Zionist professionals teach others to become forward-looking professionals

This weekend, I am in Palo Alto for the Z3 Conference, an annual gathering hosted by the Oshman Family JCC that brings together Jewish thinkers, educators, activists, and community leaders to explore some of the most pressing questions facing Israel, Diaspora Jewry, and our shared Jewish future.

I have the privilege of moderating a panel called New Zionist Frontiers with three remarkable individuals: Roee Azizi, founder of Hinenu; Reuven Taub, co-founder of Alenu, or “On-Us – The Founding Grandchildren”; and Ariela Ronay-Jinich, founder of Olamim, which creates spaces of Jewish belonging for Latino families.

While their work takes different forms, each is challenging conventional assumptions about how Israeli society and the diaspora Jewish community are built, who has the opportunity to shape it, and who bears responsibility for its future.

As I prepared for our conversation, I found myself reflecting on the Hebrew word chalutzim, pioneers.

We often associate pioneers with those who venture into uncharted territory or build something that has never existed before. But these individuals represent a different kind of pioneering. They are reimagining Israeli society and Jewish communal life by helping people recognize their own agency to create change. They understand that leadership is not simply about what we accomplish ourselves, but about cultivating the courage, skills, and sense of responsibility in others, especially the next generation, to carry that work forward.

This raises a question I believe is central to the future of Jewish communal life: Are we building institutions and organizations that people depend upon, or communities that empower people to take responsibility for one another and the future they want to create?

An ancient Talmudic story about Rabbi Chiyya offers a surprisingly relevant perspective.

Rabbi Chiyya the Great lived approximately 1,800 years ago, during the late second and early third centuries CE. Originally from Babylonia, he moved to the Land of Israel, where he studied and worked alongside Rabbi Judah HaNasi, the sage associated with compiling the Mishnah. Rabbi Chiyya became known not only for his scholarship, but for his determination to ensure that Torah learning would endure.

In the Talmud (Bava Metzia 85b), Rabbi Chiyya and Rabbi Chanina offer two different approaches to preserving Torah. Rabbi Chanina believes that his extraordinary scholarship would allow him to reconstruct the Torah even if it were forgotten. Rabbi Chiyya imagines something quite different.

He describes planting flax, weaving nets, catching deer, feeding their meat to orphans, preparing parchment from their hides, and writing Torah scrolls. He then travels to a community, teaching five children one book of the Torah each and six others one order of the Mishnah each.

Before leaving, he instructs the children to teach one another.

Why does the Talmud devote so much attention to the preparation of the parchment? Perhaps because Rabbi Chiyya understood that preserving Jewish learning requires more than an extraordinary teacher. It requires creating the conditions in which knowledge can take root, be shared, and endure beyond any one individual.

Where Rabbi Chanina’s vision relies on the brilliance of one scholar, Rabbi Chiyya cultivates the capacity of many. Each child possesses something the others need, and through the act of teaching, they become partners in preserving Torah. Rabbi Chiyya was not merely transferring knowledge. He was transferring responsibility.

This distinction challenges how I think about the role of JCCs within the broader Jewish life.

Our purpose cannot be limited to creating meaningful experiences or strengthening our own institution. We must also foster the relationships, confidence, and sense of shared responsibility that enable people to shape Jewish life for themselves and others.

Like Rabbi Chiyya and the pioneers I am meeting at Z3, our role is to create an environment where belonging inspires action, learning develops agency, and individuals recognize themselves as partners in the ongoing story of the Jewish people. This requires looking beyond organizational boundaries and understanding that our success is inseparable from the vitality of Jewish life in San Diego, Israel, and communities throughout the world.

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning of being a modern-day chalutz. A pioneer does not simply make a path for others to follow. A pioneer helps others discover that they, too, have the capacity and responsibility to forge new paths.

As Shabbat fades, may this week bring moments when we can begin to see that perhaps our greatest legacy may not be what we build ourselves, but what others are inspired and empowered to build because of us.