Lisa Lepson, the Executive Director of the Joshua Venture group, writes in her piece Where Yesterday Meets Tomorrow:

“The Judaism that is evolving before our eyes isn’t really new or innovative. In fact, the whole concept of evolution is at the core of Judaism. What our social entrepreneurs are doing is making tradition relevant to us once more, fusing them with contemporary values and bestowing upon them new life. They are leading a vibrant “re-generation” of our cultural and spiritual heritage”

The holiday of Shavuot, a pillar in the Pilgrimage Festival series that also includes Passover and Sukkot, illustrates the Jewish dance between innovation and tradition, and embodies the concept of “making tradition relevant to us once more.”

The holiday has multiple names, revealing its multiple identities. Shavuot, which means “weeks,” refers to the fact that the holiday takes place seven weeks after the beginning of Passover (Deuteronomy 16:9 – 12); the Torah tells us to count from the time of the barley, or Omer, harvest, until the time of the wheat harvest, which we celebrate on Shavuot. The holiday is also called Chag HaBikkurim (Numbers 28:26), the Festival of the First Fruits. This time of year marked the ripening of Israel’s first fruits, and the Mishnah in Tractate Bikkurim describes how people from all over Israel marched to Jerusalem with their fruits in beautiful baskets to give to the priest in the Temple. Shavuot is also known as Chag HaKatzir, the Festival of the Harvest (Exodus 23: 16), since Shavuot marks the summer harvest in Israel.

The Jewish community has been a-buzz in recent years about its “Innovation Ecosystem,” a term coined by Shawn Landres and Joshua Avedon in their report published in 2008. The report revealed that a substantial number of new Jewish organizations, which think and behave differently from existing, often flailing, Jewish institutions, are cropping up at a rapid pace. These organizations are radically changing the landscape of the Jewish community, meeting its most pressing needs, and providing creative, relevant, and substantive Jewish programming to Jews not participating in pre-existing structures.

My question is: Why aren’t more of our creative social entrepreneurs dedicating their energies to re-envisioning, re-imagining, and re-shaping those institutions that, arguably, have the potential to make the biggest impact on the Jewish community – our schools?

The holiday of Pesach is an opportunity. It is a time of going through the cupboards and drawers, getting rid of what is no longer necessary, and making space for fresh possibilities. It is a time during which we are reminded to ask ourselves and each other difficult questions, and to create space for the youngest, most wide-eyed, and most curious among us, whether we consider them wise, wicked, simple, or uninvolved, and hear their questions. Not only must we hear their questions, but we must take those questions so seriously that they delay our matza-ball soup and brisket for hours.

A recent article in the Business section of the Sunday New York Times, entitled “6 Months, $90,000, and (Maybe) a Great Idea,” described the phenomenon of the “Entrepreneur in Residence”(EIR). In Silicon Valley, there is a growing trend amongst venture capital firms to give business entrepreneurs, many of whom have successfully started and sold companies in the past, the opportunity to use their office space, benefit from a generous stipend, and put on their thinking hats. The hope is that they will come up with the next Google or Facebook.

Michael Bauer is one such entrepreneur the article highlights: “While the expectations are high for his ideas, Mr. Bauer maintains that the E.I.R. programs work precisely because failure is allowed in Silicon Valley. … In other parts of the world, there is a big stigma on your résumé if you try and fail,” he said. “That doesn’t happen here. Instead, people like the E.I.R.’s are ready to keep on taking swings.”

In the field of innovation, there is an inevitable spectrum of success and struggle. Entrepreneurs must balance and then thrive in a continuum of experiences that range from wild successes to setbacks and even failure. This is true in the general world, and it is true in the field of Jewish innovation as well.

Purim is a celebration of reversals. The Book of Esther, which is traditionally read twice on the holiday, states in Chapter 9 verse 1:

Now in the twelfth month, which is the month Adar, on the thirteenth day of the same, when the king's commandment and his decree drew near to be put in execution, in the day that the enemies of the Jews hoped to have rule over them; whereas it was turned to the contrary, that the Jews had rule over them that hated them.

This notion, of things being turned on their heads, called “venahafoch hu” in Hebrew, is at the core of this lively, raucous little holiday. The very purpose of our celebrating is intertwined with this overturning “from sorrow to gladness, and from mourning into a holiday” (Esther 9:22). As Rabbi Irving Greenberg puts it in his essay “Confronting Jewish Destiny: Purim,” in his book The Jewish Way: Living the Holidays:

Part of the dizzying paradox of Purim is the extraordinary and capricious reversals it reflects. Vashti is deposed as queen for showing modesty. Esther wins favor for the queenship because of her modesty…Mordecai, in one day, is raised from gallows candidate to prime minister. The very name of the holiday – Purim (meaning lottery) – suggests the absurdity and vulnerability of historical events when a turn of the wheel, a night’s insomnia, a moment of jealousy on the part of a drunken king, spells the difference between degradation and exaltation, between genocide and survival. 

