We’re One of those Rare Places
Written by Dena Schusterman:
Chabad Intown YJP Intown Atlanta is one of those rare places where you can walk in and instantly feel at home—even if you’ve never set foot there before. Services are laid-back, come-as-you-are. We’ve got the “learners’ service,” where men and women sit together, ask questions out loud, and no one pretends to know the Hebrew by heart.
And then there’s the more traditional service, where the singing and praying sound almost exactly like your childhood—if your childhood came with spirited, soulful clapping, a chazan who can beatbox on the bimah (thank you, Dov Rosenblatt Aura Schwartz), and a rabbi who interrupts the chazzan with side commentary.
This holiday was nothing short of beautiful. Jews of every imaginable background came through our doors. We sat down to three gourmet meals prepared by Chef Evin — yes, she made green matcha cookies and kugel worthy of Michelin stars.
Our tables were dressed with centerpieces so stunning—handmade by our artist-in-residence, Justine—that even the apples and pomegranates seemed to whisper, we are here for the taking. Which may explain why my adult children immediately staged what looked like a pomegranate seed retrieval contest. Many were eaten; enough stayed put, continuing to look gorgeous in their wooden dish.
There was singing, there was laughing, there was meditating, and yes, there was the piercing cry of the shofar.
But what struck me most wasn’t the food or the prayers; it was the web of connections that revealed itself as the holiday unfolded.
Dozens of new faces walked through our doors. And almost every single one had a story about Chabad. Their campus rabbi had officiated at their wedding. A Chabad rabbi in Miami had introduced them to their roommate. Their child was eating a holiday meal that very day at an out-of-state Chabad House near their college. Someone swore a Chabadnik once saved their aunt’s life. Another insisted Chabad rescued their dog. (I didn’t ask for details, but I’m choosing to believe there’s a yarmulke-wearing labradoodle out there, alive and well, thanks to our tribe.)
As these stories flowed, I kept picturing a web in my mind—each strand a connection between Chabad Intown and another Chabad House, and from there to a family, a friend, a colleague. The web kept expanding, growing denser, more intricate, more secure---until it stretched across all four corners of the world.
Hinei ma tov u’manayim shevet achim gam yachad. “How pleasant it is when brothers and sisters sit together.”
And there we were—siblings. Left and right, liberal and conservative, Sephardi and Ashkenazi, born-Jewish and Jew-by-choice, dog lovers and cat people—all woven into one great, universal Jewish stitching.
Because at Chabad Intown, it isn’t really about which service you choose or how perfectly you daven. It’s about belonging. It’s about seeing how the strands of our stories tie us together, and realizing the web has been there all along.
Yom Kippur is just around the corner. Come taste Chef Evin’s cooking (pre-fast, if you sign up—real fast!), and experience the unique services at Chabad Intown.
Let me know in the comments HOW you were part of this web! Were you at any Chabad? Was your child? A relative?"
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