Forty Years of Change

 

To mark the milestone of Jewish Action’s fortieth anniversary, we turn back to the 1980s and trace the arc of four decades of change. In this wide-ranging symposium, we asked writers and thinkers to reflect on the religious, cultural and communal shifts they’ve witnessed. And as we look back, one truth stands clear: the conversation that began forty years ago is still alive, still unfolding, still essential. 

 

 

Demographic Changes in the US Jewish Population: 1980s–2020s
By Jonathan Dimbert

 

 

Counting Jews has always been complicated. Even in the Torah, Hashem tells Moshe to collect half-shekels instead of just counting heads (Shemot 30:12). Modern surveys are no easier. They use differing methods, are conducted infrequently and their findings are often disputed. Still, enough consistent data exist to see a few clear trends. 

Over the past four decades, the US Jewish population has grown only modestly, with big internal shifts: strong growth among Orthodox Jews, a sharp decline in Conservative Judaism and a large rise in Jews who identify with no denomination, while Reform remained relatively steady. 

Jewish Growth Lags Behind Global and US Growth 

Since the 1980s, the world population grew by about 80 percent and the US population by about 50 percent (some of that from immigration).¹ The Jewish population worldwide grew only about 20–30 percent,² and in the US about 25 percent.³ 

Orthodox Growth Outpaces All Others 

Orthodox Jews make up a bigger share of US Jewry than forty years ago. In 1990, about 6 percent of Jews over age eighteen were Orthodox.⁴ By 2020, that number was around 9 percent—roughly 675,000 people.⁵ While modest in percentage terms, the Orthodox adult population nearly doubled in raw numbers since 1990—a 90-percent increase, in sharp contrast to the much slower overall growth of both world and US Jewry. 

Orthodox families have more than twice as many children as non-Orthodox families (3.3 vs. 1.4 children per adult),⁶ so fertility is the primary driver of growth—though the increase in the number of ba’alei teshuvah and converts also contributes.  

Data from the Pew Research Center point to much higher rates of Orthodoxy among children. In 2013, an estimated 27 percent of all US Jewish children under eighteen lived in Orthodox households—nearly triple the adult share. In New York City (2023), that share climbed to 64 percent of Jewish children.⁷  

The Rise of the Unaffiliated 

The number of Jews who say they have no religion or no denomination has risen sharply. In 1990, roughly 20 percent of Jews fell under “other” or “non-denomination.”⁸ By 2020, Pew found that about one-third (32 percent) of American Jews do not belong to any denomination.⁹ This group, sometimes referred to as “Jews for Nothing,” has more than doubled in raw numbers over four decades, a 117-percent increase. Different surveys use different categories, so exact percentages are not perfectly comparable, but the upward trend is clear and consistent. 

The Shrinking Conservative Movement 

In 1990, Reform and Conservative Jews were roughly equal, each making up about a third of US Jewry.¹⁰ By 2020, Reform remained steady at 37 percent, while Conservative had dropped to 17 percent.¹¹ In raw numbers, Reform grew modestly (23 percent), while Conservative declined by nearly 40 percent. Many who left Conservative Judaism moved into Reform, though Reform itself has also lost members to the growing ranks of the unaffiliated. 

Summary 

Over the past forty years, American Jewry has undergone major shifts. The number of Orthodox Jews nearly doubled, rising from 6 percent to 9 percent of the adult population. Reform has held steady at about 37 percent, but that apparent stability masks gains from formerly Conservative Jews alongside losses to the unaffiliated. Conservative Judaism, by contrast, has declined sharply—dropping from 35 percent of US Jewry to 17 percent and losing nearly 40 percent of its population. Meanwhile, Jews with no denominational identity have more than doubled and now comprise about one-third (32 percent) of the community. Yet overall Jewish population growth has remained modest, falling well behind both US and global growth rates. 

Raw growth percentages are calculated using denominational totals from the 1990 National Jewish Population Survey and the 2020 Pew Research Center’s study, Jewish Americans in 2020.  

Notes 

1. UnitedNations,World Population Prospects (2022 revision); US Census Bureau, Historical National Population Estimates.  

2. Jewish Virtual Library, “Jewish Population of the World,” based on Sergio Della Pergola, “World Jewish Population, 2021,” in The American Jewish Year Book, 2023, edited by Arnold Dashefsky and Ira M. Sheskin (Cham, SUI: Springer, 2024). Estimates for 1980 range from 12.0 to 12.8 million Jews worldwide; by 2020, estimates range from 14.8 to 15.1 million. Depending on which baseline is used, this represents growth of roughly 20–30 percent.  

3. Council of Jewish Federations, 1990 National Jewish Population Survey (1991); Pew Research Center, Jewish Americans in 2020 (2021).  

4. Council of Jewish Federations, 1990 National Jewish Population Survey (1991). 

5. Pew Research Center,Jewish Americans in 2020 (2021).  

6. Ibid.

7. Pew Research Center, A Portrait of Jewish Americans (2013), chap. 3; UJA-Federation of New York, “Children and Jewish Education,” The 2023 Jewish Community Study of New York (2023). 

8. See n. 4.

9. See n. 5.

10. See n4. 

11. See n. 5.

 

Jonathan Dimbert is associate director of the OU’s Center for Communal Research, leveraging decades of experience in marketing research and strategy to guide mission-driven growth. 

 

 

Frum Pop Culture
By Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein

 

One of the most remarkable changes in the Orthodox world in recent decades has been the development and flowering of a popular culture independent of the non-Jewish world. There is no one date to link to this; it crept up on us, bit by bit.  

Cultural studies thinkers used to differentiate between high culture and low culture. That binary continues to be useful, even if it is now frowned upon outside of conservative circles. Applied to the Orthodox world, our high culture is Torah. Full stop. That is where we go for edification and uplift. Low culture includes popular literature, music, art, drama and media. For many decades, Orthodox Jews who sought these modes of expression and entertainment (and how many are there who do not?) had to go outside the community to find them. This involved making sometimes difficult decisions about what was appropriate to bring into Jewish homes and what was not. Some succeeded far better than others. 

This cultural independence and self-containment comes at a price. It is easy to slip into an isolationism that is not always healthy. 

Today, all of those expressions are available in home-grown versions. (We will ignore for the moment the ways non-Jewish culture continues to influence ours, unbeknownst to the end consumer.) Every one of them can be found with a kosher mezuzah attached. This has proven to be both a boon and a bane to Orthodox living.  

On the one hand, navigating popular culture is far safer to the Jewish neshamah today than it was in the past. This has made possible a more robust, fuller chinuch of children. Through popular literature and music, we create a surrounding that is suffused with Torah values and good middot. So much that is valuable today can be communicated subliminally, where previously, staving off values contrary to Torah occupied much of our time. 

On the other hand, this cultural independence and self-containment comes at a price. It is easy to slip into an isolationism that is not always healthy. It has become easier to banish everything that comes from outside our virtual walls as foreign, unwanted and negative. This distances some of us from the huge reservoirs of truth and beauty that exist there. It also endangers people spiritually when they discover that there is much that is attractive outside their bubble, despite having been taught that on the other side it is all darkness and ugliness. 

Making it as effortless to grab culture as it is to grab products off a kosher supermarket shelf has another downside as well. Some of us have lost a tool that served us well in the past. Previously, we had to learn how to make informed decisions about what we culturally consumed. We had to apply critical thinking to those issues. That ability, like any other, atrophies when not used—and our cultural independence has allowed some of us to become lazy about its use. 

This is a challenge for the Modern Orthodox community in particular, which has always prided itself on being more accepting and less isolationist. Will it continue to draw from the secular world, despite the awareness that its general drift runs more counter to Torah values than ever? Will it choose instead the comfort of a cultural environment produced and directed by insiders? Or will it—as it has in the past—steer a middle course between these options? 