On Purim, we wear costumes, get drunk, and let go of the daily inhibitions – the cloak of order – that characterizes our lives, in order to acknowledge that our lives can change on a dime, and that a situation that looks devastating and grim can in fact become uplifting and celebratory.

But what is lurking beneath this notion of “venahafoch hu?”  And what does it have to teach us, as a Jewish community, about our relationship to innovation and change, and those who turn, and sometimes overturn, the strictures of our community?

We stand huddled together at the top of the path, where the edge of the forest meets the edge of the concrete parking lot.  We stand with clipboard rosters in gloved hands, our breath making little clouds in the crisp morning air.  We stand as our elders many generations before us may have stood, beckoning to our people to come out of all that is man-made and into the grove of green below.  Saul, Julie and I invite the young parents and their bright beaming kids, the folks our age rediscovering faith and old friends, and the elder couples, to make their way down the path in silent reverence and heightened awareness of all that is growing, pulsing, alive in the forest.  One by one, and four by four, the folks descend on the trail to the ritual space.  And then it is time for us go, two by two, the first to arrive and the last to make the journey. 

It’s that time of year again – the days are shorter and colder, and across cultures people huddle together with family members, and brighten the dark evenings with orbs of light. Chanukah is upon us. We eat latkes and jelly donuts to remember the oil that miraculously lasted in the ancient temple. We light candles each night, increasing light and holiness in the world. We remember the miraculous victory of the few against the many, and celebrate our religious and cultural freedom. And, of course, we play dreidel – and teach our young and tender to gamble.

Bob Goldfarb, in his recent piece Innovation, Management, and Leadership, raises an interesting question about the relationship between “innovation” and “leadership.” He writes: “From a structural perspective… [innovators] have simply added independent, entrepreneurial elements to Jewish communal life that complement the established, centralized bureaucracies.”

But is that really all they have done?

Gary Rosenblatt, in his article “The Push & Pull of Jewish Philanthropy” in this week’s Jewish Week, writes:

“Start-ups look to federations and foundations for funding but don’t want to be associated with federations (too old school for them); federations may support the new start-ups as part of their effort to attract younger donors and be innovative, but resent that the start-ups keep their distance; and family foundations may play in both camps but are seen as unpredictable, and maybe too independent. Meanwhile, these three key groups are interdependent as well at times, relying on each other for funds, ideas and/or credibility. And the dance goes on.”

What did you harvest in your life this year? And what seeds will you plant now – seeds that will lay dormant for the winter, to be nourished by the rain and soil – that will spread their leaves next spring?

These were some of the questions we pondered as one hundred and fifteen people spanning three generations gathered at Green Oaks Creek farm in Pescadero, CA, for the third annual Sukkot on the Farm Festival last weekend. Celebrating the harvest festival on a small, organic farm seemed to us a meaningful way of understanding what it really means to have gratitude for the abundance of life.

Our friend Dave designed and built us a gorgeous 400 square foot (!!) sukkah dripping with eucalyptus leaves and colorful tapestries blowing in the strong, ocean winds. Sitting in it reading from a 250 year-old torah as the sunshine glimmered through the branches was one of the most powerful experiences of the weekend.

I can definitively say that we ate the highest quality, most delicious, local, organic food you could possibly find anywhere. Our produce came from nearly ten local farms that grow everything from famous artichokes to the sweetest corn I’ve ever put to my lips. And Avishai, our magical alchemist chef, transformed it lovingly into some of the tastiest, most nourishing food imaginable. Dayenu, right? But there was more… we harvested our food, toured the farms (we were right next door to Pie Ranch), heard from local farmers about their work, meditated in the redwoods, did yoga, learned about food justice from Peoples’ Grocery founder, Brahm Ahmadi, practiced hitbodedut, learned how to make herbal medicines, pickles and fire by friction. The kids were treated to a live musical performance by members of Octopretzel, nature walks, and their own sukkah. We filled our evenings with bonfires, stories, and moonlit walks up the hill for an ocean view.

This is how Sukkot should be – connected to the land where our food came from, in the company of new and old friends, deepening our spiritual connection on the land, in the very midst of Creation.
I would say that in addition to all the strawberries and tomatoes, we harvested a lot of love and thanks, while planting the seeds of community, connection, and the healing of the earth.

Over the course of Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur, we engage in deep introspection, and strive to achieve personal transformation for the coming year.

Sukkot, the holiday that follows Yom Kippur, reminds us that in order for us to achieve personal growth, we must also examine and renew the space that surrounds us. Over the course of this 8-day holiday, we “move” from our stable, familiar homes to new surroundings: the temporary dwelling of possibility, the Sukkah.

Being in a new space creates the potential not only for continued personal transformation, but also for new communal, interpersonal interactions. The Sukkah is a place to play with the vision of our new selves, and imagine what that self might bring to the communal realm; it is, moreover, a place that begins to define new possibilities for the community at large.

