WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. — His act has been likened to a "Saturday Night Live" skit: Picture a Hasidic Jew, garbed in traditional black attire, jumping around on a concert stage as if he's some strange amalgam of Mick Jagger, Little Richard and your latest rap- and reggae-influenced rock star.
In this case, he is your latest rock star: Meet Matisyahu, an Orthodox Jew whose recent single, "King Without a Crown," has cracked the upper echelons of Billboard magazine's "Hot 100" pop chart.
But Matisyahu is hardly an isolated phenomenon.
Take a look at pop culture these days and "hipster Judaism," as the phenomenon has been dubbed, is just about everywhere.
It's on television: Consider the new show coming to cable's Learning Channel: "Shalom in the Home," starring Shmuley Boteach, an Orthodox rabbi who counsels troubled families. Think Dr. Phil with a Yiddish accent.
It's in the bookstore: Consider two popular tomes from last year — Abigail Pogrebin's "Stars of David," a look at Jewish actors, writers, politicians and other celebrities, from Sarah Jessica Parker to Larry King, and "Bar Mitzvah Disco," a celebration of the Jewish rite of passage in all its campy excessiveness.
It's at the clothing store: Consider the cleverly designed T-shirts that declare "Moses is my homeboy" or that ask, "Who's your rabbi?" Even the trendy clothier Urban Outfitters has gotten into the act with its "Everyone Loves a Jewish Girl" tees.
And it's at the record store — beyond Matisyahu, that is: Consider the Jewish-oriented label JDub Records, which not only put Matisyahu on the map but also has a roster that includes the LeeVees, the band behind the recent Hanukkah Rocks album.
In many ways, this marriage of Judaism and pop culture has been set in motion for at least a decade. In some cases, it came from within the Jewish community: When Adam Sandler introduced his now classic "Hanukkah Song," a paean to all things (and all people) Jewish, on "Saturday Night Live" in 1994 — sample lyric: "David Lee Roth lights the menorah / So do James Caan, Kirk Douglas and the late Dinah Shore-ah" — he created a kind of template.
But you can't overlook the role of non-Jews in bringing Judaism to the mainstream. Madonna led the way with her embrace of Kaballah, a form of Jewish mysticism. But she's since been joined by everyone from Demi Moore to Paris Hilton. Britney Spears even has Hebrew letters tattooed on the back of her neck.
Ultimately, however, the boom in hipster Judaism speaks to the mind-set of Jews in a post-assimilation era. For much of the 20th century, Jews strived to fit into a non-Jewish world, keeping their faith and ethnicity a private matter. Jews in Hollywood, for example, routinely changed their names: Kirk Douglas was formerly known as Issur Danielovich Demsky.
But there comes a point when the pendulum must swing the other way. Now that Jews have found a level of acceptance in an increasingly multicultural American society, it's OK for them to express, well, their Jewishness.
And increasingly, the expression takes on a certain hipster tone in keeping with the mind-set of contemporary culture.
"I'd say making fun of things is what my generation does. ... We need a hobby, so it's mockery," says Rob Tannenbaum, music editor of Blender magazine and a leader of the hipster Judaism movement in his role as a member of the comedic musical duo What I Like About Jew and as a creator of the VH1 special, "So Jewtastic," which aired the end of last year.
The mockery speaks to the very secular aspect of this trend: Judaism may be a religion, but it's also a culture. And while American Jews have increasingly felt a certain distance when it comes to matters of faith they still want a connection of some sort.
And it's why some Jewish philanthropic organizations have eagerly funded this hipster version of outreach.
"Young people will go to a concert before they'll go to a synagogue," says Felicia Herman, executive director of the Natan Fund, which has given out nearly $2 million to about 30 non-mainstream Jewish organizations, including JDub Records and Heeb magazine.
Which is not to say that religion doesn't play a role in all of this.
Even traditional-minded Jewish leaders will look past the more controversial aspects of the movement — Heeb magazine, for example, takes its name from a pejorative term for Jews, albeit in an effort to reclaim it as a positive — and will see the overall effort as a bridge to building the faith.
"I think it's a great doorway," says Rabbi Moshe Scheiner of Palm Beach Orthodox Synagogue.
And the significance of Matisyahu can't be underestimated. He may be a bona-fide pop star who sings in a patois that's reminiscent of Bob Marley, but he's also a man of faith who embraced Orthodoxy after growing up in a mostly secular suburban Jewish household.
Matisyahu won't perform on the Sabbath in keeping with the dictates of Jewish law (his concert won't start until 9 p.m. Saturday). He requires that kosher food be made available at his shows. And he speaks of his religious fervor in nearly every verse of his lyrics. To quote "King Without a Crown": "I sing to my God songs of love and healing."
The message is one that seems to speak to the times, whether you're a Jew who's suddenly rediscovered the faith or whether you're an outsider a la Madonna. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who first found pop-culture fame as the author of "Kosher Sex," argues that Judaism has become hip for an altogether different reason than the sardonic secularism would suggest. Rather, it's the faith itself, which places an earthly emphasis on the here and now and "mastering your life," that's winning fans.
In that sense, Boteach sees parallels with how spiritual seekers of a previous generation — the Baby Boomers — turned to Eastern religion. (Remember the Beatles traveling to India?)
Judaism is "the Buddhism of our times," says Boteach.
There's also a case to be made that Judaism has always taken inspiration from contemporary society. Florida Atlantic University Judaic scholar Dr. Frederick Greenspahn points to the fact that one Jewish prayer is based on a melody from a centuries-old German beer-drinking song. J.J. Goldberg, editor of the weekly Jewish Forward publication, says the tradition goes back further.
"Jews have been drawing from the popular culture around them since Roman times," he says.
And what's happening today with Judaism is perhaps no different from what has already happened with Christianity: Long before there was Matisyahu, there was the rise of Christian rock. If anything, some might argue that Jews are borrowing from the same playbook, finding ways to make their faith and culture relevant.
But what if the plan backfires?
Despite all the hoopla, hipster Judaism may do little in terms of bolstering synagogue attendance — or even Jewish identity. In Abigail Pogrebin's "Stars of David book, she gives voice to such concern through Leon Wieseltier, the fiction editor of The New Republic and an outspoken crusader for what he calls Jewish "competence."
"He derides a kind of Jewish identity that might be described as Judaism Lite. ... In other words, Jews who 'feel' Jewish because of a tune they remember, a cheese blintz or a visit to shul twice a year," Pogrebin writes.
But it's possible, argues J.J. Goldberg, that hipster Judaism may be the beginning of an altogether new way of expressing Judaism — one that allows for secular and religious modes alike.
Just ask Sidney Lampert, a Jewish teen who can't get enough of all things Jewish, from her participation in religious studies at Palm Beach Orthodox Synagogue to her involvement in her school's Jewish student union. Oh, and don't forget the "Everyone Loves a Jewish Girl" T-shirt she wears.
"I'm proud to be Jewish. I really am," she says.