 | Spiritual community is a vital Third Place – not home or work, nor totally public – that can help anchor, comfort and shape us. Like the Boston pub in "Cheers," spiritual community ideally is "where everybody knows your name / And they're always glad you came." We might say likewise of secular clubs, volunteer groups and hangouts becoming less common in the digital society. But spiritual community is unique in how it calls us to be authentically and fully ourselves, warts and all – and then evolve. |
By Rabbi David Evan Markus
Tazria-Metzora 5786 (2026)
Long before social media and artificial intelligence swept through society, one of my Harvard teachers saw that digital life would challenge our Third Places and with them, our happiness.
What are Third Places? They're societal spaces that aren't private like homes, or mandatory like work or school, or entirely public like Central Park. Third Places include clubs, local coffee houses and pubs ("Cheers"), salons, barber shops and senior centers. They're community spaces where people tend to most readily "be themselves in public" – that is, a "public" scaled down to a manageable size and scope.
What makes Third Places so valuable is that they tend to be open and inviting, comfortable and informal, convenient and unpretentious, talkative and often light-hearted. That's why some spiritual communities are among the most potent and important Third Places.
Recent decades taught what Jewish life has known for millennia. Third Places are essential to happiness, civic engagement and societal health. Spiritual communities are especially valuable because they're about values, calling us to be our most authentic selves and then our best selves – which means being vulnerable.
As sociologist Brené Brown reminds in her famous TED talk about vulnerability, it is our ability and willingness to be vulnerable that is the linchpin of relationship, happiness, healing, and transformation. No coincidence that these are spirituality's ultimate concerns.
This week's Torah portion reflects this spiritual truth in the ancient experience and rituals of tzora'at. a spiritual illness that could manifest physically on the body and on house walls. Think of tzora'at like an otherworldly cousin to leprosy mixed with toxic mold. Tzora'at was imagined to follow lashon ha-ra (wrong speech) and certain other character flaws. A person afflicted with tzora'at became particularly vulnerable: lesions looked ugly, they were treated as if contagious, and for a time they became utterly dependent.
What does tzora'at have to do with authenticity, change and Third Spaces?
When someone appeared to have tzora'at, it had to be inspected and declared so aloud. And then the person having tzora'at needed to say so publicly – also aloud. Only then could they begin the transformation to heal from tzora'at and the inner sickness deep within.
Drawing attention to something off-putting about oneself might seem intimidating and even humiliating to modern eyes. Today's success-oriented public culture is keen to keep up appearances both literally and figuratively. It's a far from ancient Jewish society that made it safe(r) to be authentic amidst vulnerability. Back then, there was no shame in calling things what they were – even our own imperfections spiritually projected onto our appearance.
Today we need our Third Spaces, and especially spiritual communities, for being fully and authentically ourselves, flaws and all, and then evolving and healing. The Jewish path is very much about this Third Space – not total privacy or total publicity, but a vibrant middle.
To let ourselves be truly known, warts and all, is a spiritual act of courage and vulnerability. To make a community in which all can be truly known, and then transform toward their best self, is the North Star of Jewish spiritual life.
Tazria-Metzora 5786 (2026)
Long before social media and artificial intelligence swept through society, one of my Harvard teachers saw that digital life would challenge our Third Places and with them, our happiness.
What are Third Places? They're societal spaces that aren't private like homes, or mandatory like work or school, or entirely public like Central Park. Third Places include clubs, local coffee houses and pubs ("Cheers"), salons, barber shops and senior centers. They're community spaces where people tend to most readily "be themselves in public" – that is, a "public" scaled down to a manageable size and scope.
What makes Third Places so valuable is that they tend to be open and inviting, comfortable and informal, convenient and unpretentious, talkative and often light-hearted. That's why some spiritual communities are among the most potent and important Third Places.
Recent decades taught what Jewish life has known for millennia. Third Places are essential to happiness, civic engagement and societal health. Spiritual communities are especially valuable because they're about values, calling us to be our most authentic selves and then our best selves – which means being vulnerable.
As sociologist Brené Brown reminds in her famous TED talk about vulnerability, it is our ability and willingness to be vulnerable that is the linchpin of relationship, happiness, healing, and transformation. No coincidence that these are spirituality's ultimate concerns.
This week's Torah portion reflects this spiritual truth in the ancient experience and rituals of tzora'at. a spiritual illness that could manifest physically on the body and on house walls. Think of tzora'at like an otherworldly cousin to leprosy mixed with toxic mold. Tzora'at was imagined to follow lashon ha-ra (wrong speech) and certain other character flaws. A person afflicted with tzora'at became particularly vulnerable: lesions looked ugly, they were treated as if contagious, and for a time they became utterly dependent.
What does tzora'at have to do with authenticity, change and Third Spaces?
When someone appeared to have tzora'at, it had to be inspected and declared so aloud. And then the person having tzora'at needed to say so publicly – also aloud. Only then could they begin the transformation to heal from tzora'at and the inner sickness deep within.
Drawing attention to something off-putting about oneself might seem intimidating and even humiliating to modern eyes. Today's success-oriented public culture is keen to keep up appearances both literally and figuratively. It's a far from ancient Jewish society that made it safe(r) to be authentic amidst vulnerability. Back then, there was no shame in calling things what they were – even our own imperfections spiritually projected onto our appearance.
Today we need our Third Spaces, and especially spiritual communities, for being fully and authentically ourselves, flaws and all, and then evolving and healing. The Jewish path is very much about this Third Space – not total privacy or total publicity, but a vibrant middle.
To let ourselves be truly known, warts and all, is a spiritual act of courage and vulnerability. To make a community in which all can be truly known, and then transform toward their best self, is the North Star of Jewish spiritual life.
RSS Feed