Every Friday evening in Crown Heights was
considered to be a holy experience. Jewish men of all ages would briskly walk
through the windy Brooklyn streets, recognizing familiar faces as they entered
Shabbat together. From a distance, one could see a swarm of black hats enter
the modest home of the Hasidic Rebbe,
where hundreds would gather to sit at his tisch.
Melodious niggunim would be chanted,
the volume of the singing increasing with each new tune. The Rebbe’s words of wisdom would echo
through his dining room walls; they would enhance the warmth of Shabbat
alongside the innumerable plates of chicken and vegetables. This tradition
thrived in Hasidic communities; the Rebbe’s
tisch was just one of the many enlightening factors that united that Jewish
community.
Considering that the word tisch is a Yiddish term for table, it
seems unusual that such a concept should be limited to religious Jews. Shortly
after, however, I learned that a tisch
is not only a Hasidic table of singing and eating Jews; it is rather a
universal value that can be expanded to every community we visit.
A rejuvenating tisch is not limited to any age or gender. In fact, one does not
need to a learned rabbinic figure to host such an enlightening experience. As a
spiritually seeking seventeen year old, I found an ideal community in the
grassy green acres of Clayton, Georgia. My growing passion for Judaism is
nurtured and fostered at Camp Ramah Darom, a Conservative Jewish summer camp
that eternally impacted my life. This past summer, I formed a unique bond with
seventy-one other teens my age, each with a passion that compiled into one
remarkable tisch. Every Friday
evening, my Gesher eidah, or age
group, would congregate around long tables and jubilantly sing various z’mirot together, laughing at the solos
and hand motions that others would incorporate to the songs. Full from plates
of baked chicken and boiled potatoes, my friends and I would listen attentively
to the rebbes, or our college counselors,
share personal stories regarding their faith and theology. This tradition
constitutes a typical Shabbat evening at Camp Ramah Darom; it is what truly
epitomizes the magic found there every summer.
After my life changing summers at Camp Ramah
Darom, I was determined to find that same tisch,
energy, and faith that my Conservative Jewish summer home provided. Eventually
I came to realize that no two tables are alike; we must strive to create new
spiritual circles rather than replicate them.
A tisch
can be formed by a group of people that recognizes a common passion they share.
That passion, however, need not be affiliated to any one Jewish denomination or
synagogue. During my freshman year of high school, I was exposed to pluralistic
Judaism during a RAVSAK teen shabbaton known as “Moot Beit Din.” With a common
love for davening, studying, and debating, high school students from all over
the country gathered for this one weekend in D.C to recognize and strengthen
Jewish pluralism. Despite our denominational differences, my new friends and I
were able to sit around a table on that Friday night and contribute to a
memorable tisch, filled with rituals
of every sect of Judaism. I sang with teens from every mark of the Jewish
spectrum, expanding my standards for communal faith.
More recently, I have discovered that the
essence of a tisch can be shared with
other organized religions. I found myself delving into powerful discussions
with my interfaith group, Common Ground Friends, over boxes of pizza at the
local united Methodist church. Teens who are spiritually engaged in their own
churches, mosques, and other worship centers joined me around a casual table in
the church’s humble fellowship hall to share our religious differences, but
also embrace the common ground that unites us all. Through music, food, and
dialogue—everything which constitutes a traditional tisch—I fostered my own Jewish values while meeting teens that I
consider my greatest friends today.
An ideal tisch
community is nonexistent. How you expand your table, however, is what truly
defines your walk of faith.
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