You are in good company if, as head of a start-up organization, you are wary about promoting your idea, and raising the money necessary to succeed. Whatever makes you nervous about the process – the economy, public speaking, grant writing, asking for money, the gnawing frustration that this is not how you had envisioned spending your time, and the unspoken worry that your words will not do justice to your cause – it is inevitable that fears arise when we are faced with the challenge of conveying our passion, and fighting for its life. “Making the pitch,” orally or on paper, to a Foundation or to an individual, to your mother or to a potential client, is among the most daunting tasks any organization, and especially a start-up, faces.

In his article “How PresenTense Defines Success for Ventures Launched,” Ariel Beery explains that when PresenTense claims that “11 out of the 27 ventures that PresenTense’s summer Institute launched in the first two years of existence are successes, we mean that 11 of those 27 ventures have received follow-on funding or merged into other organizations.” Rigorous methods to determine and measure desired impact is critical for the overall growth and ultimate health of the Jewish community.

UpStart Bay Area, whose mission is to advance early stage non-profits that offer innovative Jewish engagement opportunities, applauds PresenTense’s work, and encourages the Jewish community at large to think more about the elements of success for our community’s innovative ventures. If we use our burgeoning Innovation Eco-System, tapping into organizations such as Bikkurim, JumpStart, Joshua Venture, the Pears Foundation, and others that, like UpStart, offer ongoing support during these organizations’ identified vulnerability stage, we can work together to further increase PresenTense’s impressive statistics.

“Knock knock!” “Who’s there?” “Interrupting cow.” “Interrupting Cow who…” “MOO!”

I always get a kick out of that one. My sister’s preferred variation is “interrupting starfish,” which ends with an open palm smooshed into one’s face.

In his June 29th post “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow: Key Questions on Jewish Innovation, Interruption, and Sustainability,” Seth Cohen raises the question: “how do we ensure that…Jewish innovation isn’t interrupted?”

But I wonder - what founder of an innovative nonprofit hasn’t looked up from her desk and been stopped in her tracks by an interruption, hand smooshed into face and all?

Embedded deep within the Jewish tradition are the earth-based practices and values of our ancestors. So to celebrate Shavuot camping at the sacred Mount Tamalpais in Marin County seemed only natural. Seventy-five people from around the Bay Area gathered for an all-night, Tikkun Leil gathering of learning, song, movement and ritual amongst the redwoods. We began with a dinner of homemade soup made from seasonal, organic, and local veggies and the traditional dairy kugels of the holiday, rolled into evening services at sunset and then began a series of offerings from our community. Candlelit study sessions around long picnic tables with Rabbis Sydney Mintz, Daniel Lev, and other local teachers harkened back to days of old when students and rebbes studied and debated by candle light ‘til dawn. In addition to the more traditional text study and storytelling, we sang and danced in the woods, learned frame drumming around a fire, went on silent meditation walks in the dark and practiced pre-dawn yoga. We came together at midnight for a ritual telling of the story of Moses at Mt. Sinai, Hebrew chanting, and a guided visualization of our own metaphoric journeys of revelation.

For those who stayed up for sunrise (or awoke for it), we made our morning prayers at dawn in view of the mountaintop, in a trance induced by prayer, love, and lack of sleep. A communal bikkurim (first fruits) breakfast and closing circle ended our time on the mountain together. It was a time of deep personal reflection and revelation, connection with the Earth and Spirit, and simply a time to celebrate Judaism in a beautiful place amongst loving community.

Tonight, Jews across the world will pull an all-nighter. Some will sit in synagogue all night long; others will “shul-crawl,” going from one synagogue to another; others will sit in their homes, nibbling on cheese-cake and trying not to fall asleep on their couches; others  will camp out on Mt. Tamalpais, re-living the ancient Israelites’ experience of receiving the Torah; while others still are undecided about how and where – but are excited to greet the dawn.

In a recent blog post, Marty Linsky, a leadership expert at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, asked, “Will you reset or hunker down?” Will we will treat today’s economic crisis as a “one-time thing,” and wait for it to blow over, or as a manifestation of a larger pattern, that should encourage us to re-think the way in which we interact and function? In the months since his first musings, he has applied the “reset” metaphor to partisan politics, culture, and the nonprofit sector.

Dr. Anita Friedman, Executive Director of Jewish Family and Children’s Services (http://www.jfcs.org/default.asp), the oldest charity west of the Mississippi, and one of the most innovative and successful Jewish organizations in the United States, was this month’s featured speaker at UpStart’s Executive Director Round Table series. Bringing her stellar leadership experience of over thirty years, her sense of humor, and her honesty to the table, she wowed participants with her Yoda-like wisdom – “Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness,” “I hated it so much that I decided to take it over,” “It’s the difference between a Sushi Restaurant and a Cold Dead Fish Restaurant” – and with her genuine passion and phenomenal knowledge about making organizations thrive.

Here is her top-ten list of essentials for creating, or transforming, an organization: