of Torah Lishmah (study for its own sake). Going to what you want also infuses the conference with an open quality. LIMMUD calls this "learning without limits". 

LIMMUD, which means learning, was the brainchild of Clive Lawton of the UK. This powerful experience has several pillars that contribute to its success. The first one is an open environment that welcomes meaningful engagement. No labels, no boundaries, just learning. While most people come to learn, many were there as volunteers. In fact, every speaker volunteers, for no speaker is paid. This conference constitutes an egalitarian effort that is actualized by all those who attend. 

The only leadership label is that of "connectors", volunteers who have been asked to start conversations, introduce people and to keep the discussions going in the hallways, over meals and in the elevators. By the way, elevators are the best places to make new friends.

Another pillar is empowerment. As mentioned above, participants are responsible to make their own schedules. So much so that no announcements were made during the 4 days. Schedules were readily handed out and available via a schedule app. This empowering atmosphere is similar to making your own playlist on your iPod. Just like finding the right song on your playlist, at LIMMUD it is commonplace for participants to float from session to session until they find what speaks to them during that time slot. 
 
I was deeply impressed that people came because they just wanted to be there. The spirit of openness, sincere curiosity and amazing choices were simply amazing. And it helped that my kids loved Camp LIMMUD, which was run by incredible staff who were trained by Ramah Nyack!

One eye-opening experience for me was the large number of Conservative Jews in attendance. United Synagogue conventions have become smaller over the past decade than in previous years. Similar to trends regarding the UJC GA, some have claimed that these declining numbers can be attributed to changes in leadership, membership, priorities, volunteerism, the movement in particular and American Judaism in general.

Interesting enough, at least half of the LIMMUD NY participants come from the Conservative Movement, including their executive director, David Wolkin, who studied at JTS. In fact, the largest synagogue group came from Tifereth Israel, the Conservative congregation in Glen Cove, NY, with 17 people. The number of people who officially registered as Conservative is 28%, and from observing who went to what service on Shabbat and multiple conversations about affiliation, I believe this number to be over 50%.  That hundreds of Conservative Jews came simply to learn is a a sign of vitality. 

What does this mean? It means that people will attend a conference when they believe that it will be personally meaningful. LIMMUD NY was not inexpensive, yet people came. People will travel, volunteer, study, be open to new ideas if the experience speaks to them, inspires them, and is essentially about them. If a conference will enhance their lives, nurture their souls, expand their minds, they will come.

As you may know, I work for United Synagogue and I am working on the program component of our next conference on October 11-15 in Baltimore. We are planning an unforgettable gathering  to mark the 100th birthday of United Synagogue and the impact of Conservative Judaism.  This "Centennial Celebration" is already coming together.  We are delighted that Rabbi Harold Kushner, Vanessa Hidary, Rabbi Brad Artson, Clive Lawton (mentioned above)  and other dynamic North American thought leaders from both within and outside Conservative Judaism will be with us.

Deeply inspired by the LIMMUD model, we are creating an experience that will attract participants because the topics and takeaways are directly related to today's challenges and opportunities.  Moreover, the tagline of this conference, "The Conversation of the Century", bespeaks our commitment to convene open, relevant discussions and workshops instead of speeches by "talking heads". 

Recognizing the need for different and new voices, the Centennial will feature presenters, facilitators and speakers from all world reflecting a mix of generations and genders. 

The only part of LIMMUD that was not exceptional was the services. Rabbi David Ingber's service on Friday night was the one prayer highlight. It seems that the program is called LIMMUD (study) and not "Tefilla" (prayer) for a reason.

At the Centennial Shabbaton we will feature multiple services on Friday night and Shabbat morning. Rabbi Lizzi Heydemann will lead a spiritual service with her Mishkan Chicago davening team, Hazzan David Propis will lead a cantorial service, Dale Shatz - the backbone of "Friday Night Live" - will conduct a musical service, and Yehuda Solomon of Moshav Band will lead a Carlebach service. The Centennial will be for services what LIMMUD is for study. I already can't decide which service to attend!  

With these prayer options and dynamic learning opportunities, we are confident that we are creating a powerful experience that will attract not only those who consider themselves Conservative Jews, but also anyone who is interested in and committed to a vibrant future for North American Jewry and worldwide.

The lesson from LIMMUD is: Empower people with fantastic choices that are relevant in their lives and they will come ... and come back again.

