As Shabbat morning services begin, some rabbis face synagogues with more empty seats than people, and wonder where their congregants are.

Not me. I know where the Jews are. They’re skiing. And I understand why.

We live in a busy world, with many demands on our time. Most of us who live here in Colorado have chosen to do so because outdoor activities are a priority in our lives. When time is limited and we must choose between the outdoors and Judaism, Judaism loses out time and time again.

I’m not criticizing this choice- I understand it. Especially in the winter, when days are short and powder days are few and far between.

So why services on skis? Because if many of us spend our Saturdays skiing, then Adventure Rabbi will bring Shabbat to the slopes. Many of us who will not give up a whole day for synagogue, are willing to give up 20 minutes to let a little Judaism into our day.

About 20-30 people join us for services. It seems to make the day just a little more special. The service is long enough for a reminder that it really is Shabbat, yet short enough so we aren’t missing out on many turns. As one participant said “If I’m not ready for a 20-minute break by 12:30, I haven’t been skiing hard enough!”

So why services on skis? Service on skis are a chance to meet other Jews, make friends, and most importantly to celebrate being Jewish in a way that works with our active lifestyles. Services on skis are a way to be who we are – Jewish outdoor athletes -- without giving up either one.

Am I passionate about skiing? You could say that.

This is my 36th season on skis. When I was two, I snuck out of the nursery at Jimminy Peak ski area. My panicked parents finally found me skiing down the bunny hill on some skis I had convinced an older kid to let me use, while he contentedly ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Fig Newtons in the lodge.

But can skiing be spiritual?

Before I went to rabbinic school, I skied full-time for seven years. (Don’t ask my parents what they thought about this fine use of my Ivy League diploma.) Those seven years were some of the most spiritually profound years of my life. My intense ability to concentrate on the present -- this run, this turn, the bend of this knee -- came so naturally then. Now I have to work for that level of focus.

The connection to That Which is Greater Than Oneself still comes easily as I stand on a ridge top, looking out at craggy snow covered peaks, birds soaring on thermals, wind playing in the trees. I am so clearly part of something larger than myself. Often that clarity is harder to find when I am inside, book in hand, even in the most inspirational service.

Other times skiing is not a spiritual pursuit. It’s rip-roaring fun, chasing a line of bumps, racing with friends and laughing out loud at the realization that anything can be this much fun. The miraculous discovery that my body can move, bend and fly --unbridled joy!

Celebration and joy, these too are vital parts of our spiritual development.

Sometimes a day of skiing is a rich spiritual experience. Sometimes it’s just a perma-grin day with a lot of fun. Either way, as long as there are Jews skiing on Saturday, I hope there will be services on skis for us to attend.