As a rabbinical student, going to synagogue rarely produces feelings of anxiety or fear. With time, even giving the dvar torah or facilitating parts of the service become habitual. While living on the Upper West Side of Manhattan for years, I also became spoiled by the dozens of synagogues that met both my religious and cultural demands. The options were so vast that I could customize my own shul schedule every Shabbat. This synagogue with its rocking Friday night davening and the other synagogue Shabbat morning with its hot kiddush.
This all changed a couple of weeks ago when my wife and I moved to Williamsburg, the epicenter of Hipsters and Hasidim. A quick “Google search” revealed that our synagogue going would be rather different in the new neighborhood. Williamsburg certainly has no shortage of synagogues. In parts, it even resembles Jerusalem’s ultra-Orthodox Mea Shearim neighborhood with a shul on every street corner. The only challenge…I’m not Hasidic nor do I own a shtreimal or bekishe. Although my hair is long enough to make payot , I would still look more like a Beatle than a Hasid. There was no way to disguise myself. How would I ever fit in?
I woke up Shabbat morning and for the first time since my Bar Mitzvah I was terrified about going to shul! I was scared that they would judge me and challenge my Jewishness. I was certain I would be made uncomfortable. After all, it seemed like every week I had read another horror story regarding their community and their insularity. Why would they make an exception for me?
My wife finally convinced me to give it a try, so I found my white shirt and black pants and headed out. I had no real plan, I did not know anyone or know of a specific shul. I figured I would walk into south Williamsburg and see what happens. After only a couple of minutes I ran into a Hasid. He seemed like he was in a hurry to get to davening, but at the time he seemed like my best chance of actually finding somewhere to go.... Read More: Times of Israel Blog