 

A contributing editor of Jewish Action, Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein teaches Torah, writes, and cohosts the Two Rabbis, Three Opinions podcast in Yerushalayim, where he is also active in interfaith advocacy for Israel. 

 

 

Kashrut—Then and Now

By Rabbi Menachem Genack 

 

In 1980, when I came to the OU, I was the only full-time rabbi working at OU Kosher headquarters. At the time, we certified about 300 companies. Now, the OU certifies over one million products in 15,000 facilities in more than one hundred countries around the globe. Due to the exponential growth we have experienced, we now have fifty-two full-time rabbinic coordinators (RCs) working out of the OU headquarters, each of whom oversees 850 mashgichim, or rabbinic field representatives (RFRs), across the globe. 

The growth of the kashrut industry reflects political, economic and technological changes that have taken place in the world. Some of the expansion of kashrut supervision stems from the globalized world economy. In the past, most food and ingredients were produced domestically. With the rise of globalization, companies began to buy ingredients from all over the world—especially South America, Europe and Asia—which led to an enormous explosion in the kashrut business. As a result of the global nature of the industry, we now must take care to send mashgichim only to countries that are safe, consulting the guidelines of the US State Department. This is one way in which kashrut must now take into account global politics. 

This expansion of kashrut also created the possibility of specialization, and at the OU, RCs each have specific areas of expertise—meat, fish, fowl, wine, dairy, flavors and so on. Our New Companies Department is another development that has contributed to the OU’s growth, while our Flavor Department works with the largest flavor manufacturers in the world—a crucial area of kashrut. 

Another major development over the past forty-five years is technological. In 1980, nothing at the OU was computerized. As the world turned to computerization, we brought in a top IT professional, Sam Davidovics, who served as chief information officer. Among other achievements, he helped create the software for the OU’s Ingredient Approval Registry, a database with more than 2.4 million products. Our database includes both OU-certified products and products certified by other kosher certification agencies that have been assessed and approved by the OU. The ingredients are classified by kashrut sensitivity—some require hashgachah temidit (constant supervision), while others require less intense scrutiny. This information serves as the foundation of kashrut supervision all over the world. The development of modern technology has therefore had a profound impact on how information about kashrut is stored and disseminated.  

Looking to the future, new technologies present both opportunities and challenges for kashrut. For example, lab-grown meat has the potential to change the world of meat production, and addressing its status requires great halachic and technical expertise. The OU, with its access to talmidei chachamim with such specialized knowledge, has been at the forefront of exploring these new developments, continuing its mission of providing the highest quality of kosher food and knowledge in the complex world which we inhabit. 

 

Rabbi Menachem Genack is CEO and rabbinic administrator of OU Kosher. 

 

 

The Evolution of Orthodox Print Media

By Rabbi Dr. Hillel Goldberg 

 

Orthodox print media have generally gone in the opposite direction of print media and have burgeoned enormously, while print media have drastically shrunk. Many American newspapers have gone out of business, and almost all large American dailies are but a shadow of their former selves. Literacy has dropped. Attention spans have declined. But Orthodox Jewry, taken as a whole, continues to read, the ubiquity of smartphones and of online Torah notwithstanding. Orthodox Jewry values the printed word, in part intrinsically and in part because of repugnance over the easy access to salacious material electronically. 

Thus, the Orthodox trajectory since the 1980s charts not only the growth of the Orthodox media that existed forty years ago, but also the successful launch of many new newspapers and magazines. 

Living in Jerusalem in the 1970s and early 1980s, I could read one, perhaps two, weekly Orthodox newspapers. Now, I can’t even count how many exist, and not just in Jerusalem, but all over Israel. Or, to take another example, the daily Hebrew-language Hamodia back then was a few pages. That slim size is now long forgotten. 

Coming ashore to the US, when I first contributed to Jewish Action in the 80s, it was a few pages on newsprint. Its growth in quality and quantity is incalculable. The weekly Yated Ne’eman was also slim forty years ago. Today it is perhaps seven to eight times as large. Forty years ago, Ami Magazine did not exist, nor did Mishpacha. Also, there is now Binah Magazine. There is a daily Hamodia, and the weekly Hamodia publishes in several sections. 

“Orthodox” is not only “Chareidi.” In the past few years, HaMizrachi has grown from a few issues a year to almost monthly, and it is published on several continents! There are now Orthodox newspapers that cater to local Jewish communities in New York and New Jersey. Taken all around, almost any Orthodox Jew can find a printed medium that meets his taste and viewpoint. 

The growth arc of Orthodox media is their primary distinguishing characteristic, but these media are not inured from the drop in attention span that has wrought havoc onto print media in general. It is true that all of the Orthodox media feature long and serious pieces, but most of them are also filled with little boxes, tidbits, short features, graphic grabs—all a concession to the overall drift from what media used to be. 

There certainly are distinct differences within the Orthodox media field. For very well-thought-out coverage of issues—and for moving short essays—I open Jewish Action. For a concentration on Torah, I prefer Yated. For courageous journalism, I like Ami. For tremendous insights into Israelis at war, I look to HaMizrachi. For hard-core news and human-interest features, I read Hamodia. For overall reach, I settle into Mishpacha. There are more quality Orthodox publications out there, the longest standing being the Jewish Press, which, together with the (late) Jewish Observer, initially paved the way. Neither I, nor anyone else, I imagine, can read every Orthodox publication out there. 

One final note: Orthodox Judaism finds its place not only in a burgeoning Orthodox media, but in a greater presence in Jewish community media. There are more Orthodox Jews than there were forty years ago. It is noticed. It is catered to. 

 

Rabbi Dr. Hillel Goldberg is editor and publisher of the Intermountain Jewish News and a contributing editor of Jewish Action. 

 

 

Forty Years of Facing the Music

By Nachum Segal, as told to Sandy Eller 

 

When it comes to Jewish music, the difference between 1985 and 2025 isn’t just forty years, it is night and day. 

Of course, there are artists who have come and gone, and styles and genres have evolved, but to me, the biggest difference in Jewish music over the past four decades is the way music is produced and consumed. 

Think about it. In 1985 you had vinyl records and cassettes, and recording a ten-song album was an expensive investment. You had to rent studio time, hire an arranger and get all the musicians in the same room at the same time, because that’s how music was produced. And if you weren’t composing your own songs, you had to pay for that too. 

The industry was tiny back then, not just because there were fewer Jews consuming music but also because the only people who had any inclination to produce material either had significant financial resources or were confident enough in their success to invest six months of their lives and tens of thousands of dollars in an album. 

With today’s style, excitement and lyrics, Jewish music has really started to appeal to the younger generation, which was unheard of forty years ago. That is a truly amazing development and one that Jewish music can truly be proud of. 

Fast forward forty years, and things are very different. People have home recording studios, and parts of songs can be recorded in any corner of the world, which makes the cost of producing a single substantially lower. There is definitely a glut of Jewish music out there, and on any given day, I can receive ten to fifteen new singles. It’s practically impossible for the average listener to know who is worth listening to unless he pays careful attention to songs as they’re released on social media or on the simchah scene. 

For me, I love how easy it is to set up an iTunes playlist for JM in the AM, which is so much easier than queueing up records as I used to. Still, I miss the days when there were concerts every weekend that you could really enjoy once we changed to standard time. Even the biggest superstars didn’t charge much, so mid-level shuls and communities could host a nice concert. There were times when I could emcee concerts five Saturday nights in a row, but today, for the most part, big concert productions are a thing of the past.  

One of the most amazing things to change in the past forty years is how Jewish music has become cool for the younger generation. We’re way past the day when Jewish music meant Art Raymond or cantorial music, and it isn’t uncommon for a Modern Orthodox school or camp to have a kumzits with Eitan Katz, Shlomo Katz, Aryeh Kunstler, Benny Friedman or any one of a number of popular artists. With today’s style, excitement and lyrics, Jewish music has really started to appeal to the younger generation, which was unheard of forty years ago. That is a truly amazing development and one that Jewish music can truly be proud of. 

