By Meredith Bowen
Amid the shifting colors of scarves and ski jackets in the hustle of Schine Student Center, Rabbi Yitzchak Creeger stands out.
He and his eldest son, Schneur, 4, have become local figures of sorts throughout the past semester. The father dressed in the traditional black jacket, hat and beard of Chasidic rabbis, and his son, his stop-you-in-your tracks red hair topped with a pint-size yarmulke, are hard to miss, handing out fliers around the High Holidays or tabling in Schine.
Creeger and his wife, Dina Creeger, took over the student outreach program of Chabad Lubavitch House in the fall, and since then, their family has grown from their two children, Schneur and Yossi, 1, to include both regular Chabad attendees and any student who comes to the front door.
Chabad Lubavitch is an orthodox Jewish sect that focuses on the intellect and has long had a presence on college campuses. Chabad has been in Syracuse since 1984, and there are more than 3,300 centers in the world, serving both colleges and communities.
Chabad's student outreach had lost its momentum in recent years, as Rabbi Yaakov Rapoport grew increasingly involved in his work with the Central New York community, which the Ostrom House serves.
"There's no indoctrination, we don't want people to be like us," Creeger said. "We just want to welcome people into our home."
The unassuming two-floor building at 825 Ostrom Ave. serves both as the Chabad House and as the Creegers' home, a combination they say has helped make the center more of a home away from home for all Jewish students.
It is a home that hustles and moves, becoming the location of everything from Friday evening Shabbat services and dinner to woodworking and baking. The calendar is filling up with events, and, slowly, so are the seats. A table featuring a scribe drew a steady flow of Jewish and non-Jewish students, and a presentation by Super Bowl 1992 champion Alan Veingrad drew nearly 40 people.
At everything from cooking lessons to sushi dinners, the Creegers are slowly educating more Jewish students about the culture and history. Even Schneur gets into the act, effectively attracting half a dozen women in Schine, Creeger said.
The Creegers are trying to reach out to Reformed Jewish students as well as Orthodox or Traditional students who might be more familiar with Chasidic practices and prayers. Reformed Judaism is the most liberal branch, allowing traditional practices to be adapted to modern circumstances and not requiring strict observance; Orthodox Judaism is stricter, requiring the law of the Torah be kept.
It was strange at first for Jonathan Shlang, who began going to Chabad services alone in September. The freshman in the Martin J. Whitman School of Management soon felt comfortable, welcomed by the Creegers' warmth, and now returns weekly, often bringing friends.
"It's keeping me tied with my religion," Shlang said, who was raised in a more traditional home. "While I'm away from the norm of how I practice at home, it's keeping me on track."
The house is not only a home for students; during Yom Kippur, the Creegers put up a woman stranded in the airport for the night and welcomed her for the holiday.
"That's what we're here for," Creeger said. "Whether you're stranded for four hours or living here for four years."
It was the warm hominess that drew Rebecca Glass, a sophomore history major, back to Chabad, despite that the first night she went on Oct. 21, she ate the Shabbat dinner outside on one of the coldest nights of the year to observe Succos.
"It's just completely done away with all of my previous notions of traditional Judaism," said Glass, who was raised in a Reformed home and now serves on the student executive board.
The notions are common fears the Creegers are well familiar with. Though he understands how his beard and black suit can be intimidating, Creeger still finds the idea of never trying Chabad because of old assumptions unfair to the students who miss out.
"It makes me feel bad that someone is cutting themselves off of a Jewish branch," Creeger said. "I don't know if they know what they're being separate from."
What they're mission is education, and the Creegers readily open up to anyone inquiring about Judaism, from students wishing to understand their faith more, to non-Jewish students who are interested in studying it or just working on a class project.
"God wants us to teach them, and (the Torah) shouldn't be kept to ourselves," Creeger says. "It should be taught and shared."
The Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament of the Bible, is the basis of Judaism. Chasidim refrain from writing the name of the Lord to preserve its sanctity.
