By GARY STERN
THE JOURNAL NEWS 
(Original publication: Feb. 15, 2002) 

Gary Chattman is the suburban king of bar mitzvah schtick, what Henny Youngman might have been if he had channeled his one-liners into teaching Hebrew prayers instead of begging someone to take his wife. 

Armed with a Casio keyboard, a mini Torah and a veteran teacher's talent, Chattman does whatever it takes to make Nintendo-powered Jewish children interested in being Jewish children. 

He zips to two dozen Westchester and Rockland homes every week with questions for "Jewish Jeopardy" and "Who Wants to be a Jewish Millionaire." And he gets his reward — youngsters who might otherwise have little connection to Judaism greet him like a wacky but wise uncle, not a second-career tutor with 147 bar and bat mitzvahs under his belt. 

"I tell the kids I have an escape clause: 'If you don't like me, I'll leave,' " Chattman said from his Yonkers apartment. "It's never happened. At temple, many kids are forced to learn. When they're adults, they never want to go back." 

Chattman, 54, has a pipeline to the group that institutional Judaism craves the most and understands the least: the unaffiliated. These are Jews who stopped going to synagogue or never went, who pulled their children out of synagogue-run Hebrew schools or never sent them, or who don't belong to Jewish civic groups. 

Judaism's strays present a major challenge to organized Jewry because they are not a fringe group. Major studies show that 47 percent to 68 percent of American Jews do not belong to synagogues. 

"We've lost so many Jews who can barely be considered part of the Jewish community," said Rabbi Ephraim Buchwald of the National Jewish Outreach Program. "It is possible to reach the unaffiliated. But it is very, very hard." 

Still, there is a reason for Chattman's hectic schedule, which grows through word of mouth. He teaches about 50 children a week, some in groups, and recently started passing work to his future son-in-law, Jake Luxemburg, who has eight students of his own. 

Even among Jews who left synagogue because they found it unfulfilling, or those who never joined because of their own Hebrew school memories, there is often a yearning to pass Jewish identity to their children. While each of Chattman and Luxemburg's families has its own story, most share a love of Judaism but a disinterest in, or even aversion to, synagogue. 

"For most of these kids, a bar or bat mitzvah wouldn't happen without us," said Luxemburg, 25, of Elmsford. "Many would have no sense of Jewish identity." 

The Reback family, of the Edgemont section of Greenburgh, tried the traditional route. They sent the oldest of their five children, Aaron, to a temple Hebrew school, but found the experience to be uninspirational. 

"It was a like a bar mitzvah factory, one kid in, one kid out," said Miriam Reback, Aaron's mother. 

The Rebacks turned to Chattman, who prepared their second and third sons, Daniel, 14, and Alexander, 13, for their bar mitzvahs. Now Chattman is working with the youngest Rebacks — Jonathan, 10, and Sarah, 7. 

Chattman opened one lesson by telling Jonathan, "You are the smartest one in the family, the most insightful," while looking at Sarah and emphatically shaking his head "no." Then he covertly covered a lot of Jewish ground in an hour. 

"He teaches you all the important stuff, all the prayers, but it's not boring," Daniel said. 

Despite his routine, Chattman makes sure his students learn. He has been tutoring since 1982, but only did it as a side job until 1999, when he retired from 30 years of teaching in Bronx high schools. 

He teaches his students Jewish history and culture, and to read and understand Hebrew. When a student is nearing bar or bat mitzvah age —13 for boys and 12 or 13 for girls — Chattman, the student and family design the ceremony. The student will lead the service. There is no rabbi present. 

"At my son's bar mitzvah, even among the more conservative Jews, the doubting types, everyone was impressed with how traditional it was, how personal," said Mary Jane Fales of Nyack, whose 16-year-old son, Seth, was taught by Chattman. 

You could see Chattman's appeal in the eyes of 10-year-olds Rachel Tamarin and Tobah Aukland at a lesson in Tarrytown. They couldn't wait to play Simon Says in Hebrew and to learn about the Holocaust by reading a Chattman-penned play. 

"We tried a Hebrew school, but the kids weren't looking forward to it," said Rachel's mother, Sharon Hammer. "I had the Hebrew school experience myself and, while there were some good parts to it, we wanted the kids to have a really good experience." 

Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman of Rye said synagogues can no longer treat all families the same. Hoffman is the founder of Synagogue 2000, a program helping synagogues nationwide, including 22 in Westchester, to present a more welcoming face to Jews of all types. 

"There was a standard Jewish family, Ozzie and Harriet Cohen," Hoffman said. "It is no longer true, and we need to make the synagogue a place more people can call home." 

Chattman, meanwhile, will keep his show on the road, teaching and trading one-liners with students like Tristan Schaffer-Goldman, 12, of Edgemont. 

During one lesson, Chattman ribbed Tristan about his new girlfriend ("I knew you when you were unappealing to women.") and Tristan ridiculed Chattman's singing voice. Only when Tristan sang the Torah portion for his June 22 bar mitzvah did the jokes stop. 

"I have this hope," said Tristan's father, Robin Schaffer, "that Gary has given Tristan a fondness for Judaism that he might someday give his children. It is a shame that so many kids, after their bar mitzvah, just don't have that."