 

Nachum Segal has been the host of JM in the AM (M–F 6–9am ET) since 1983. His twenty-four-hour network can be heard on the free Nachum Segal Network app. 

Sandy Eller is a freelance writer who writes for print and web media outlets, as well as private clients. 

 

 

The Expansion of Torah Learning

By Rabbi Gil Student 

 

Forty years ago, the landscape of Torah study looked very different. I remember attending the Agudath Israel of America Daf Yomi Siyum in 1990 and being amazed at the 20,000 attendees praying together. In contrast, the same siyum in 2020 filled a 90,000-seat stadium and an additional 15,000-seat venue. In order to learn Daf Yomi in 1990, a small group gathered in my Teaneck shul and listened to a cassette tape of Rabbi Fischel Schachter. Today there are five Daf Yomi shiurim at my nearby shul and countless Daf Yomi shiurim around the country. And technology offers access to hundreds of shiurim on any smartphone. 

The formal education system mirrors this growth. Enrollment in Jewish day schools and yeshivah high schools has more than doubled since the mid-1980s, creating an entire generation for whom Torah study is foundational (https://avichai.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/AVI-CHAI-Census-2018-2019-v3.pdf). The popular post high-school year in Israel has strengthened both textual skills and commitment to Torah life, producing a generation fluent in serious learning. Popular supplementary programs such as parent-child learning programs and summer learning camps have further woven Torah study into communal life. 

Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, New Jersey, grew from over 1,000 students in 1985 to over 9,000 in 2025, making it one of the largest Torah centers in the world. In 1985, there were fewer than a dozen community kollels across North America. Now more than seventy community kollels have taken root in cities large and small, transforming local Jewish life. This growth in yeshivah attendance and community kollels directly affects the growth of lay learning.  

Many more lay people in 2025 spent significant amounts of time learning seriously in a yeshivah. As already mentioned, the growth of popularity of the gap year in Israel has also greatly increased the number of people who have spent time studying Torah at a high level in yeshivah. Additionally, community kollels cultivate interest through a variety of adult Torah learning options. All these and other factors have successfully created a culture of serious adult Torah study. 

Technology became an unexpected catalyst, speeding things along in ways no one anticipated. The internet and smartphone, with all their spiritual dangers, have significantly contributed to the growth of Torah learning. With OUTorah, All Daf, YUTorah, TorahAnytime and countless other apps, websites and podcasts, Torah study now transcends place and time. Covid-19, though isolating, unleashed a wave of digital Torah that continues today Zoom shiurim, WhatsApp chavrutot and YouTube shiurim accessible at any hour. The publication explosion that started with ArtScroll and continued with many others in English and Hebrew has generated massive libraries of not only Torah content but tools to help people learn classical texts that previously were inaccessible and even prepare readers to give their own shiurim. 

Thanks in part to the publication and technology revolutions, mass learning movements have flourished, including but not limited to Daf Yomi. Other Yomi programs (e.g., Nach and Mishnah), as well as other structured Talmud programs (e.g., Amud Yomi) and halachah programs (e.g., Semichas Chaver), have gained a significant following. There are groups of Torah learners around the world studying standardized materials in tandem and supported by centralized teachers. 

At the same time, the revolution in women’s Torah study has reshaped the community’s intellectual map. The growth of high school Talmud programs for young women and the creation of programs such as Yeshiva University’s GPATS and Nishmat have enabled generations of women to study Gemara and halachic texts. The OU Women’s Initiative is a prime example of the serious Torah study programs for women that are currently thriving. What was once almost an afterthought is growing to be a central feature of Jewish life—serious Torah study as a lifelong pursuit for both men and women.  

While the Jewish people never abandoned the Torah, the past forty years has seen a dramatic increase in Torah study as part of the normative Orthodox lifestyle from youth through later life. The challenge of the next forty years will be ensuring that this unprecedented access deepens not only knowledge but commitment to living Torah in letter and in spirit in daily life. 

 

Rabbi Gil Student is OU director of Jewish Media, Publications and Editorial Communications. 

 

 

Women’s Torah Learning: From Cassette to Community

By Rebbetzin Dr. Adina Shmidman 

 

The sound of Torah learning has changed. Once, it was the soft click of a cassette slipping into a tape recorder; today, it’s the familiar ping of a podcast notification. Yet the desire remains the same—to connect to Torah, to our teachers and to one another. Over the past forty years, that connection has found new expression—moving from tape to touchscreen, from distance to immediacy, from isolation to shared inspiration. 

For women, this transformation has been especially profound. Torah study is no longer bound by subject, time or place. More than what women are studying these days, the most significant change in women’s Torah is how women are studying. With podcasts, Zoom and digital platforms, Torah has become something you can carry—with you on a walk, over morning coffee or on the commute home. These innovations have not only expanded access but also raised the caliber of teaching. Today’s women educators, shaped by years of advanced Torah and academic study, bring both depth and connection to their classrooms. They make Torah feel not only timeless, but timely—a wisdom that meets us where we are. 

Over the past four decades, women’s Torah learning has evolved from a limited sphere to a vibrant global movement. The post–Bais Yaakov generation saw the growth of seminaries in Israel and abroad, graduate-level programs that equipped women to teach, write and lead, as well as other advancements. The questions once asked—what can women learn?—have been replaced by where and with whom will we learn next? From cassette-recorded shiurim mailed to your house to livestreamed classes, accessibility has expanded alongside aspiration. The cumulative result is a community of women who view Torah study not as an option, but as an essential dimension of Jewish life. 

My personal passion for Torah study and teaching did not emerge in a vacuum; it was born from generations who revered Jewish learning. Jewish education was the heartbeat of my family—my grandparents and parents all studied formally, each generation carrying forward a deep reverence and respect for Torah learning. Both of my grandmothers were privileged to receive formal Torah education—one at Yeshivah of Flatbush in Brooklyn in the 1930s, the other at Telshe Yavne, a high school for girls in Lithuania—rare opportunities for women of their day. In my office hangs a letter my great-grandfather wrote to his children, asking them to promise they would study diligently, for he was making sacrifices to give them a Jewish education. That simple, handwritten note is my daily reminder that Torah learning has always required both devotion and vision. Those values continue to guide me—from my years as a classroom teacher to my work today with the OU Women’s Initiative.    

In recent years, I have witnessed firsthand how dramatically women’s Torah learning has accelerated. A defining moment came with the launch of the Torat Imecha Nach Yomi initiative in 2020. Nach Yomi, a daily study cycle covering all of Nevi’im and Ketuvim over two years, had long existed, though it was traditionally taught by men. Introducing women educators into this space created a historic milestone—perhaps the largest Navi classroom in Jewish history. The timing, aligned with the global Siyum HaShas celebrations, captured the momentum of a world newly inspired by daily learning. 

What has been most remarkable is not only the reach of Nach Yomi but the sense of community it built. Thousands of women now study the same text each day, joining local chaburot, WhatsApp groups and virtual gatherings. Torah has become a daily companion—woven into commutes, kitchens and conversations—turning individual study into a collective expression of faith and growth. Seeing women’s voices at the center of Torah teaching affirms both their capacity and their contribution, offering role models for the next generation who see that Torah scholarship belongs to them too. 

Looking ahead, I hope women’s Torah learning continues to flourish—anchored both in the accessibility of technology and the strength of in-person connection. The next step is to see learning centers in every community, places where women gather regularly to learn, discuss and grow together. When Torah is studied both online and around the table, the reach of technology joins with the warmth of community—each deepening the other. 

The seeds have already been planted. In the next forty years, I am confident they will blossom into a global chorus of women united through Torah—each voice adding its own note to the eternal song of Jewish learning. 

 

Rebbetzin Dr. Adina Shmidman is director of the OU Women’s Initiative. 

