Shabbat Vayera

Written by Monique Mayer Wednesday, 23 November 2005

Parashat Vayera 2005

Picture yourself, an adult male, freshly circumcised, by yourself, sitting on a very hot day, being greeted by three visitors. Now picture yourself running hither and yon, making meal preparations for these three visitors. Whether each of us is or is not male, I think we would find difficulty in following through on these very actions that Avraham performed in this week’s parashah. Fortunately, we don’t have to go to such extremes to make people feel welcome in our communities, yet at times one might think that asking community members to make others feel welcome would be as much as asking them to greet visitors after having been circumcised!

Every year we read about Avraham’s hospitality to his guests; we hold him up as a shining example of what to be. But whether consciously or not, it can be easy to become like the unnamed host in the Talmud who was guilty of being inhospitable. In the story, the affronted man was so angry that he sought revenge, not only against his host, but against the entire city of Jerusalem (Gittin 55b-56a). Whether or not the story is true, the message is that being inhospitable to even one person has greater repercussions for the community.

Last week I had a conversation with some colleagues about making people feel welcome in our communities. We repeatedly hear staggering statistics about the decline of the Jewish community. We express concern about the number of people leaving Judaism whether by marrying out (and staying out) or because they feel disconnected or disenfranchised. Many communities are bolstering their efforts to reach out to these people, developing programmes to “bring them back”. I think those efforts are important and often admirable, but I also think that we could miss the boat on a basic mitzvah. Hospitality is more than making our communities attractive by providing activities. We need to make ourselves accessible on a personal level. In this frantic, hurried society, what people are missing is connection. There are so many demands on their time and resources during the rest of the week that the average Jew wants to walk into a community that accepts them for just being there, not only for what they might contribute. When people feel welcome and accepted, they want to be a part of that community. They will participate, join, and get involved. When people do not feel welcome--if they have to work hard to “be a part of the club” or prove they are “worthy”--they may walk out the door and never return. And then they will tell friends about the experience; the friends, in turn, may not go the synagogue to either. One of the basic axioms of customer service is that if someone has a bad experience they tell at least 15 of their friends. If they have a good experience, they might tell three. Being inhospitable to one person can have greater repercussions for the community.

Several years ago, following increasing comments of how large and impersonal our congregation in Austin, Texas was becoming, we instituted a new practice. At the end of Erev Shabbat service, the rabbi made an announcement, “If you are a newcomer, please grab a blue mug at the oneg and come introduce yourself. If you are a regular, please seek out three people you don’t know and make them feel welcome.” The rabbi admitted, about a month later, that at first he thought the idea was pretty hokey. But he was also the first to say that it seemed to be working and members were taking the message to heart, seeking out newcomers to welcome them. Visitors often remarked how warm and friendly our congregation was. True, there is a fine line between greeting people out of a sense of mitzvah and approaching them with the agenda of getting new members. I once walked into a community in Massachusetts and the first thing I was greeted with was...can you guess? Was it “hello” or “how are you” or “are you visiting”? No, it was “so, when are you joining?” Hospitality, true hakhnasat orchim, must be sincere and express genuine appreciation for the person being there, whatever agenda there might be.

The Chabad movement is very good at hospitality, and they have an agenda. Churches also seem to excel at making people feel welcome and they, too, have an agenda. Why are churches growing so quickly in the United States? Something happens when people walk into a church. They receive a very warm reception and immediate acceptance. The churches are true sanctuaries because people feel safe and they feel like they have come home. Don’t we want our visitors to feel that way about our communities, to feel like they have come home? I think the key to building our community is by opening our hearts as well as our doors. We need to live the mitzvah of hakhnasat orchim from the inside out.

Let us be gracious hosts, carrying on Avraham’s legacy, as we take this message and intention into our communities.

Monique Mayer