Showing Up with and Open Mind
BY Melanie Ross Levin, Development Manager at Jewish Federation of Delaware
When I lived in Washington, D.C., I attended High Holiday services at George Washington University. It was convenient, but more than that, the real draw for me was that the services were led by alumni of my beloved Kutz Leadership Camp.
Kutz, sadly now closed, was a place where I felt deeply connected to my Judaism. During those services at GW, if I closed my eyes, I could transport myself right back into the “Tron,” the central gathering space at camp. I was back with my friends, back in a space where Jewish life felt vibrant, personal, and alive.
The services were packed. As I made my way out, moving slowly with the crowd, I overheard something that stuck with me. One person in front of me turned to their companion and said, “That was the best service I’ve ever been to. I loved it—it reminded me of camp.” Without missing a beat, another voice chimed in, “What was that? That was the worst service I’ve ever attended. Was that even Jewish? I didn’t know any of the music.”
That moment taught me something important. When you attend a new service, keep an open mind. The tunes might be unfamiliar. The space may not feel like your childhood synagogue. It’s unrealistic to expect every service to match the melodies, rhythm, or traditions with which you grew up. Clergy and lay leaders are doing their best to create meaningful experiences.
No single service can be everything to everyone. But what we can do is show up with curiosity. We can be present. We can embrace the opportunity to be in community.
That lesson has stayed with me far beyond synagogue walls. When I led the Office of Women’s Advancement and Advocacy, I was hired, in part, to revitalize a major annual event at the Delaware Women’s Hall of Fame. After a successful evening in which everything ran smoothly, what stuck with me most wasn’t the logistics or the program—it was the feedback.
One attendee noted they would have preferred no onions or garlic in the meal, even though the venue specialized in Italian catering. That comment didn’t sit well with the planning committee. Not because it was about food preferences, but because it missed the big picture. The event had gone beautifully. The program honored incredible women. The energy in the room was inspiring. And yet, the takeaway for one person was about the pasta.
When we offer feedback—whether in our synagogues, community events, or Jewish programs—we should pause and consider the whole. What worked? What impact did it have? Was the goal met?
Maybe we need to stop sweating the small stuff. Maybe we need to be kinder with our words.
With a war still raging, with Israelis running in and out of bomb shelters, with so many in our global Jewish family living in fear and uncertainty, we need perspective. We need compassion.
To be in a community means making space for everyone, even when it’s uncomfortable or unfamiliar. It means thinking beyond ourselves, our preferences, our routines, and our assumptions.
We need grace. As I became a parent, that started to become one of my favorite words. While in Judaism we tend to use the word chesed, loving-kindness, grace carries something quiet, soft, and forgiving. It allows room for imperfection. It allows space for growth.
We can offer grace to the people doing their best to lead, to organize, to create meaning in chaotic times. That includes clergy, educators, event planners, volunteers, and yes, even caterers.
I know grace isn’t exactly a traditional Jewish concept—but maybe it should be.
One of my favorite personal sayings is, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea—and that’s okay.” All of us are just doing our best in this thing we call life. Our world is heavy right now. But showing up with an open heart, with generosity, and with humility—that’s how we honor each other. That’s how we build a stronger, more inclusive Jewish future.
About the Author:
MELANIE ROSS LEVIN is deeply involved in Delaware’s Jewish community, proudly serving as Development Manager for the Jewish Federation of Delaware, a board member of UD Hillel, and an active member of Congregation Beth Emeth. She lives in North Wilmington with her husband, two daughters, and a MISBEHAVING rescue dog, and is honored to represent the 10th District in the Delaware House of Representatives.