 

 

Orthodox Advocacy at Forty

By Nathan Diament 

 

In 1985, the dominant “voice” of American Jewry in Washington, DC’s halls of power was the troika of Jewish “defense” organizations—the Anti-Defamation League, American Jewish Congress and American Jewish Committee. These groups promoted a secular and liberal agenda focused on “separation of church and state” together with broad promotion of civil rights laws to protect religious, racial and gender minorities from discrimination. While some aspects of this agenda dovetailed with the interests of American Orthodox Jews, many others did not.  

The secular Jewish organizations vigorously opposed any legislation, regulations or court rulings that might allow government support for shuls, day schools and other religious institutions. Orthodox leaders viewed that as not only counter to our community’s interests, but also contrary to religious Jews having equal standing in law and society—alongside their secular counterparts.¹ 

Orthodox leaders responded and began to assert the unique voice of our community. In 1989, Agudath Israel of America established an office in Washington, DC. The Orthodox Union followed suit a decade later in 1999—opening the OU Advocacy Center. In the ensuing decades, Orthodox Jewish advocacy has scored many important accomplishments. 

First, the misperception of American Jewry and monolithically liberal has been broken. No leading policymaker, journalist or thought leader is unaware that there are differences between Orthodox and secular Jews on many key issues. 

 Second, Orthodox Jewish advocacy has yielded critical policy victories advancing the community’s values and interests. These include: 

• The creation of the Nonprofit Security Grant Program—providing millions of dollars to shuls and schools to support their security needs;

• The enactment of federal laws protecting religious liberty including the Religious Freedom Restoration Act and the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act;

• Regulatory and policy decisions by Cabinet agencies that include shuls and other houses of worship in government grants programs (i.e., for disaster relief, historic preservation, energy efficiency projects and more); 

• And most recently, the enactment of the Educational Choice for Children Act—the nation’s largest-ever federal “school choice” program that will provide tax credits for donations to scholarship organizations that can subsidize attendance at day schools and yeshivot.

These and countless other examples show that the decisions of our community’s leaders—nearly forty years ago—to establish our own voice in the public policy arena was wise and has paid off.  

Note 

1. See Michael A. Helfand, “Equal Funding as Equal Standing: The Orthodox Jewish Advocacy Project,” Sources, https://www.sourcesjournal.org/articles/equal-funding-as-equal-standing-the-orthodox-jewish-advocacy-project. 

 

Nathan Diament is executive director of the OU Advocacy Center. 

 

 

What Outreach Looks Like Now

By Rabbi Avraham Edelstein 

 

In the aftermath of the Six-Day War in 1967, there was an outpouring of teshuvah in Israeli society. Although it was a bit of a false start, we soon learned it wasn’t a one-time spiritual awakening. Fifty-eight years later, Jews are still returning. 

It’s simply fake news to say that outreach has slowed down. Yes, kiruv has gotten harder—because non-Orthodox Jews are now a generation further removed from Yiddishkeit, because the Israeli backpacker phenomenon has faded, and because of the collapse of the Conservative movement (whose decline eliminated a key source of “low-hanging fruit”—Jews already somewhat engaged). But we’ve mobilized vastly greater numbers of outreach professionals. I remember just four full-time campus rabbis in North America in the 1990s—today, Olami and Chabad support over 500. Additionally, the OU’s Jewish Learning Initiative on Campus (JLIC) program, while catering mostly to Orthodox students, serves as a support for all Jews on twenty-four American campuses.  

Machon Yaakov joined Machon Shlomo, both yeshivahs equipping students with the knowledge to reclaim their heritage—and both are full every year. Neve College for Women, dedicated to educating women returning to their roots, has just as many students per year as it did decades ago. (The difference is that back in the 80s and 90s, students stayed for one to two years; now they come for one to six months—mostly on the shorter end.) Today, there are six seminaries in Jerusalem for women exploring their heritage, not just one. 

New initiatives—like Israel trips, Olami Souled (free guided Jewish learning with a coach), JInternship (interns tackle résumé-building pursuits while tapping into their Jewish identity), and NCSY’s The Anne Samson Jerusalem Journey (TJJ), its premier Israel experience for public school and unaffiliated teens—inspire thousands of men and women each year who want to learn more about Judaism, and some go on to become frum. These ba’alei teshuvah have been joined by tens of thousands of converts around the world—people of the highest caliber. 

The first wave of ba’al teshuvah leaders were towering figures: Rabbis Nachman Bulman, Mendel Weinbach, Noach Weinberg, Nota Schiller, Yaakov Rosenberg and, yibadel l’chaim, Rabbi Dovid Refson. Some, like Rabbi Josh Freilich in England and Rabbi Meir Schuster, were one-man institutions. Others, such as Rabbi Emanuel Feldman in Atlanta, Rabbi Eliezer Ben David in Buenos Aires and Rabbi Mordechai Shakovitsky in Johannesburg, became great builders of yeshivot and communities. 

Decades ago, campus kiruv was virtually nonexistent. In the US, the small-town kollel emerged as a new model—a perfect segue for young kollel couples leaving Jerusalem or Lakewood into a more full-time kiruv (or other klei kodesh) role. It was an exciting time: every city wanted a kollel, and three to five new initiatives launched each year. The model demanded a lot of work, but it was, for the most part, straightforward. 

Nowadays, the kollelim and traditional outreach centers are still active, but they’re no longer driving the kiruv world. In part, that’s because most cities that could have a kollel already do. And in part, it’s because two giant movements—Olami and Chabad—now dominate the outreach scene, while NCSY continues to have a huge impact on the high school level. These two movements led the campus revolution, driven by the belief that this is the age when real change happens. Today, their focus has expanded to include the young professional demographic—now involving hundreds of outreach professionals in North America alone. As global organizations, they can roll out innovative programs; fund trips to Israel, Poland and beyond; set metrics and standards; and leverage resources to create broad-based alignment. 

Do I miss the old warm-and-fuzzy, “mom-and-pop” era of kiruv—when we all showed up at the AJOP convention, swapped notes, and gave it our best shot, accountable to no one but ourselves and our Maker? Do I miss the days when an Israel trip meant hiring a minibus and staying at the Heritage House? Sure. But I also recognize that those methods wouldn’t work in today’s world. I’m just as thrilled to be serving the Jewish people through the kiruv movement in its new form as I was in its old one. 

 

Rabbi Avraham Edelstein is the educational director of Neve College for Women in Jerusalem. He is a director of the Ner LeElef Institute and a senior advisor to Olami. 

 

 

Still the Same Spark: Reflections on Four Decades of NCSY

By Rabbi Micah Greenland 

 

I first encountered NCSY in the 1980s, as an elementary school kid in Rochester, New York. What drew me in were the Nerf football games at Monday night “Jr. NCSY meetings” in the basement of Congregation Beth Sholom. What kept me there was something far more enduring: the sense of community, connectedness and inspiration. Those same ingredients of warmth, fun, meaningful and inspiring experiences and relatable role models are still the heartbeat of NCSY today. They remain the most effective way to touch lives and inspire Jewish growth. 

What has changed most dramatically is where and how we find Jewish teens, and in turn, a marked increase in the number of teens with whom we are able to connect. In the 1980s, the entry point was often the synagogue. Today, teens are more likely to be reached in their schools, through online communities or in whatever sub-space aligns with their interests. For example, Jewish Student Union (JSU) clubs bring Jewish experiences directly into public schools, engaging teens who might not otherwise seek out Jewish programs. Summer programs reach teens across the spectrum of religious backgrounds and interests, often appealing to a niche or special interest. Some, like Next Step Israel Internships and Hatzalah Rescue, provide immersive skill-building and professional experiences alongside deep Jewish inspiration. Others, like GIVE and JOLT, focus on chesed, allowing teens to connect to communities throughout Israel through acts of kindness.  

Parents now play a much larger role as well, wanting to be involved in their teens’ journeys, which calls for a broader understanding of family dynamics and community support. Meeting teens where they are today requires flexibility, awareness and a holistic approach that considers both the teens and their wider world. 

