CBI Blogs

Over the next several weeks, we are proud to highlight the voices of our CBI staff team through a series of blogs called, "Meet the Mishpacha (family)." Enjoy learning a little more about our incredible team!

Shalom CBI community,  

I want to share something a little quirky - a homemade 'converter box' I built to solve a very specific tech problem. But really, it's about something deeper: how creativity, community, and Judaism all come together behind the scenes here at CBI. 

The idea of 'cafeteria Judaism', where people choose the rituals and practices that are most meaningful to them, has always resonated with me. As Reform Jews, we often pick and choose which traditions and commandments to follow. Some may keep kosher and wear a kippah every day. Others might wear tzitzit but not keep kosher. And some like me, wear a tech-inspired kippah while running tech on Shabbat. Savannah, my wife and President of the CBI Sisterhood, found a fabric print with analog audio components. Another CBI member, Lu, then made the kippah (and some matching throw pillows for the tech booth). Sometimes, Jewish identity shows up in non-traditional places like a high-quality livestream feed or a well-routed HDMI cable.  

I’ve often been told I’m creative. Especially in the decade in which I was a preschool teacher, but I never really believed it. I wasn’t artistic in the traditional sense. I didn’t paint or draw. However, I’ve come to realize creativity doesn’t just belong to the arts. It shows up in problem-solving, system design, and things like this: a cheap PC case filled with video converters, a four-input HDMI matrix, an infrared blaster to control it all, and a perfectly labeled grid of inputs and outputs. It’s what lets the entire video system talk to itself (and to me) during every service and program.  

It might not sound glamorous, but that little box is the beating heart of our Shabbat livestream. Without it, tens of thousands of dollars of video equipment would show black screens. This idea didn’t come from a manual, a kit, or even a Reddit post. It came from seeing what we needed, figuring out what we had, and building a bridge between the two.  

The hardware inside that box matters, but so does the thought behind it. Together, they allow me to do the work of three, or maybe four, people every Friday and Saturday: managing cameras, switching video feeds, projecting slides, monitoring audio in Smith and online, coordinating livestreams, and often troubleshooting in real-time. It’s a one-person production studio built on purpose and gaffer tape. (Well, not literally... mostly Velcro straps.)  

And yes, there’s a certain nerdy joy in all of this. In merging Judaism and tech. In 3D-printing an HDMI “Ten Commandments” logo. In turning something as utilitarian as a box of signal converters into something that feels almost sacred.  

But the real meaning is deeper.  

At the end of the day, I could be doing this kind of work for corporate clients or big productions. But I do it here, for my community. Because CBI stands on three pillars: B’tzelem Elohim, Kehillah Kedoshah, and Tikkun Olam. I feel like I’m on the front lines of the second one, making sure our holy community is open even when people don’t have the capacity to join us in-person.  

This box, this system, lets people connect, even if they can’t physically be here. It means grandparents can join a B’nei Mitzvah from halfway across the country. It means someone home sick can hear Mi Shebeirach when they need it most. It means my mom in Denver can watch every single Friday night.  

Tech isn’t an add-on here. It’s a lifeline.  

At CBI, we don’t just stream services. We create sacred moments that connect us across space and circumstance. Sometimes, all it takes is a few HDMI cables, a pile of converters, and a little holy ingenuity.  

So, here’s my invitation: the next time you tune in, look beyond the screen. Know there’s someone behind the camera who cares. Not just about pixels and presets, but about you being part of this experience, wherever you are.  

That converter box might just look like tech. But to me, it's a love letter to what we stand for: an inclusive, creative, connected Jewish home. 
 

Shabbat Shalom,  

Aaron  

Technology Coordinator (aka, proud cafeteria Jew)