Gone are the days when kiruv professionals could pick baalei teshuvah like ripe, red apples. Today’s young Jews are less introspective, more technology obsessed, and less identified with Israel than ever before. Enter the determined mekarev, studied at his art, funded to the brim. But are the students listening?

It was Dovid’s first day on the job. The 25-year-old father of one had spent the previous year immersed in kiruv training courses and had conducted a personal study of every lecture by Rabbi Dovid Gottlieb and every book by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan he could find. He wanted to be ready for all the so-called “normal” kiruv questions that students would throw at him — the challenges to the Torah’s account of creation or attempts to disprove Torah by way of evolution.

As he stood in front of the small crowd of college students at the University of Kansas, he enthusiastically recited all the reasons why the Torah must be of Divine origin, exactly as he had practiced the night before. He even remembered a favorite joke. “I have a great joke about evolution. Unfortunately, it would take a billion years to explain…” But on this day, the joke would fall flat. One person cracked a half-smile, another let out a barely masked yawn. Whoa, tough audience, he thought to himself.

In fact, for the entire 45 minutes of his presentation, Dovid did not connect with one pair of eyes for more than a minute. Heads stayed down, a few souls stared out of the window, others chatted with a neighbor. A young man, probably around 19 and wearing a Kansas City Royals hat, sat in front, his fingers busily pressing and sliding the buttons on his cell phone. In the third row sat Mr. Textbook, engrossed in schoolwork.

Finally, reaching the end of his talk and reluctantly accepting defeat, Dovid tepidly asked his audience if there were any questions. No one raised a hand.

Has Torah been trumped by Twitter?

Immersion in technology is just one reason, among many, that professionals who work in the kiruv industry report a dramatic change in the business of invigorating Jewish souls. But there are other reasons for this sea change, including a focus on careerism, weak links to traditional Judaism and Israel, and broken bonds that result from intermarriage.

According to a recent article in Klal Perspectives, one leading authority claims that half as many young Americans today become baalei teshuvah as compared to ten years ago. Another professional puts it more starkly: The BT movement is drying up.

All this comes at a time when kiruv budgets are at their highest ever. One kiruv activist who wished to remain anonymous estimates the American kiruv budget at over $30 million per year, close to eight times the amount it was in 2000.

At a time when national studies forecast the rapid decline of non-Orthodox American Jewry, the stakes couldn’t be higher. As Conservative Judaism shrivels, Reform Judaism moves farther from its source, and secularism distances youth from authentic religious experiences, there are more and more Jews simply willing to leave their spirituality and Judaism at the door. It’s into this challenging environment that a kiruv rabbi ventures, smile at the ready, well-versed arguments in pocket. But, in the end, his efforts might not be enough.

Disappearing Jews

Not more than 20 years ago, a “Rosenberg” was probably Jewish. Same with Klein, Cohen, and Greenberg. If an Orthodox rabbi was approached by someone with the last name of O’Reilly or Jackson, most likely the fellow was looking to convert. But nowadays, says Julie Rupp, a JAM (Jewish Awareness Movement) kiruv rebbetzin, when she meets a student with a Jewish last name, she has even more questions to ask about the student’s background.

Why? Because chances are the father is Jewish, and the mother is not. Yet, when she meets an “Amy Donovan” who’s says she’s Jewish, it’s likely Amy is a halachic member of the tribe. Or, as Rabbi Dr. Dovid Refson, dean of Neve Yerushalayim, and phrase it, “The Yankee Doodle BT is fast disappearing.” This name confusion has also been observed by Rabbi Shalom Garfinkel, director of JET YP (Jewish Education Team – Young Professionals), a kiruv organization serving the Chicago area. Rabbi Naftali Reich of Ohr Somayach in Monsey concurs.

A recent study from Pew Research Center, “A Portrait of Jewish Americans,” shows that the intermarriage rate among non-Orthodox Jews has skyrocketed to 71.5 percent. That’s up from 55 percent in the late 1990s. As the intermarriage rates continue to rise, the outlook for non-Orthodox American Jewry looks grim. Or, as Rabbi Steven Weil, senior managing director of the Orthodox Union, phrased it at a recent webcast hosted by the OU: “If we don’t spend a large percentage of our lives engaging and opening ourselves up to the majority of American Jews who are unaffiliated, we’re going to relive the experience of losing the Ten Tribes all over again.”