Inspiration is a Two Way Street

Over the next week we will welcome back the lulav and etrog to play a central role in our spiritual lives during Succot. Part of their allure is figuring out the meaning of this commandment and the four species of this ritual package - the palm, myrtle, willow and citron. Are they symbols of the harvest? Reminders of Eden? Tools for repentance?

The rabbis in the Talmud offer various interpretations about the symbolism of the lulav. One midrash explains that the four species represent body parts comprising a person in service of God. Others understand the lulav's components as different personality types found in a kehilla, a sacred community. 

That there are four components of the lulav brought together is significant. The number four reminds me of the four corners of the earth that we recall when we gather our tzitzit before reciting the Shema. We pray every day that Jews from every corner of the earth be united and reunited one day soon in the land of Israel. The gathering of our tzitzit is a spiritual symbolic microcosm of the in-gathering of the Jewish people.

While this prayer sets up a beautiful aspiration, our current reality does not feel so inspirational.

In his latest book, The Promise of Israel, Rabbi Daniel Gordis explores the increasingly distant relationship between Israel and diaspora Jews. While the ongoing conflict with the Palestinians is part of this divide, he believes that a more important reason is at play, namely that American Jews don't feel that they need Israel any more. Arguing that nothing could be farther from the truth, Gordis writes: "What Israel has done is to change the existential condition of Jews everywhere, even in the United States. Without the state of Israel, the self-confidence and sense of belonging that American Jews now take for granted would quickly disappear."

I agree with many of Rabbi Gordis' ideas, but he misses the point that inspiration is a two way street. The light does not just come from Zion to us in the USA; we, too, can be a light unto Israel.

The latest example of this phenomenon is Aly Raisman, from my hometown of Needham, MA. Aly won the gold medal at the London Olympics in the individual floor gymnastics. I want to share an open letter to Aly from an Israeli Soldier posted on Facebook on August 10, 2012:

Dear Aly,

I want to tell you about how you became the hero of a gym full of Israeli soldiers. The same Israeli soldiers who have to deal with Iran's nuclear threat to the Jewish state. The same ones who serve two-to-three years of their lives, because we have to; because there's no one else that would do it besides us, because our neighborhood sucks, and when the leadership next door in Syria massacres their own people, there's no way we would let them lay hands on our kids, as foreign dictators have done for thousands of years.

You picked a song for your floor routine in the Olympics that every Jewish kid knows, whether their families came from the shtetls of Eastern Europe, the Asian steppes of Azerbaijan, the mountains of Morocco or the Kibbutzim of northern Israel. It's that song that drew almost everyone at the Israeli army base gym to the TV as soon as the report about you came on the news this morning. After showing your floor exercise to Hava Nagila, the announcer told about your gold medal with unmasked pride, and of your decision to dedicate it to the Israeli athletes who were killed in the Munich Olympics in 1972.

There were some tough people at that gym, Aly. Men and Women, Battalion Commanders from Intelligence, Captains from the navy, Lieutenants from the Armored Corps and more. You probably understand that words like 'bravery' and 'heroism' carry a lot of weight coming from them, as does a standing ovation (even from the people doing ab exercises.) There was nothing apologetic about what you did. For so long we've had to apologize for who we are: for how we dress, for our beliefs, for the way we look. It seems like the International Olympic Committee wanted to keep that tradition. Quiet, Jews. Keep your tragedy on the sidelines. Don't disturb our party.

They didn't count on an 18 year-old girl in a leotard.

There wasn’t one person at the gym who didn’t know what it was like to give back to our people, not one who didn’t know what happened to the good people who died in 1972, not one who didn’t feel personally insulted by their complete neglect in the London Olympics, the 40 year anniversary of their deaths, and not one who didn’t connect with your graceful tribute in their honor.

Thank you for standing up against an injustice that was done to our people. As I was walking back to my machine at the gym, I caught one of the officers give a long salute to your image on television. I think that says it all.

Sincerely, Dan Yagudin, Officer, Israeli Defense Force

By choosing to compete to "Hava Nagila", Aly taught Israel and Jewry worldwide that diaspora Jews can be partners in healing past wounds, and, equally important, generating new forms of Jewish pride.

By living as a Jew with her head held high, Aly brought together Jews from all over the globe with a sense of purpose and connection similar to the four species of the lulav.

This year let's embrace the idea that the lulav and etrog can also represent Jews from the four corners of the world. Like the different components of the lulav, each one of us has a special role to play and something unique to contribute.  

By bringing the four species of the lulav together, we express our hope for unity, shared purpose and peace for Israel and all of humanity. Equally important, we are reminded that inspiration can come from many places.