The Creegers are branching out, adding new programs and working with other organizations, including Hillel. While Hillel services draw a bigger crowd, no one sees this as a loss or a challenge.
"It's a personal preference of how to pray, of what environment," Shlang said.
On Friday nights Hillel gets 75 to 80 students, while Chabad may have five or six, but Creeger is nothing but happy for Hillel and the students there, and Joel Miller, executive director of Hillel, is equally happy for Chabad. There is always a need for more Yiddish-keit, or the feeling of Jewishness on campus, Miller said.
"We all feel there are close to 3,000 Jewish students on campus," Miller said. "There are students that need to be touched in one way or another."
The variety of choices only makes things more popular, Dina Creeger said.
"If there's two Shabbat parties or three Shabbat parties," she said, "it makes it seem as if it's more of a thing to do."
Students are starting to bring friends; word-of-mouth and peer pressure are useful advertisements. The do-what-you-can-when-you-can attitude, in a feat of reverse psychology, was in part what made Glass up her commitment and join the board.
"It's not like some of the other things I've gotten involved in," Glass said, "where its life or death if you don't come."
Shlang has been convincing friends to come, his eye on getting enough attendees on Friday nights to consistently have minyan, a group of 10 men or more, which allows additional prayers to be said.
"(Rabbi Creeger) knows what he needs to do," Miller said. "He's got a vision of what he wants to do on this campus."
Though still settling in - the final touches are being put on a student lounge and the Creegers are still hunting down furniture for their home - the couple has their eyes toward the future.
Plans are already in motion to start a monthly program with State University of New York-Oswego, where Jewish students have a Chabad presence.
While they constantly hope for the coming of the Moshiach, or the Messiah, the Creegers are also planning for a long tenure at Syracuse and making plans to be a permanent fixture on the SU campus. And, of course, they are constantly thinking of new ways to help students, if only for a little while.
"Slow and steady is fine by me," Creeger said. "One or two a week is a success. And if they come back, that's an even bigger success."
Amid the shifting colors of scarves and ski jackets in the hustle of Schine Student Center, Rabbi Yitzchak Creeger stands out.
He and his eldest son, Schneur, 4, have become local figures of sorts throughout the past semester. The father dressed in the traditional black jacket, hat and beard of Chasidic rabbis, and his son, his stop-you-in-your tracks red hair topped with a pint-size yarmulke, are hard to miss, handing out fliers around the High Holidays or tabling in Schine.
Creeger and his wife, Dina Creeger, took over the student outreach program of Chabad Lubavitch House in the fall, and since then, their family has grown from their two children, Schneur and Yossi, 1, to include both regular Chabad attendees and any student who comes to the front door.
Chabad Lubavitch is an orthodox Jewish sect that focuses on the intellect and has long had a presence on college campuses. Chabad has been in Syracuse since 1984, and there are more than 3,300 centers in the world, serving both colleges and communities.
Chabad's student outreach had lost its momentum in recent years, as Rabbi Yaakov Rapoport grew increasingly involved in his work with the Central New York community, which the Ostrom House serves.
"There's no indoctrination, we don't want people to be like us," Creeger said. "We just want to welcome people into our home."
The unassuming two-floor building at 825 Ostrom Ave. serves both as the Chabad House and as the Creegers' home, a combination they say has helped make the center more of a home away from home for all Jewish students.
It is a home that hustles and moves, becoming the location of everything from Friday evening Shabbat services and dinner to woodworking and baking. The calendar is filling up with events, and, slowly, so are the seats. A table featuring a scribe drew a steady flow of Jewish and non-Jewish students, and a presentation by Super Bowl 1992 champion Alan Veingrad drew nearly 40 people.
At everything from cooking lessons to sushi dinners, the Creegers are slowly educating more Jewish students about the culture and history. Even Schneur gets into the act, effectively attracting half a dozen women in Schine, Creeger said.
