Charles Glass and Rabbi Yakov Barros have different reasons for hoping the month-old Bay Area Torah Institute will spark a Jewish Renaissance.
Glass is a Holocaust survivor from Poland who laments the loss of Jewish knowledge in successive generations. A 51-year member of Adath Israel, he has deep roots in San Francisco’s Orthodox community.
The 26-year-old Barros, originally from Brazil, is new to town. His mission is to package Judaism for an audience weaned on MTV.
Both of them see BATI — the acronym means “my house” in Hebrew — as the vehicle for achieving their goals.
Housed temporarily at Adath Israel, but not affiliated with the Orthodox shul, BATI grew out of a brainstorming session among a handful of members from the city’s Orthodox community. After an intensive search for a leader, the group raised almost $100,000 to recruit Barros and provide an infrastructure and materials.
The rabbi is now hosting weekly Torah and Talmud “rap sessions” with a dozen teenagers, who discuss everything from Maimonides to peer pressure and dating. The group, which meets free of charge, is affiliated with the National Council of Synagogue Youth.
“Judaism must be presented in a fresh way, in a way that’s not sterile and old,” said Barros, smacking his fists together for emphasis. He believes the main obstacle to reaching Jewish kids today is lack of relevancy.
“How is the story of Adam and Eve relevant today and how can we bring the Torah to life? That’s the challenge that’s facing our community,” he said. Navigating the gap between Jewish teens and Jewish knowledge requires familiarity with teen vernacular and concerns.
“Hey, I like Korn and I like Metallica,” said Barros, speaking of the L.A. and San Francisco-area hardcore metal bands. Barros, who also cites conga player Pancho Sanchez and the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach as influences, envisions BATI evolving into a kollel, a school where a handful of young Orthodox couples would teach Jewish studies and philosophy during the day, and study at night.
Both Barros and Glass see the program as a springboard for a revitalized Jewish community.
“Los Angeles was a desert as far as the Jewish community was concerned until it had a kollel,” said Barros. “Now they have three, and Jewish life is flourishing.”
According to Glass, the kollel would fill the void between Jewish schools and synagogues. “You have a young generation today that is very thirsty for Jewish knowledge,” said Glass, who is a board member of BATI. “Almost 90 percent of my generation went to shul regularly. But we have lost a lot of Jewish generations to TV, apathy and even to other religions such as Buddhism.”
While some people who survived “all kinds of hell” in the camps abandoned their faith, the experience deepened Glass’ convictions and connections to Judaism. One of his two children works with Steven Spielberg’s Survivor’s of the Shoah Visual History Foundation in Los Angeles, and his grandchildren are also Jewishly involved.
Ultimately, Glass would like to see the kollel produce the kind of Jewish neighborhood that he remembers from his arrival in San Francisco a half-century ago. Glass fondly recalled the kosher butcher shops, restaurants and synagogues of the Fillmore District and Western Addition, and believes that a similar environment could be created if there were an effort to reach out to young Jewish families.
“We’re not just talking about Orthodox Jews, but Jews from all across the board looking to get back to their roots,” said Glass. “A kollel is really a place where Jewish culture thrives. I think that’s one element that’s really missing here in the Bay Area. I really think that the Jewish community can be reborn here.”