The method of connecting has shifted, but the core remains the same. NCSY continues to invest in teens through relationships and inspiration. In doing so, we live out our mission: to inspire in every Jewish teen the desire to learn, grow and reach their individual potential as Jews and as members of the community. That combination has always been, and continues to be, the key to sparking enduring Jewish connection. 

 

Rabbi Micah Greenland is international director of NCSY. 

 

 

New Approaches to Jewish Education

By Dr. Rona Novick, as told to Sandy Eller 

 

It goes without saying that education has certainly changed over the past forty years. But it isn’t just that there are four more decades of happenings and events that need to be incorporated into our school curricula. Our entire approach to educating students has evolved, and while schools were once a place of rigid routines, boredom and even misery, at least for some children, today’s academic institutions have become places of growth where students can thrive.  

Decades ago, education was envisioned as the process of pouring knowledge into empty vessels—students. But that has changed, with teachers realizing that it is their job to give their young charges the tools they need to succeed in today’s world. Educators transitioned from frontal teaching—being “the sage on the stage”—to the more constructive “guide on the side” model, with independent problem solving and cooperative learning being just two of the many ways that teachers help students grow and build knowledge. 

Rote memorization is largely a relic of the past. Instead, educators explain and directly teach components of a particular skill, providing opportunities to practice that new technique. Teachers also help students apply previously acquired problem-solving skills to new challenges, while providing feedback that gives students opportunities to self-correct.  

It’s not just about “let me teach you how to learn while you’re here,” but rather “let me teach you so that you can live a Jewish life, and continue learning our sacred texts, history and ways so that you can incorporate them into your life.”

Jewish learning, in particular, has undergone a significant transformation. Our schools are invested in instilling in students an affinity to being lifelong learners. It’s not just about “let me teach you how to learn while you’re here” but rather “let me teach you so that you can live a Jewish life, and continue learning our sacred texts, history and ways so that you can incorporate them into your life.” One example of that model would be a Jewish studies class that was slated to teach the laws of kashrut. Rather than using worksheets or texts, the teacher had the class delve into the kashrut status of Starbucks’ fancy coffees, an assignment that involved students in researching kashrut, manufacturing and franchising processes. Even relatively young students can be engaged in project- and problem-based learning using resources such as books, videos and computers to collect information and analyze problems. 

My belief in the importance of watching children and learning from their observations is as true today as it was forty years ago. Taking the time to understand students’ struggles can provide a wellspring of information. A student who is consistently late handing in book reports might not be lazy, but may just be getting stuck on beginning the assignments, or may have trouble planning how to use their time. Gaining a thorough understanding of the student is critical and can help teachers generate useful prescriptions to help students overcome personal challenges. 

Even as teachers benefit from their wellspring of experience as they return to the classroom each year, it is critical that they reflect on what has worked in the past and understand that their approach to education must evolve. Old approaches aren’t always the best choice in a new world. 

 

Dr. Rona Novick is dean emerita of the Azrieli Graduate School of Jewish Education at Yeshiva University and co-educational director of Hidden Sparks. A clinical psychologist, she provides consultation to schools, children and families. 

Sandy Eller is a freelance writer who writes for print and web media outlets, as well as private clients. 

 

 

Classroom Convictions

By Rabbi Michoel Druin 

 

I began my career in education as a middle school teacher in the late 1980s. Back then, we were trained to use the “blackboard” (which was really green) with precision, and to brighten lessons with different colored chalk. 

Our classroom management training came from Lee Canter’s Assertive Discipline, a program built on the conviction that every child could be motivated to learn and behave. That was the mindset of the time; no exceptions. 

I walked into my first classroom convinced that I had the chance to make a lasting positive impact on my students’ lives. I was eager to try anything—any method, any approach—that might help me succeed. 

In those days, terms like ADD/ADHD, inclusion, differentiated instruction or neurodiverse learners were just beginning to surface in educational circles. They weren’t part of our training. The expectation was simple: if a student was in your class, you found a way to reach that child. 

Looking back now—and reconnecting with former students—I can see how many of those so-called “difficult students” that I had in my class went on to thrive in business, education, law and beyond. Some almost certainly had ADHD or were on the spectrum, though we didn’t have that language then. Somehow, we managed. They did the best they could as students, and I did the best I could as their teacher. 

Teaching in a Jewish day school brought with it an added layer of urgency and purpose. Each morning, we recited the Shema, which expresses our obligation to teach as educators and as parents. “Veshinantam levanecha,” refers to the teacher’s responsibility to “teach them thoroughly to your children,” and “velimadetem otam et bneichem,” alludes to the parents’ responsibility. The Shema makes no exceptions for difficulty, nor for ADHD. That spiritual imperative pushed us all—teachers, students and parents alike—to work harder. The Torah expects us to teach, no matter the challenge. That conviction gave us extra determination to see our students succeed. 

Today, educators are blessed with far more tools and insights. We can name challenges and address them more effectively. We can differentiate instruction methods. We can give students options for how to demonstrate mastery—through an essay, a poster or a video presentation. We can tailor goals and pace content to a child’s unique needs. And yes, when appropriate, we can use medication as one more tool of support. 

And yet, for all the progress, one thing hasn’t changed. Every teacher still begins the year, just as I did nearly forty years ago, with the conviction that we are blessed with an extraordinary gift: the opportunity to make a lasting, positive impact on our students’ lives. 

 

Rabbi Michoel Druin is head of school at Yachad’s IVDU schools. 

 

 

Resilience, Humility and Innovation: The Jewish DNA of Entrepreneurship

By Dr. Noam Wasserman 

 

Ever since Avraham Avinu set out on a journey that reshaped human history, Jews have embodied an entrepreneurial spirit. From Levi Strauss, who democratized clothing with the invention of blue jeans, to Henrietta Szold, whose Hadassah helped lay the foundation of Israel’s public health system, Jewish entrepreneurs have consistently reshaped industries, societies and communities. Rabbi Meir Shapiro’s founding of the Daf Yomi program, which recently marked its 100th anniversary, was itself an entrepreneurial act in Torah learning, scaling daily study into a global movement. 

 Forty years ago, Jewish entrepreneurship was most visible in finance, real estate and consumer brands. Entrepreneurs built fortunes, then often channeled them into philanthropy that strengthened day schools, synagogues and communal organizations. At the time, entrepreneurship was largely understood as business success followed by charitable giving. Today, the picture looks very different. Jewish founders are not only creating wealth but are building platforms and ecosystems that transform daily life. Sergey Brin co-founded Google; Mark Zuckerberg co-founded Facebook; Judith Faulkner built Epic, which manages most of America’s electronic health records; and Sefaria has redefined access to Torah texts by marrying Jewish learning with open-source technology. 

 Israel epitomizes this transformation. In 1985, its economy was aid-dependent, inflation-ridden and dominated by agriculture and state-run industries. The word entrepreneur usually referred to the owner of a small business. Four decades later, Israel ranks no. 3 in the world for start-up ecosystems, is home to thousands of active start-ups, and invests over 6 percent of its GDP in R&D—one of the highest rates globally. Governments now send delegations not with aid packages but to learn how to build entrepreneurial ecosystems of their own. 

 What explains this disproportionate success? Beyond capital and technology, the answer lies in values. The same middot Jews have cultivated for millennia—resilience, humility and sensitivity in bein adam lachaveiro—are precisely the traits demanded by entrepreneurship. My research at Harvard Business School was built on the insight that 65 percent of start-up success stems not from the product or business model but from how founders navigate “people problems.” Jewish thought has long emphasized that success in life hinges on relationships and integrity—the lifeblood of bein adam lachaveiro. 

 This spirit has infused not only businesses but also synagogues, schools and service organizations. From Avraham Avinu’s first steps into the unknown to Orthodox Jews now shaping global innovation, our people have always understood that the greatest journeys begin with vision, courage and faith. The next forty years may see an even deeper integration of Torah values with entrepreneurial daring—ensuring that our creativity not only changes the world, but elevates it as well. 