The Creegers are trying to reach out to Reformed Jewish students as well as Orthodox or Traditional students who might be more familiar with Chasidic practices and prayers. Reformed Judaism is the most liberal branch, allowing traditional practices to be adapted to modern circumstances and not requiring strict observance; Orthodox Judaism is stricter, requiring the law of the Torah be kept.
It was strange at first for Jonathan Shlang, who began going to Chabad services alone in September. The freshman in the Martin J. Whitman School of Management soon felt comfortable, welcomed by the Creegers' warmth, and now returns weekly, often bringing friends.
"It's keeping me tied with my religion," Shlang said, who was raised in a more traditional home. "While I'm away from the norm of how I practice at home, it's keeping me on track."
The house is not only a home for students; during Yom Kippur, the Creegers put up a woman stranded in the airport for the night and welcomed her for the holiday.
"That's what we're here for," Creeger said. "Whether you're stranded for four hours or living here for four years."
It was the warm hominess that drew Rebecca Glass, a sophomore history major, back to Chabad, despite that the first night she went on Oct. 21, she ate the Shabbat dinner outside on one of the coldest nights of the year to observe Succos.
"It's just completely done away with all of my previous notions of traditional Judaism," said Glass, who was raised in a Reformed home and now serves on the student executive board.
The notions are common fears the Creegers are well familiar with. Though he understands how his beard and black suit can be intimidating, Creeger still finds the idea of never trying Chabad because of old assumptions unfair to the students who miss out.
"It makes me feel bad that someone is cutting themselves off of a Jewish branch," Creeger said. "I don't know if they know what they're being separate from."
What they're mission is education, and the Creegers readily open up to anyone inquiring about Judaism, from students wishing to understand their faith more, to non-Jewish students who are interested in studying it or just working on a class project.
"God wants us to teach them, and (the Torah) shouldn't be kept to ourselves," Creeger says. "It should be taught and shared."
The Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament of the Bible, is the basis of Judaism. Chasidim refrain from writing the name of the Lord to preserve its sanctity.
The Creegers are branching out, adding new programs and working with other organizations, including Hillel. While Hillel services draw a bigger crowd, no one sees this as a loss or a challenge.
"It's a personal preference of how to pray, of what environment," Shlang said.
On Friday nights Hillel gets 75 to 80 students, while Chabad may have five or six, but Creeger is nothing but happy for Hillel and the students there, and Joel Miller, executive director of Hillel, is equally happy for Chabad. There is always a need for more Yiddish-keit, or the feeling of Jewishness on campus, Miller said.
"We all feel there are close to 3,000 Jewish students on campus," Miller said. "There are students that need to be touched in one way or another."
The variety of choices only makes things more popular, Dina Creeger said.
"If there's two Shabbat parties or three Shabbat parties," she said, "it makes it seem as if it's more of a thing to do."
Students are starting to bring friends; word-of-mouth and peer pressure are useful advertisements. The do-what-you-can-when-you-can attitude, in a feat of reverse psychology, was in part what made Glass up her commitment and join the board.
"It's not like some of the other things I've gotten involved in," Glass said, "where its life or death if you don't come."
Shlang has been convincing friends to come, his eye on getting enough attendees on Friday nights to consistently have minyan, a group of 10 men or more, which allows additional prayers to be said.
"(Rabbi Creeger) knows what he needs to do," Miller said. "He's got a vision of what he wants to do on this campus."
Though still settling in - the final touches are being put on a student lounge and the Creegers are still hunting down furniture for their home - the couple has their eyes toward the future.
Plans are already in motion to start a monthly program with State University of New York-Oswego, where Jewish students have a Chabad presence.
While they constantly hope for the coming of the Moshiach, or the Messiah, the Creegers are also planning for a long tenure at Syracuse and making plans to be a permanent fixture on the SU campus. And, of course, they are constantly thinking of new ways to help students, if only for a little while.
"Slow and steady is fine by me," Creeger said. "One or two a week is a success. And if they come back, that's an even bigger success."
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