The Orthodox Union has called on its member congregations to eliminate from
their synagogues the informal drinking circles known as Kiddush Clubs.
In letters addressed to member rabbis, the O.U., which represents some 1,000
congregations, has encouraged synagogues to devote the Sabbath of February 5
to launching a Kiddush Club crackdown.
The move comes as part of a broader push that the O.U. has dubbed "Safe
Homes, Safe Shuls, Safe Schools," an effort to address the problem of
teenage substance abuse in the Orthodox community. The issue was brought to
the fore in November when police raided a beer-soaked house party hosted by
an 18-year-old New Jersey yeshiva student, where 42 people, most of whom
were students at Jewish day schools some as young as 14 were
arrested.
Kiddush Clubs are small self-selected groups, usually of younger to
middle-aged men, who will slip out of Saturday morning services, often
during the Haftorah reading from the Prophets or during the rabbi's sermon,
to sip single-malt Scotch sometimes accompanied by some food and socialize.
The problem with the clubs is twofold, O.U. leaders said in a meeting with
the Forward. They desecrate Saturday morning prayers and set a bad example
for the community's youth.
"Kiddush is a way to sanctify the day," said Rabbi Moshe Krupka, the O.U.'s
executive director of programming. "You're not sanctifying the Sabbath by
walking into the cloak room with a hip flask of single-malt Scotch."
The decision to eliminate the Kiddush Clubs was an outgrowth of a meeting of
rabbis and educators convened by the O.U. on December 21 to discuss
questions of substance abuse, gambling, smoking and promiscuity among
Orthodox teens. Two days later, in a conference call of O.U. board members,
the move was approved by a 9-1 margin.
O.U. leaders stressed that the Kiddush Club initiative is not a silver
bullet for the Orthodox world's woes, but rather a dramatic first step.
"We don't want for people to think that this resolution is the answer to
what happened in Livingston," Krupka said. "It is, rather, part of an
unfolding educational process."
News of the O.U. resolution already has begun to prompt reactions from the
Orthodox community.
There is room within the framework of the Jewish tradition for responsible
alcohol consumption, argued Rabbi Allen Schwartz of Congregation Ohab Zedek
on Manhattan's Upper West Side, but Kiddush Clubs have tested those
boundaries.
"Once people start bringing cholent and having four or five shots, it's just
not responsible," Rabbi Schwartz said.
Though Rabbi Schwartz applauds the O.U.'s effort, he remains skeptical about
their recommendation's prospects.
"If people are looking for a Kiddush Club, they'll find one," he said.
Instead of banning the clubs, Rabbi Schwartz pointed toward other means of
lessening their appeal, such as encouraging broader congregational
involvement in the services, especially the reading of the Haftorah, and
preventing prayers from dragging on too long.
Defenders of the institution have argued that Kiddush Clubs have come to
occupy a unique — and irreplaceable — refuge on the fringes of
Orthodox life.
"There are people who didn't grow up Orthodox for whom the Kiddush Club
offers a means of entering into the life of the synagogue," one follower of
the Kiddush Club phenomenon said. Contrarily, there are those who did grow
up Orthodox but have become disenchanted with it. For them, the follower
said, the Kiddush Club offers a means of preserving a connection.
For its part, the O.U. expects some resistance. Indeed, they are practically
hoping for it.
"Resistance is a term that can be used clinically," said O.U. Executive Vice
President Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb, who is also a clinical psychologist.
"You get resistance when you touch a sore spot. It's a sign that you're on
to something."
their synagogues the informal drinking circles known as Kiddush Clubs.
In letters addressed to member rabbis, the O.U., which represents some 1,000
congregations, has encouraged synagogues to devote the Sabbath of February 5
to launching a Kiddush Club crackdown.
The move comes as part of a broader push that the O.U. has dubbed "Safe
Homes, Safe Shuls, Safe Schools," an effort to address the problem of
teenage substance abuse in the Orthodox community. The issue was brought to
the fore in November when police raided a beer-soaked house party hosted by
an 18-year-old New Jersey yeshiva student, where 42 people, most of whom
were students at Jewish day schools some as young as 14 were
arrested.
Kiddush Clubs are small self-selected groups, usually of younger to
middle-aged men, who will slip out of Saturday morning services, often
during the Haftorah reading from the Prophets or during the rabbi's sermon,
to sip single-malt Scotch sometimes accompanied by some food and socialize.
The problem with the clubs is twofold, O.U. leaders said in a meeting with
the Forward. They desecrate Saturday morning prayers and set a bad example
for the community's youth.
"Kiddush is a way to sanctify the day," said Rabbi Moshe Krupka, the O.U.'s
executive director of programming. "You're not sanctifying the Sabbath by
walking into the cloak room with a hip flask of single-malt Scotch."
The decision to eliminate the Kiddush Clubs was an outgrowth of a meeting of
rabbis and educators convened by the O.U. on December 21 to discuss
questions of substance abuse, gambling, smoking and promiscuity among
Orthodox teens. Two days later, in a conference call of O.U. board members,
the move was approved by a 9-1 margin.
O.U. leaders stressed that the Kiddush Club initiative is not a silver
bullet for the Orthodox world's woes, but rather a dramatic first step.
"We don't want for people to think that this resolution is the answer to
what happened in Livingston," Krupka said. "It is, rather, part of an
unfolding educational process."
News of the O.U. resolution already has begun to prompt reactions from the
Orthodox community.
There is room within the framework of the Jewish tradition for responsible
alcohol consumption, argued Rabbi Allen Schwartz of Congregation Ohab Zedek
on Manhattan's Upper West Side, but Kiddush Clubs have tested those
boundaries.
"Once people start bringing cholent and having four or five shots, it's just
not responsible," Rabbi Schwartz said.
Though Rabbi Schwartz applauds the O.U.'s effort, he remains skeptical about
their recommendation's prospects.
"If people are looking for a Kiddush Club, they'll find one," he said.
Instead of banning the clubs, Rabbi Schwartz pointed toward other means of
lessening their appeal, such as encouraging broader congregational
involvement in the services, especially the reading of the Haftorah, and
preventing prayers from dragging on too long.
Defenders of the institution have argued that Kiddush Clubs have come to
occupy a unique — and irreplaceable — refuge on the fringes of
Orthodox life.
"There are people who didn't grow up Orthodox for whom the Kiddush Club
offers a means of entering into the life of the synagogue," one follower of
the Kiddush Club phenomenon said. Contrarily, there are those who did grow
up Orthodox but have become disenchanted with it. For them, the follower
said, the Kiddush Club offers a means of preserving a connection.
For its part, the O.U. expects some resistance. Indeed, they are practically
hoping for it.
"Resistance is a term that can be used clinically," said O.U. Executive Vice
President Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb, who is also a clinical psychologist.
"You get resistance when you touch a sore spot. It's a sign that you're on
to something."