 

Dr. Noam Wasserman is head of school of The Ramaz School (“Yeshivat Ramaz”), is dean emeritus of the Sy Syms School of Business at Yeshiva University, and was a professor of entrepreneurship at Harvard Business School for thirteen years. 

 

 

Becoming Smart with Money

By Eli Langer 

 

Something interesting happened in 1981, five years before I was born. 

The federal government, for the first time, allowed most workers in the United States to open an individual retirement account. Up until then, most people who wanted to save for retirement—if they did at all—would resort to stuffing their mattresses or letting cash sit in a bank account with little to no growth. 

Fast forward four decades, and IRAs and 401(k)s are embedded in Jewish life almost as naturally as Thursday-night cholent. What was once unfamiliar is now second nature. 

That shift toward financial literacy and forward thinking may be one of the most significant changes in Orthodox Jewish life over the past generation. 

From people putting money into a 401(k) to earn a match from an employer to young couples speaking with a financial advisor (for free, courtesy of LivingSmarterJewish.org) on how to save for their children’s weddings, being smart with money is becoming mainstream in the frum world. And with the advent of on-screen tutorials, apps and automation, it’s easier than ever to get started. 

Those who do get a head start are better off for it. As Kosher Money podcast guest Tamar Snyder Chaitovsky explained, assuming a modest 7.8 percent annual growth rate, “When your child is born, if you invest $7,500 and never invest another penny, then by the time that child is sixty-five, the total amount of your initial investment will be over a million dollars.” 

Forty years ago, few in our community thought seriously about retirement planning. Today, conversations about 401(k) matches, Roth IRAs and long-term investing are common at the office and in WhatsApp chats.  

That shift toward financial literacy and forward thinking may be one of the most significant changes in Orthodox Jewish life over the past generation. 

 

Eli Langer is the host of Living Lchaim’s Kosher Money podcast and the CEO of Harvesting Media, a digital marketing agency. 

 

 

From Authority to Authenticity: The Rabbi’s Changing Role

By Rabbi Menachem Penner 

 

Not so long ago, the synagogue rabbi was less a person than a presence: an Authority (capital A), a figure approached with awe, petitioned with trembling questions of halachah or family or faith, and always seen from a careful, almost ceremonial distance. The weight of the office came from that distance, from the fact that the rabbi was a man you didn’t imagine catching in line at the bagel shop or replying to your WhatsApp message at midnight. And yet, that model has collapsed under the conditions of our time, replaced by something more challenging and more human: a demand for rabbis not just to teach Torah but to embody it in the minutiae of their personal lives; not to perform roles but to live lives authentically, in full view, sharing messy or vulnerable life moments as well. 

A rabbi’s influence today is no longer measured solely by eloquence from the pulpit, but by his presence in the shul lobby, at hospital bedsides, through late-night WhatsApp exchanges or across bagel shop tables. So the very notion of a “pulpit rabbi” misses the mark. Pulpits are furniture that separate the rabbi from his community. The modern rabbinate demands stepping out from behind it, literally and figuratively. 

Rabbis aren’t expected to solve every problem or answer every question, but to listen, care and guide with genuine honesty. 

Technology has amplified this shift exponentially. In the 1980s, rabbinic reach was confined to those in the pews. Today, messages stream online, divrei Torah circulate on social media and congregants expect instant access. This connectivity has blurred boundaries and intensified pressure, while pushing rabbis toward constant authentic engagement with their communities. 

Just listen to the questions that land on a rabbi’s desk—or inbox or late-night phone line—these days: less about ritual minutiae, more about loneliness, mental health, doubts that cut to the bone of belief itself. Rabbis aren’t expected to solve every problem or answer every question, but to listen, care and guide with genuine honesty. The expectation isn’t perfection but authenticity: “Can I trust that my rabbi truly sees, hears and walks with me?” 

Rabbinic education has adapted accordingly. The Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) at Yeshiva University now trains future rabbis not only in study and teaching, but also in counseling, communication and meaningful connection. Students may take emotional-intelligence assessments alongside their bechinot in Yoreh Deah. 

The role has grown heavier. Today’s rabbis shoulder enormous expectations with fewer protective barriers. Yet the results have been transformative. When authority pairs with authenticity, Torah leadership becomes deeply personal. 

The Rabbinical Council of America has evolved to meet this reality, pivoting toward mentoring and supporting rabbis to sustain relational leadership. Policymaking is now complemented by affinity groups and mental-health resources where rabbis candidly share the challenges of this demanding new model. 

Perhaps the most profound change in the rabbinate over four decades is that rabbinic power no longer rests primarily in eloquent words delivered from behind the pulpit, but in the authenticity demonstrated when stepping out from behind it: meeting people where they are, as they are. 

 

Rabbi Menachem Penner is executive director of the Rabbinical Council of America. 

 

 

Orthodox Literature

By Ruchama Feuerman 

 

How has Jewish literature changed or evolved over the past forty years? 

The first thing that comes to mind is adjectives. Back in the day, frum writers piled them on, mostly because we didn’t know any better, and because every time we stuck a four-syllable adjective in our essays—apoplectic, scintillating, effervescent, lachrymose, mendicant,  gargantuan, you name it—our English teachers cheered, thrilled that we’d used an adjective. No wonder we all overdosed on those noun accessories. Today’s writing is leaner and less cluttered, for which I’m thankful. (Part of that is due to our decreasing attention span.) 

Second observation: We’re no longer the People of the Book, but the People of the Magazine. I fear people aren’t buying books anymore because magazines satisfy the reading urge. It’s happening everywhere—in both religious and mainstream populations—and our society is suffering for it. In my online engagement with Israel bashers on left-wing platforms, I’ll ask: What books have you read on the topic? They go silent, then defensive. And I’ll respond: So you’re fine with condemning over half the world’s Jews on the basis of a few articles you may have read? It’s scary, but that same shallow bookless thinking is coming our way, too. At least, thank G-d, we have Shabbat, which compels us to get off our devices and perchance to open a book. 

Where is the writing surge in the Modern Orthodox or Centrist communities? . . . So, what’s a Centrist teen—or adult—supposed to read? 

Which brings me to my third observation: Call it the right-wing, black-hat or Yeshivish world, but the right-wing community takes the reading needs of its population seriously. Witness the plethora of novels, short stories, books for kids getting published every year that are Yeshivish-oriented. Some frum novels—frovels—make for unbearably treacly reading, but you know what? With so many people devoted to writing, frum literature can’t help but eventually rise in quality.  

And I wonder: Where is the writing surge in the Modern Orthodox or Centrist communities?  Yeshivish literature generally doesn’t appeal to those in the Modern Orthodox camp. So, what’s a Centrist teen—or adult—supposed to read? Obviously, Jewish literature doesn’t have to reinforce one’s involvement in a Torah life, but at least it shouldn’t alienate you from it. Many fine novels written by the formerly religious leave a bitter taste. It would be worthwhile to compile a list of novels, short stories and memoirs that do deepen and reflect one’s experience of a Modern Orthodox life. To name a few: Yael Unterman’s short story collection, The Hidden of Things, and Sarah Lavane’s memoir, Unmatched. And as a teen, I remember devouring Milton Steinberg’s As a Driven Leaf countless times. I treasured that book. 

 

Ruchama Feuerman, author of the novels Seven Blessings (St. Martin’s Press, 2004) and In the Courtyard of the Kabbalist (New York Review Books, 2014), is a book developmental editor and lives in New Jersey with her family. 

 

 

What’s on the Shelf?

By Ann Diament Koffsky 

 

As a fourth grader, I loved Nancy Drew books. They had almost everything: action, mystery and a detective who was a girl—just like me! But something was missing.  

