Tales of the Havurah by David Kronfeld, Book Baby, ISBN 9781098-302412; 419 pages with afterword and glossary, available on Amazon or via BookBaby
SAN DIEGO — Take yourself back to the 1960s and 1970s when Jewish hippies envisioned creating their own brand of Judaism. Kosher food mixed with marijuana. Come as you are davening with cushions in a circle, instead of chairs facing a bima. Potluck dinners, in both meanings of the word. Some traditional prayers in, others out. Fully egalitarian services long before more established movements recognized women as spiritual leaders. Men and a woman even going to an outdoor mikvah together (Okay, it was skinny-dipping mixed with traditional mikvah prayers.)
Author David Kronfeld says his account is a fictionalized version of the co-educational havurah with which he worshiped and lived in a rambling old house that easily accommodated 20 persons and occasionally was filled to bursting during special holidays such as Purim and Yom Kippur. His book is filled with stories about the relationships between members of the outside world (including parents), and relationships among the members, including sexual dalliances, theological disagreements, mutual support, and lots of teasing.
As Jewish hippies living together, they didn’t have to explain their hippiedom to other Jews, nor their Judaism to other hippies. They were a mostly self-contained breed of their own, making up and breaking rules as they saw fit, but nevertheless hewing to a more observant form of Judaism than what is found today in many mainstream temples and synagogues.
Kronfeld is a marvelous writer, capable of bringing you into the moment. He tells of the difficulty and embarrassment members of the Havurah experienced when a homeless woman, who clearly was mentally ill, kept demanding admittance and eating prodigious amounts of food that others had paid for. He explains how difficult it was for them to finally turn away a fellow Jew, after she repeatedly refused their offers to find her professional help.
He also writes about members of the Havurah attending services at a nearby synagogue in a Boston suburb where the membership had been so diminished that only a few elderly Jews remained, worrying if they could somehow keep their doors open. It was clear that these elderly Jews wanted the young members of the Havurah — who by and large were graduate students at various Boston-area universities — to merge with their congregation, but the silent appeal went unheeded. It was hard enough for the Havurah to keep itself together, much less to take on the responsibilities of a formal synagogue building.
Nearly every chapter in this book revealed a deep knowledge of Jewish religion and tradition, mixed with an impatience for traditional religious formats. The Havurah was a glorious experiment, but like the old synagogue, the Havurah had difficulty replenishing its membership. Eventually, it faded away, except in the memories of its alumni — no, my mistake, per the letter below from Debra Cash, it didn’t fade away; it transformed.
I highly recommend reading this book for anyone who yearns for new ways to express their spirituality. One big difference between then and now: Smoking pot, or weed as it is more popularly called, is legal, at least in some states including right here in Califfffornia.
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Donald H. Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World. He may be contacted via donald.harrison@sdjewishworld.com
Dear Mr. Harrison,
I was delighted that you reviewed my haver David Kronfeld’s Tales of the Havurah, https://www.sdjewishworld.com/2020/08/02/when-hippies-invented-their-own-judaism/ and especially that you understood that both the author and the community he describes represent learning, commitment, and a conviction that Jewish life could be serious and joyful at the same time.
However, I do need to take exception with your statement “Eventually, it faded away, except in the memories of its alumni.”
Havurat Shalom, the “ur” Havurah that is the source of Kronfeld’s fictionalized tales, is still going strong. While it may have been founded in the ‘60s as a seminary and intentional community, it continues today as an egalitarian, lay-led community for prayer, study and social action that continues to stake out “the edge” of many Jewish concerns around issues of inclusive theological language, disability accessibility, binary gender identity and more. I am ccing Aliza Arzt, who has been a member of Havurat Shalom for 40(!) years and who, if you have questions, can answer most of them. You may also be able to get the video of a recent Zoom associated with the Faith in the City exhibit.
Beyond this, members of the Havurah – both the one on which David Kronfeld based his book, and the havurot and independent minyanim that were inspired by its model in places like Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Chicago and San Francisco – themselves became major leaders in the Jewish world as rabbis, academics, and community leaders. The focus on being lay-led continues, but many havurahniks have become Jewish professionals and/or have contributed to the greater Jewish world in visible ways. As Aliza recently explained, there may be rabbis sitting in the davening room (still on the floor, although chairs are provided for anyone who wants them) but they are not the havurah’s rabbi(s). And many of the DIY practice(s) of the early Havurah community and their instantiation in The Jewish Catalog live on in the National Havurah Institute (which just completed holding its annual summer workshop by zoom https://havurah.org/institute2020/) and arguably have informed every liberal denomination in America and inclusive Jewish study initiatives such as Hadar.
Those early years were special – even revolutionary – times, and of course the intensity of the friendships made in youth cannot be replicated. (Many people from those days have remained close, even after scattering to other cities. Havurat Shalom itself has held magical reunions where we eat, laugh, study and continue to learn from each other.)
Cannabis may have been “a taste of the world to come” for some, but the principal remained in this world, in the coherent Jewish lives we have been able to imagine and sustain.
Best wishes,
Debra Cash
Alumna, Havurat Shalom
Dear Deb,
It is true that Havurat Shalom is still going, and still resides in its wonderful yellow house. But first of all, Havurat Chaim Community, a fictional havurah, did indeed fade away. And that reflects the fact that although Havurat Shalom as an institution is still alive, the havurah that you and I belonged to — made up of specific individuals who created a cohesive and exciting communal whole — is indeed now scattered all over the world, and the only place that havurah still exists is in my heart and memory. Some of its members are still in touch, and some have gone on to important roles in the Jewish world. But that special moment in time that we participated in and created has indeed passed, alas. The current Havurah is no longer my havurah, as much as I wish it well and long life. I think you would agree with that.
All the best — and, as you know, with great fondness,
David