I was struck by the warmth, joy, and calm of their Shabbat table

Paul Greenberg, as told to Shlomo Horwitz

Imoved to Los Angeles in 1991, not knowing a soul, determined to make it big in Hollywood. The only people I met were through work or at parties. I quickly learned that relationships often felt shallow and transactional; unless you could help someone advance their career, they weren’t interested. Everyone seemed to be racing against the clock, desperate to “make it” in a limited window of time, and I struggled with the transient, often ruthless nature of the culture.

About a year in, I was working as a location assistant on a Kellogg’s Corn Flakes commercial. The production company needed me to approach the Orthodox Jewish residents of Hancock Park to get their approval to film on their street that Shabbos. Armed with a Star of David necklace and an envelope containing $10,000 in cash for bribes, I went door-to-door asking for signatures. One woman said her husband would want to hear more about the project before agreeing to let us film, and she invited me to come back later. When I did, her husband, Aaron Dov, agreed to sign — but only on condition that I join them for Shabbat lunch the following week. It was an unusual request, but I accepted.

That meal changed everything. I was struck by the warmth, joy, and calm of their Shabbat table. Their children were polite and well-adjusted, and the atmosphere was unlike anything I’d experienced in L.A. Over time, I started attending more meals, classes, and events in the Hancock Park community, and slowly, I began reconnecting with my Jewish roots.

About a year and a half later, having just finished directing a film, I was on a high in my career and feeling a spiritual awakening. I attended a retreat in Connecticut designed to let participants ask all their questions about Judaism, and at the retreat, I decided to begin keeping Shabbat and putting on tefillin daily.

While I was there, a famous actor reached out. She said she loved a character we’d created in our film so much, she wanted to use it as her charity camp’s mascot, and she invited me to a star-studded gala, where I’d sit at the head table with her and other Hollywood elites.

This could be my big break, I thought. I was thrilled.

But when the date was finalized, I felt an icy chill crawling up my spine. It was scheduled for Friday night. My first Shabbat back home.

Conflicted, I sought advice from Aaron Dov, who posed a simple but profound question: “Do you want to be someone who lives by ideals or someone who gets by on loopholes?”

That crystallized everything for me. It was the hardest decision I’d ever made, but I chose to stay true to my commitment. I declined the invitation.

Shabbat passed agonizingly slowly as I imagined what I might be missing, and the moment it ended, I called a friend who’d attended the event.

“How was it? Who was there?” I asked breathlessly.

“It was canceled,” I was told. “Bomb threat.”

If G-d wants to give me an opportunity, I realized with startling clarity, it wouldn’t come at the expense of my values. This made keeping Shabbat so much easier going forward.

Over the next two years, I immersed myself in the community and attending Torah classes. Curious if Aaron Dov’s Shabbat table was unique, I made it a point to visit more than 100 different families for Shabbat and holiday meals. Almost all were warm, well-adjusted, and living a way of life that was a direct reflection of deeply rooted values and traditions, and this exploration culminated in my decision to go to Israel and learn in yeshivah.

The journey that began with a knock on a stranger’s door led me to a life of meaning, connection, and authenticity. Aaron Dov’s understanding that his responsibility didn’t end with walking me to the door after the meal, and his continued investment in my growth, are what ultimately inspired me to embrace a frum life.

Today, my wife and I do our best to give back to the Jewish community in Los Angeles, where we raised our family to follow in Hashem’s ways. Indeed, that Shabbat gala was my big break. —

Shlomo Horwitz is the author of Snapshots of the Divine (Adir Press/Feldheim 2024) and the founding director of Jewish Crossroads, an educational theater project providing creative Torah programming.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1060)