Recently, a rare occurrence took place at the Laugh Factory Comedy Club in Reno, Nevada.听 I was booked alongside Avi Liberman and Howard Nave 鈥� a three-man lineup of funny Jews. In the late 1960s and 鈥�70s, this was anything but rare. Time Magazine once estimated that 80% of stand-up comics back then were 91传媒. Today, that number is down to maybe 30鈥�40% 鈥� but still well above the 2鈥�3% of Jews in the general U.S. population.

One significant difference I鈥檝e noticed, though, is that 91传媒 comics of that earlier era often discussed being 91传媒 on stage. Today, that鈥檚 a rarity. Most of the old guard were secular, but they still seemed to know more about being 91传媒 than many of today鈥檚 comics.听

Today, comedians born in the U.S. 鈥� or who come from India, Russia or Muslim countries 鈥� often discuss their cultural backgrounds and what it’s like living in America. Black comics, Asian comics and LGBTQ+ comics share their experiences openly. But unless the comics are from Israel and have an accent, most 91传媒 American comics stay quiet about being 91传媒.

If the silence is about fitting in, we don鈥檛 need to go back far to see where fitting in got us. Europe didn鈥檛 exactly roll out the welcome mat when we attempted to fit in. And look what’s happening today at colleges like Columbia and Harvard 鈥� schools where many Jews try to blend in, only to find out they never really will.

So off I went to Reno for six shows with Howard and Avi. The day before Avi arrived, he had already prepared his chicken for Shabbos. After I got there, we walked to a nearby supermarket to pick up a few remaining supplies. That鈥檚 when Avi asked if I wanted to walk to Chabad on Shabbat morning. 鈥淲e can have lunch with the rabbi and his family,鈥� he said.

鈥淗ow far is it?鈥� I asked.

鈥淎bout an hour each way.鈥�

Now, it was in the mid-90s in Reno, and most of the walk would be in direct sunlight. I declined faster than if he鈥檇 asked to borrow 10 grand until he got his memory back. I had no interest in ending up like one of those desert carcasses with the bones picked clean. I said, 鈥淪ince God is everywhere, I鈥檒l see him in the casino.鈥�

I asked if he was at least going to carry water. 鈥淐an鈥檛,鈥� he said. 鈥淭here鈥檚 no eruv.鈥�

That night, I asked how the walk went.

He said one word: 鈥淏rutal.鈥�

Later that night, thanks to Avi, I found that even a comedy club can become a holy place. On Saturday night, after Shabbos, Avi asked if I wanted to do Havdalah at the club. I said yes. We invited Howard, and he agreed, too.

While Avi went to retrieve his Havdalah kit, I was approached by an elderly woman using a walker. (No, I didn鈥檛 ask her out 鈥� I鈥檓 married.) She came over to say how much she鈥檇 enjoyed the show. Her speech was a little slurred, like someone who might鈥檝e had a stroke. Then I noticed she was wearing a kippah.

鈥淲hat鈥檚 with the kippah?鈥� I asked.

鈥淚 always wear it,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 wear it everywhere I go.鈥�

She was a proud Jew.

Then I heard a voice 鈥� God鈥檚, I鈥檓 pretty sure 鈥� telling me to invite her to the front of the stage for Havdalah. The moment I suggested it she鈥� excuse the expression 鈥� lit up like a Christmas tree. She called over her non-91传媒 caretaker and another man who was 91传媒. When she told him about Havdalah, he lit up too.

Standing at the front of the stage, we handed her the candle to hold. When Avi took out a little bottle of grape juice and began pouring, the man asked, 鈥淚s that just grape juice? I don鈥檛 drink.鈥�

鈥淵ou sober?鈥� I asked.

鈥淵eah, 26 years.鈥�

鈥淔orty for me,鈥� I told him.

After Havdalah, the woman said how meaningful it was to her, and the man agreed. 鈥淭his made the trip extra special,鈥� they said. We all hugged goodbye. I later wondered if, when they went back to gamble, God had a little extra mercy on them.听

Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the “We Think It鈥檚 Funny” podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”