As an active member in the Orthodox community at the University of Maryland for the past two and a half years, I have learned that college students have the chance to influence the culture of the college they attend and lend their voices to the decisionmaking process in the campus religious community in a way they were never able to do in their home congregations. At universities, the maximum age difference between the youngest and oldest members is four or five years, creating a relatively equal power distribution between newer and more established community members. At Maryland, no community member has been around for decades, and as a result our traditions tend to evolve more frequently and fluidly than in non-college communities. Because we come from different communities, each with its own customs, our Jewish experience at college exposes us to a diversity of traditions. This heightens our awareness of our communal practices and the possible changes, adaptations, and compromises that may be necessary to accommodate all members of the larger Orthodox community on campus. Developing this awareness is not easy, but doing so may be the most important task for any traditional college community.
Shabbat highlights this challenge. For example, in the Maryland Orthodox community, Shabbat minyanim attract many more students than weekday minyanim. With a crowd of up to 350 students attending Kabbalat Shabbat services on a given Friday night, there is a much more upbeat, spirited, and, at times, even overwhelming atmosphere than at weekday services. Services take place in the Hillel building, which is also home to the smaller Conservative and Reform minyanim. Kabbalat Shabbat is mostly followed by large Shabbat meals and frequent ongei Shabbat attended by members from each sub-community, whether in the Hillel building or at students’ apartments. Thus, Shabbat brings our community together in a way that gives a stake to everyone who participates in it. Additionally, as we are developing our individual selves, our Shabbat experiences allow us to infuse that personal development with a sense of common purpose. As do many others, I value this as a critical part of my college experience,
Another aspect of the Shabbat culture that is unique to college communities is the variety of gender roles, both religious and social, that operate within our communal framework. At Maryland, many students live in apartments with kitchens, which means that they frequently prepare their own Shabbat meals. These conditions have created a dynamic in which both men and women prepare for Shabbat. Male and female students in almost equal numbers shop for food, bake hallah, and cook their meals. Additionally, because we are separated from our families, many students take on new rituals that they used to depend on their parents to perform. For example, students who never lit Shabbat candles in their homes, males in particular, begin lighting Shabbat candles in college, and although sometimes hesitantly, many female students recite kiddush and hamotzi on a regular basis. These modifications may not only be a product of our independence; our secular surroundings may play a role in bringing them about as well. I know that I have felt empowered to actively take on these rituals by the many sociology and gender-related courses I have taken, as well as by my understanding of halakha.
Additionally, the Maryland college community offers women more opportunities to participate in Shabbat rituals than any other community of which I have ever been a part. Divrei Torah are staples during Kabbalat Shabbat and se’udah shlishit and are most often delivered by students, both male and female. There are women’s shiurim on Shabbat, and women’s tefilla groups on Rosh Hodesh, and several other opportunities for female members to actively participate on both individual and communal levels. Sometimes however, instances arise that evoke feelings of frustration in me as an Orthodox Jewish woman. Consequently, although Shabbat brings an unparalleled sense of kedusha and unity to my week, it also creates some disappointments.
Shabbat is the time when we gather, pray, and practice as a community; thus we must make certain decisions in regard to the development of Shabbat ritual. This may be the most significant of our community’s challenges. Men’s increased involvement in the traditionally “female” roles discussed above such as preparing for Shabbat and lighting candles is not so controversial, at least not from a halakhic perspective. These role changes have, therefore, not caused too much controversy. However, some attempts to increase women’s participation in tefilla and in other rituals have indeed sparked debate. Last year, for example, a group of women in our community presented the idea of passing the Torah to the women’s side of the mehitza on its way back to the aron on Shabbat morning. This suggestion evoked strong feelings. As a result, everyone involved was forced to evaluate the hashkafa of our community and the extent to which we, as communal members, could and should influence ritual change. Although our community has three rabbinic figures to answer our tough questions (our JLI rabbi in charge of Jewish learning programming, our Chabad rabbi, and our Hillel director who is also an Orthodox rabbi), this decision was ultimately left up to the community itself. The process that ensued was a long and complicated one, but ultimately, our community decided against the change. Some students felt uncomfortable with making such a “progressive” change, and others were not convinced by the claim that passing the Torah to the other side of the mehitza is halakhically permissible. Consequently, a significant percentage of both men and women expressed opposition to the idea, and it was not implemented.
In the academic, often times liberal, atmosphere of college, it can be difficult to accept that we are unable to make ritual changes that do not seem to contradict halakha. That is a lesson far removed from the messages of innovation and equality advocated by many of our professors and classmates. Such is the tension inherent in being a member of a religious community on a college campus. As shapers of our community, we deal with this tension by coming to terms with the differences in the personalities and backgrounds that constitute it. Only when we examine the larger picture can we make peace with the frustrations sometimes associated with building and maintaining a community.
One vital aspect of this communal examination involves recognizing the experiences that shape the lenses of its members. Before coming to Maryland, many students spent a gap year in Israel on various year programs, including a wide array of yeshivot and seminaries. For many, the combination of Jewish day school upbringings with these very influential gap year experiences created specific expectations and concerns about the influences of a secular university environment.
I spent a year at Midreshet Lindenbaum, and I know that it has profoundly affected my college experience. During my year in Israel, I was motivated to embrace my role as an active member in the Orthodox community, not despite my gender but because of it. Now, I am aware that this experience is not that of every student who went to Israel or even of every student who attended Midreshet Lindenbaum. I understand that many students feel a strong imperative to connect to their religious experiences and that feeling manifests itself in different ways. For some like me, that means taking on or attempting to take on new religious roles. For others it means protecting the traditions to which they are accustomed in the midst of an environment focused on change. This could be the reason why many students feel uncomfortable with being part of the ritual change process as well as with the ritual changes themselves. As someone who has tried to exert some influence on my surroundings, I have come not only to accept but also respect this reason.
As a female Orthodox student who has had the opportunity to read Torah at Rosh Hodesh women’s davening, deliver a d’var Torah during Kabbalat Shabbat, and say kiddush, hamotzi and havdalah on a regular basis, I am grateful and honored to be a part of the Maryland Orthodox Community. Despite the tensions and sporadic feelings of discomfort that have come from our inability to change ritual in certain cases, it is clear that being a part of a vibrant Orthodox college community that strives for unity, where individuals and subgroups have the chance to listen to the viewpoints of others and, for the sake of the larger entity, are prepared to accept decisions even when disagreeing with them, has special benefits. Shabbat highlights these benefits for us, providing a time for rest and relaxation, and especially for communal gathering and active participation. According to Abraham Joshua Heschel, “Shabbat is like a palace in time with a kingdom for all. It is not a date, but an atmosphere.” The Maryland Shabbat atmosphere can certainly be challenging, but it is clear to me that our challenges stem from our community’s attempt to fulfill Heschel’s words and ultimately create a kingdom for all. Although this may be a frustrating process, it is a necessary one of which I am proud to be a part.