A radical secularist, a Chabad enthusiast, and a Conservative Jew walk into a Hoboken apartment together. They all consider themselves at home.

This is no joke: It’s Moishe House, the latest experiment in Jewish community-building.

On a recent Thursday night, cigar smoke scented the air in the sparsely furnished apartment. The three 20-something men who live there, joined by several friends, gathered around a small television in the living room, watching Law and Order. Some took turns sucking on a hookah. In the kitchen, Josh Einstein, 25, prepared lamb and turkey burgers for the group, using strictly kosher meat.

If Hillel offered an apartment for the post-college crowd, this is what it would look like. It’s not exactly your father’s Judaism, but the Shabbat dinners, intellectual forums, and, yes, the hookah are attracting the elusive 20-something generation. While this particular evening attracted men only, that is not always the case, according to Einstein. And while three men happen to live in this Moishe House, it is not a men’s-only project.

The Oakland, Calif.-based Moishe House pays for programming and rent subsidies with a formula that varies among the 21 such houses it maintains across the country and on four continents. Each Moishe House receives $250-$500 per month for programming; rent subsidies range from 30 to 75 percent (capping at $2,500 per month). The tenants are young Jews who are obligated to hold Jewish-related events each month in exchange for their reduced rents. The events are designed to offer a variety of draws, from Torah study to football games. Every house must check in during a monthly conference call with Moishe House staff in California, upload their calendars and pictures to the organization’s Web site, blog, and fill out some basic information about each event.

House designs vary from place to place; there is no specific blueprint. They can be actual houses, or, as in Hoboken, an apartment on the town’s main drag, Washington Street. Residents set the decor, the programming agenda, the specific kashrut observance, and the standards for Shabbat.

Beyond that, it’s anything goes. In addition to just hanging out, residents take part in weekly poker games, movie nights, and Friday night dinners. Most of the activities take place at Moishe House, although there might be excursions, say, to a football stadium or an ice skating rink. In Hoboken, about 15 people attend any given event, according to Einstein. They find out about the goings-on mostly through word of mouth, he said. Participants need not be Jewish, but mostly, he said, they are.

As Einstein puts it, “It’s a free space to be Jewish.”

The Moishe House concept was launched in December 2005 and was named for funder Morris “Moishe” Bear Squires, a Santa Barbara, Calif., psychiatrist and philanthropist. The project is coordinated by the Forest Foundation in California.

Known for his eccentric style, Squires is basically giving young Jews the money and space to set their own agendas in creating a Jewish community.

“How do you make the world a better place? The answers have to be from a new perspective, not encumbered by getting into business,” he said from the Forest Foundation office in California. These kids “don’t owe anybody anything. They’re free agents and they’re flying, looking for the right place. And it’s not only them, but their five best friends who are equal to them or better. It’s from their conversations – though it looks like they’re drinking beer and watching football – that they do it.” It happens, Squires said, through “their daydreaming about where could we go, what could we become, who am I?”

Exploring identity

Einstein (the radical secularist who happens to work for NCSY, the Orthodox youth organization) and Eugene Grudnikov (the Chabad enthusiast, medical student, and self-appointed house “rebbe”) started the house in Hoboken in January 2007. Friends and recent graduates of Rutgers University, they were missing their involvement in organized Jewish activities.

“I wanted to continue doing Jewish stuff [after college], but I didn’t want to go to shul,” said Einstein.

“Moishe House is like a logical continuation in terms of getting together with other Jews and making a community,” said Grudnikov.

That’s exactly the idea, according to Forest Foundation executive director David Cygielman.

Moishe House is part of a recent trend of independent projects attempting to engage the hard-to-reach post-college Jew through cultural programs. The efforts range from Reboot.com, a Web-based social forum; to Boston’s Riverway Project, a social action cooperative; to Makor, the performance venue in New York City that was eventually absorbed by the 92nd Street Y.

Cygielman said the Moishe House model is taking off, not only in the number of sites opening, but also in the amount of programming and the people it is attracting.

“Our original goal was to have the houses average four programs a month with 50 or more people coming each month. We are now averaging seven programs a month with 150 people coming,” said Cygielman in an e-mail.

But even the few Moishe House requirements are beginning to take their toll on Grudnikov, a third-year medical student, who has time for little beyond his studies. He said he plans to move back to his parents’ Elizabeth home, but will continue to hang out when he can at Moishe House.

Einstein and the third apartment mate, David Rosen, the Conservative Jew, already have a candidate to fill the slot. Mark Fiedler, a bartender at a restaurant, said he didn’t grow up with Judaism and wants to spend some time exploring his Jewish identity.

And what happens when these 20-somethings age out of Moishe House?

“Our hope is that existing programs and institutions will pick them up,” said Cygielman. “There are many organizations focusing on Jews in high school and college, as well as in their 30s and families. Moishe House is focused on the gap years in between.”

In the meantime, there are conversations to be had about what it means to be Jewish, which movies to watch, and what to fill the hookahs with.

As Einstein pulled the burgers out of the oven, the group shifted from the television to the counter, and the cigar smoke continued to waft around the room.

Local stories posted courtesy of the New Jersey Jewish News