When Avi, 21, stands before his synagogue in Ra’anana, Israel, this Friday night to share the story of his experience converting to Judaism, he’ll represent more than his personal story. A new member of Kehilat Netivot, Avi recently completed his service in the IDF’s Givati Brigade, including time in Gaza, and just three weeks ago he finalized his conversion through the army’s Nativ program. (Israeli military policy bars combat soldiers from being identified by their full name to prevent them from being prosecuted if they travel abroad.)

Born to a Jewish father and Christian mother, he made aliyah to Israel with his parents when he was 4 and grew up immersed in Israeli life — celebrating his bar mitzvah in a Reform synagogue and living like any other Israeli teen. 

Though he converted through the army, Avi’s talk is part of an ongoing effort launched by Rabbi Seth Farber, founder of Itim and the rabbi of Kehilat Netivot, to raise awareness around the biblical commandment to love the convert — the most frequently repeated mitzvah in the Torah, appearing 36 times. Five years ago, Itim launched Shabbat v’Ahavtem — referring to the commandment, v’ahavtem et haGer (“And you shall love the convert) — encouraging rabbis and synagogues to speaking about this mitzvah and spotlighting community members who have converted on the Shabbat before Shavuot, when Jews traditionally read the Book of Ruth, which includes the first instance of conversion to Judaism by the titular heroine.

Amid high interfaith marriage rates in the Diaspora, embracing and welcoming converts is essential for fostering inclusivity in Jewish communities, Farber said, emphasizing the need to recognize converts’ identities and experiences as equally meaningful as those born into the faith. In Israel, he noted, the issue has gained urgency since Oct. 7, 2023, as many individuals not considered halachically Jewish have been serving in the Israel Defense Forces — and, in some cases, dying in war.

Avi, whose paternal grandfather is a Holocaust survivor, said his conversion process allowed him to question and learn about Judaism, and he decided to go through it because he wanted to avoid possible complications later when he marries. His parents are respectful of his choice, and his mother follows the rule of kashrut when she cooks for him, he said.

“It’s a mitzvah, at the end of the day, to love the convert,” Avi said. “It’s not a simple process, and I’m willing to come and explain so that people will really get to know each other.”

This year, some 170 mostly Orthodox communities in Israel and abroad — representing an estimated 50,000 families — are participating in the initiative, with some non-Orthodox congregations joining as well, Farber said. Shabbat V’Ahavtem is being co-sponsored this year by Beit Hillel and the Union of Synagogues and Communities in Israel.

“I think that often people tend to overlook [the mitzvah] as a serious thing, even though it cuts to the very core of Jewish tradition,” Farber said. “We have a great responsibility as Jews to remember our history and to remember what it’s like to be living in a place where we’re not fully welcome. The Bible says multiple times — 36 times — that we have a great responsibility towards converts because we know what it’s like.”

According to the Central Bureau of Statistics in Israel, there are currently 554,000 — or almost 7% of the Jewish population of Israel — who are listed as having “no religion” despite having made aliyah based on Jewish ancestry as stipulated under the Law of Return, he said. Many of them have strong cultural and traditional connections to their Jewish identities, even if they are not formally recognized by Israeli religious authorities, he said. 

“It’s taking one Shabbat a year and saying, ‘Yes, this is part of our tradition, this is important,’” said Farber. “We’ve tried to move the needle, but it’s not where it should be.” 

Farber said he began the conversion program at Itim to create a pathway for this segment of Israeli society to formally convert and fully participate in Jewish life as he saw the Israeli Chief Rabbinate’s conversion program converting less than 2,000 people a year on a budget of NIS 146 million ($41.8 million). State conversions in Israel have over the years also become wrapped up in political fights, including now, further diminishing trust in the system. Hundreds of people who have completed the religious process have not had their conversions recognized by the state — keeping them from being able to get married, among other things — because of an ongoing fight within the coalition over the appointment of a new head of the Religious Services Ministry’s Conversion Authority. 

“You have an enormous population of Jews, people with Jewish ancestry, who are part of the fabric of the Jewish people, but they aren’t able to have, at least in the contemporary state of Israel, full rights as Jews,” said Farber. “We have a moral obligation [to these] people we brought here and [to say] ‘We want you to be full members of the state of Israel.’ Not because we’re missionaries. I don’t think that anybody who doesn’t want to convert should convert, but I think people who want to convert and be fully part of their community should be able to.”

Rabbi Adam Scheier of Congregation Shaar Hashomayim in Montreal noted that since Oct. 7, 2023, many people who were contemplating converting to Judaism have accelerated their decision-making process in response to the rising antisemitism.

“Having seen a society so divided and, having seen so much hatred and antisemitism in society, they realize that now is the time to act,” said Scheier, whose synagogue has already participated before. “I think certainly in our community, there’s been a wonderful embrace because it’s very clear the positive effect that converts have had on our community. This is a value that we’ve been speaking about and really celebrating for many, many years.”

Almost 20% of his congregation are converts, he added.

While welcoming an outsider does not come naturally to close-knit communities, in fact it speaks to the essence of what it means to have a close-knit community, he said.

“When you build a community of closeness, there’s a natural resistance to letting someone from the outside in because it in many ways forces you to reconfigure what your definition of community is,” said Scheier. “Yet this is emphasized [in the Bible] because that’s exactly what our mandate is: to both build a close-knit community and at the same time always keep doors open and make sure that we’re welcoming to those who come in.”