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Being Invisible for Two Weeks

What two weeks of being a visitor taught me about welcoming people

Recently, we were the visitors.

For two weeks we were Israel, and every day we went to the same shul. For two weeks, no one noticed us.

Well, that is not entirely true. The tzedakah collectors certainly noticed us. They paid a great deal of attention to us, every single day, asking for more. And there was one other person who noticed. A week and a half in, somebody came over to tell us that we were sitting in someone else’s seat.

That was our welcome to a new shul and community.

Sadly, I do not believe this experience is very different from what many people encounter in a new shul or a new community. People walk in and they are invisible. They are ignored, told to move, and solicited. One has to ask, why is that? Why should a person have such an empty experience as a visitor?

Will it Matter?

Part of the reason, I think, is that people do not believe their own greeting can make a difference. Why should I reach out? Will it really matter? The answer is yes. It does. Just a good morning. Just a welcome. Just a “where are you visiting from” goes a very long way.

Maybe they’ll be insulted

Another reason is hesitation. Maybe this person has been coming here for years and I simply never noticed, and I will feel foolish. Maybe he will be insulted that I am welcoming him as though he were new. But it is not worth the risk of staying silent when you could make a difference in somebody else’s life. And yes, once in a while someone will be affronted, or someone will say, “I have been your neighbor for the last twenty years and you never noticed.” That still does not take away the value and the importance of reaching out to someone you do not know.

I don’t daven in a shul

Some people will say, I go to a place where there are lots of minyanim. How am I to greet others when I am just another visitor? That is exactly why it is so important to belong to a shul. That is why it is so important to be involved in a larger community. A place where your absence is noticed. A place where your presence makes a difference. A place you are not there only because it is convenient, but a place where you belong, where you put down roots and connect to the people who live there. These are such important things.

I have enough friends

Some people simply grow comfortable. I know my friends I don’t need new people to worry about. From the perspective of the Rabbi, I look out and see so many incredible people who all have so much value but it is so saddening when so few of the people know all the other people in the same room. We all become enriched when we get to know each other. I have noticed that those who are willing to continue to expand their horizons remain younger in life than those who choose to close off. It is a choice we make.

How much of a difference it makes to reach out

On that same trip to Israel, I met someone at one of the places we were touring. He told me that nine years earlier he had visited America and had come to our shul, together with his children, and did not know a soul there. They had no context. He told me that I had come over to them, welcomed them warmly, and taken an interest in each one of the children. His kids still remember it to this day, nine years later.

It made me realize how small a thing it takes to make so large a difference. It is so easy to walk over to somebody. It is so easy to take ownership of being a host. It is so easy to make somebody’s day simply by noticing them and welcoming them. It can be something as simple as committing to greet one person a week. That still makes a difference.

This is how our communities grow. This is how we spread our wings. This is how we make a difference in other people’s lives. I truly hope that all of us can learn to be the ones who make that difference for others.