Then one day, my day school librarian handed me The Whispering Mezuzah by Carol Korb Hubner (Judaica Press,1979). Like the Nancy Drew series, Hubner’s book was about a girl detective. But this time she was also frum—just like me! I eagerly gobbled it up. But when I asked for more, the librarian didn’t have anything to share. I had to return to Nancy. 

Today, there are still frum children searching for their next read. But unlike me, they’ll easily be able to find what they’re looking for.  

Color printing used to be cost-prohibitive. Today, it costs almost the same as black-and-white. That makes it easier for frum publishers to create children’s content, which often features beautifully colored illustrations. There are also more customers now, as the number of Orthodox families continues to grow and they seek out children’s books that reflect their values.  

And not just books—graphic novels and comics, too. Such formats are particularly effective for engaging reluctant readers and visual learners. Notable examples include the Taryag Kids series (ArtScroll) and the Shikufitzky Street series (Feldheim). Koren has produced magnificent graphic novel versions of the Haggadah and the Purim Megillah.  

As any educator will tell you, stories matter. . . . They impart values in ways that a classroom cannot. 

Interestingly, while Orthodox characters used to be hard to find in mainstream publishers’ catalogs, some have recently chosen to publish books with Shabbat-observant characters; it’s part of the larger cultural trend of featuring multicultural stories. In Aviva vs. the Dybbuk, by Mari Lowe (New Jersey: Levine Querido, 2022), Aviva’s mom is the mikveh lady; in Richard Ho’s Two New Years (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2023), the Asian Jewish family is shown davening in a shul with a mechitzah; and in my own book Ping-Pong Shabbat (New York: Little Bee Books, 2024), Estee Ackerman, an Orthodox girl, wears a skirt while she wins tournaments. 

It’s impossible to have a conversation about recent Jewish children’s literature without mentioning the impact of PJ Library. Started in 2005, PJ Library mails free Jewish children’s books (both Orthodox and non-Orthodox) to families. About 20,000 of the households they serve self-identify as Orthodox and some of the books PJ has shared include titles from frum publishers like Menucha, HaChai, Judaica Press and Shazak Productions. When PJ Library selects a title, authors and publishers are delighted—it means their book will be widely distributed and, most importantly, read by Jewish children across the globe. 

All of this is excellent news because, as any educator will tell you, stories matter. They are a key ingredient in a child’s chinuch. They impart values in ways that a classroom cannot.  

Yes, out there right now, frum children are searching for their next great read. But unlike me, they’ll be able to choose from piles of books that celebrate their own experiences, share their values and tell a great story, too. Happy reading! 

  

Ann Diament Koffsky is the author, and sometimes illustrator, of more than fifty Jewish books for kids, including Ping-Pong Shabbat (Little Bee Books, 2024), the Kayla and Kugel series (Apples and Honey Press, 2015) and Fairy Godbubbie’s Shabbat (Intergalactic Afikoman, 2025). She also creates free Jewish coloring pages, which you can sign up to receive at www.annkoffsky.com. 

 

 

Changes in the World of Therapy

By Roz Sherman, PhD 

 

There is a Yiddish phrase that, roughly translated, says, “As the Christian world goes, the Jewish world follows.” Over time—usually decades—ideas, attitudes and cultural mores of the secular world are subtly absorbed into the Jewish world. Think about our daily activities—our music, our workouts, our vacations, our clothing, our cellphones and so on. Though we may resist at first, eventually we catch up to the non-Jewish world. It is nearly impossible to keep our Jewish attitudes and practice pristine and fixed, no matter how hard we try.  

One heartening change in attitude over the past several decades, however, is the (relative) acceptance and destigmatization of psychological disorders. In the past, observant Jews were skeptical or even suspicious of therapy. Who knows what treif Freudian ideas might poison our minds? What non-religious—or worse, non-Jewish—therapist might take us off the derech? Therapy was often viewed not as an avenue of personal growth, but as an indication of mental illness, and worse, a possible threat to finding a shidduch. Psychological problems, unacknowledged and hidden, often remained untreated, to the detriment of the community.  

Over time, things began to shift. Orthodox counselors trained in therapeutic services reduced the fear of “alien” therapy. Rabbis and community leaders began to speak about the importance of treating mental health issues. Organizations such as Nefesh International, a group of Orthodox mental health professionals, formed. As public discourse increased, the stigma began to fade. People became less afraid to admit that they have emotional problems and were more open about getting treated. Exposure to the internet and social media made it more difficult to maintain a relatively sheltered lifestyle. Additionally, rates of substance abuse increased, necessitating treatment. Today, Orthodox referral organizations provide referrals to the best psychiatrists, psychologists and social workers, for a wide range of mental health issues.  

These days, psychological lingo is everywhere. People describe their meticulousness as “my OCD” and their contradictory emotions as “schizophrenic.” Moody people are now “bipolar.” Anxiety is viewed as almost the norm, and medication for anxiety and depression is widespread. “My therapist told me that I need to work on my anger issues; she thinks they stem from my inability to confront my father who was always yelling.” This statement sounds like a “share” in a group therapy session, where everyone’s contributions are completely confidential. Yet, this was actually a comment made by a young Orthodox woman at a Shabbat table where four professional Orthodox women in their twenties, who had only met the other seven guests at the table a half hour before, openly discussed their psychotherapy sessions. No one would have dreamed of speaking this way thirty years ago at the Shabbat table. 

Perhaps the best example of the positive change in attitude toward mental health and therapy is the recognition that rabbis, often first responders in personal and communal crises, have lacked the psychological experience to manage these challenges. Think about it—a young rabbi, maybe twenty-five, needs to comfort a congregant who has just received the news that her husband had a heart attack at work and died. There are so many psychological challenges in just this scenario. How does one speak to and what does one say to the grieving wife? How does one handle one’s own horror and anxiety about this traumatic event and remain centered and calm so he can help? Today, students in rabbinical seminaries, such as Yeshiva University’s Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) and others across the Orthodox spectrum, are enrolled in special programs that help them deal with these very scenarios. I am happy to teach in a joint program between the Ferkauf Graduate School of Psychology and RIETS, in which semichah students take master’s level courses in psychological theories, psychopathology, grief and crisis counseling, and counseling skills. The purpose is to hone their psychological sophistication, expose them to potential issues before they happen, and teach them what kind of issues require referral to professionals. 

As part of the training, we role play challenges that young rabbis might confront. The idea is to let students experience stressful situations and learn to manage their own emotions and responses. In the example above, two students, one who was a few months into our program (the “rabbi”), and another who had just joined the class that day (“the assistant rabbi”), role played the scenario in which they came to comfort the wife and deal with the halachic practices. There are no easy answers to what a rabbi should do when faced with this kind of horror and grief. However, what the students learn and practice is to remain calm, be fully present despite their own anxiety, realize that they may not be able to solve all the problems but can still help, and above all, listen carefully to what the person needs. What the “rabbi” did was to sit with the wife, take the cue from her, speak carefully and softly, and begin the practical process. What the “assistant rabbi” did was talk nervously, give directions and appear as overwhelmed as he felt.  

Just a few courses make a huge difference in how these young rabbis view themselves and their responsibilities to their congregants. Many rabbis who were ordained decades ago lament the paucity of training and support in the psychological skills they needed. They often learned by trial and error—maybe more error than trial—how to listen, validate and empathize, and how to understand themselves better.  

It is true that we cannot stop attitudes from the world around us from seeping into our Jewish consciousness. But sometimes that is not a bad thing. 

 

Roz Sherman, PhD, chair of the Jewish Action Editorial Committee, is a clinical psychologist in private practice in New York City and a professor in the Ferkauf Graduate School/RIETS Mental Health certificate program. 

 

 

The World of Shidduchim

By Lisa Elefant, as told to Sandy Eller 

 

A lot has changed in the world of shidduchim since I made my first successful match. I can only speak about what I have seen in the segment of the Yeshivish community I inhabit, but I know other communities have experienced significant changes as well. 

I made my first shidduch twenty years ago, and at the time, I was running a medical office in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn. But once that shidduch was finalized, people decided I was a shadchan. My phone started ringing—and it hasn’t stopped since. 

 In my early days as a shadchan, I kept two notebooks—one for men and one for women. The pool of singles was smaller back then, and setting up men and women felt a lot easier than it does now. Before long, people began using résumés to summarize basic information about singles, and they quickly became a central part of the shidduch system. Over time, a familiar pattern took hold— résumés are sent to the boys’ side first, and their mothers spend hours researching the many names they receive, while the girls’ mothers . . . sit by the phone waiting. And waiting.  

While the existing shidduch system typically worked well for younger people and the more Yeshivish crowd, it became clear that, as the world of shidduchim evolved with the times, certain adjustments were necessary. Résumés, which had once been so helpful, were being analyzed to death, with some questioning what town the grandparents came from in Europe. Mothers who wouldn’t allow magazines with photographs of women into their homes insisted on getting pictures with every résumé. Shadchanim were getting so many calls they couldn’t keep up with the demand. First dates became much less frequent, with boys repeatedly being turned down by girls who insisted they only wanted “long-term learners.” The number of available singles skyrocketed—even amazing men and women, doing all the right things, were struggling to find their soulmates.  

Addressing those issues head on, shadchanim began launching new initiatives to help singles find their way to the chuppah. Structured speed dating—tailored to specific age ranges and backgrounds—has been growing in popularity, even though it would have been considered unacceptable ten years ago. “Wedding-redting,” where shadchanim meet with singles during downtimes at weddings, has also proven productive. And Rabbi Chaim Zvi Senter, rosh yeshivah of Yeshivas Aderes Hatorah in Jerusalem, came up with a revolutionary concept called Tachlis Tours. He and I joined forces to take a group of forty young men and women with similar profiles on a five-day trip to Morocco this past August. The itinerary combined touring, davening at kevarim, speed dating and other activities. The trip resulted in numerous dates and people are asking when the next one will be.  

It isn’t lost on any of us that more change is needed—whether it’s creating incentives to attract more shadchanim, or single men and women managing expectations better. In the meantime, we’ll continue doing what we’ve always done: keeping our finger on the pulse of the shidduch world and tweaking the system as we go—so we can keep bringing couples together and building new Jewish homes. 

 

Lisa Elefant is the executive director and one of the founders of AdoptAShadchan, a premiere shidduch organization that facilitates hundreds of shidduchim a year.  

Sandy Eller is a freelance writer who writes for print and web media outlets, as well as private clients. 

 

 

Aliyah Today Is About Choice, Not Sacrifice

By Rabbi Yehoshua Fass, as told to Tova Cohen 

 

Over the last forty years, aliyah has been shaped by historic turning points. The mass exodus of Soviet Jewry at the end of the Cold War was extraordinary, not only in numbers but also in the challenges and opportunities of integration it presented. Similarly, the dramatic airlifts of Ethiopian Jewry—Operation Moses in 1984 and Operation Solomon in 1991—were not only humanitarian missions, but powerful expressions of Jewish unity. 

Israel itself has been a central factor. In the 1970s and 1980s, aliyah was often seen as a sacrifice, financially and professionally, since Israel was still developing. By the 1990s and 2000s, Israel had become a hub of innovation, a vibrant democracy with a robust economy. This reframed aliyah from one of rescue to one of choice—from “what you give up” to “what you gain.” 

Demographically, aliyah also diversified. No longer mainly from countries of distress, it increasingly came from Western democracies where Jews were choosing aliyah proactively. The profile of olim reflects this shift. 

In the 1980s, aliyah was about survival: Jews fled the Soviet Union for religious freedom, Ethiopian Jews walked for days for dignity and reunion. Today, we see medical professionals who want to support Israel’s healthcare sector, entrepreneurs drawn to the start-up nation, and a variety of professionals who want to contribute to something bigger than themselves. We see young families who want to raise children in a Jewish environment, retirees eager to spend their golden years in Israel, and students inspired by ideology who view aliyah as the ultimate act of Jewish self-determination. 

Some assume rising antisemitism is the main driver of aliyah today. But that’s not the driving force in North America. Fewer than six percent of North American olim cite antisemitism as a motive. Still, headlines about rising incidents inevitably shape long-term thinking: “Where will my children feel safe and proud as Jews?” For some, that climate tips the scale from dream to decision. 

The challenges that Anglo olim face today differ from those of forty years ago. Then, it was financial hardship and cultural isolation. Phone calls abroad were expensive, letters took weeks and jobs were scarce. Today, while housing costs can be an obstacle and Hebrew proficiency is a challenge, aliyah in many ways is easier. Technology keeps families connected, Anglo communities offer support and government and nonprofit infrastructure help smooth the landing. Most importantly, Israel now embraces aliyah as central to its identity. 

When we founded Nefesh B’Nefesh, our aim was to dismantle obstacles—bureaucracy, employment, financial burden and fear of isolation—that deterred thousands. The success stories today are endless.  

This work is truly avodat kodesh. 

 

Rabbi Yehoshua Fass is co-founder and executive director of Nefesh B’Nefesh. 

Tova Cohen is a fundraising communications professional and college essay coach. 

 

 

Israel—Start-Up Nation

By Hillel Fuld 

 

Everyone knows that history repeats itself. But how many people know that the Torah repeats lessons as well? Throughout the 210 years of slavery in Egypt, the Torah describes something extremely counterintuitive: the more the Egyptians persecuted the Israelites, the more the Israelites flourished. Strange for outsiders, but for the Jews, that’s our story. Israel, a country smaller than New Jersey, in one of the world’s most hostile neighborhoods, leads globally in technology and innovation. Everyone knows the book Start-up Nation, by Dan Senor and Saul Singer, but what most people don’t know is that Israel is no longer just a start-up nation. Israel has matured. Israeli entrepreneurs are no longer focused on building ventures they later sell to bigger firms. Now, they are building the large companies that acquire start-ups. Israeli entrepreneurs are creating world-leading, multibillion-dollar sustainable businesses across every tech sector: transportation, artificial intelligence, drones, defense, health tech, biotech and more. 

The more our enemies persecute us, the more darkness they bring, the more we innovate and the brighter we shine. Despite the hardships of the past two years, Israel continues to grow, break records and show the world what the Jewish people are made of. Every leading tech corporation has a presence in Israel. Look at the world’s most valuable companies: almost all are investing billions in Israel, including Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, Facebook, NVIDIA, Intel, IBM and more. Not only are they here, but they are building major parts of their portfolios in this tiny country, alongside top tech investors. 

Then there is the resilience of Israeli entrepreneurs, which is nothing short of remarkable. Take the Gaza war: half the country was in reserve duty for the past two years. You might expect a slowdown in economic growth, but nothing could be further from the truth. Even during the war, Israel broke records in financing and M&A (mergers and acquisitions). In the last few months alone, we saw multiple multibillion-dollar acquisitions, including Google acquiring Wiz, an Israeli company, for over $30 billion—Google’s largest acquisition to date, and Israel’s largest exit ever. 

While that is impressive, the most striking achievement is the global impact of Israeli technology. Look at cancer research: I interviewed one of the leading authorities, a man managing more cancer research funding than anyone else in the world. As he described breakthroughs, nearly all leading treatments and cures were developed in the Jewish State. As Israel’s tech ecosystem continues to grow, the world watches with awe, wondering if this pace can continue. Then the next quarter comes, and Israel breaks records again. 

That is our story. The more they persecute us, the more we flourish. It is that resilience, that mindset, that strength—qualities that will ultimately lead us to prevail over all our enemies. With Hashem’s help, Am Yisrael Chai will remain a historical reality. We will thrive long after our enemies are gone. 

 

Hillel Fuld is a tech columnist, start-up advisor and Israel enthusiast. 

 

 

In This Section 

Celebrating Our Fortieth Anniversary 

Jewish Action Through the Years 

Forty Years of Change