Making Names

Rabbi Daniel A. Septimus

Then chief executive officer of Shalom Austin. Now executive director of the Center for Jewish Peoplehood, JCC Association of North America.

Rabbi Daniel A. Septimus, chief executive officer of Shalom Austin for a decade, in conversation with DSE Media for the Making Names interview series in Austin, Texas. He talks about serving a Jewish community that now stretches from San Marcos in the south to Sun City and Georgetown in the north, why he would tell his first-day self to be patient, the difference between outreach and engagement, designing the Dell Jewish Community Campus so that people stop and talk to each other, multi-generational programming that puts early childhood students in the same building as a sixty-five and better population, the forty million dollar capital campaign that expanded the campus, and why he told a room of major donors that good philanthropy is about relationships rather than money or buildings. He is a rabbi, a fifth-generation Houstonian, a former executive director of Texas Hillel, and is not the same person as Daniel Septimus the former chief executive of Sefaria. DSE Media is a video, podcast, and social media production company in Austin, Texas that works with Texas businesses, cities, economic development corporations, universities, and nonprofits.

In his words

“Good philanthropy is about relationships. It’s not about the money. It’s not about the buildings.”

“Be patient, listen, then strategize, then build, because you’ve got to bring people along with you.”

“Engagement is, what are you interested in doing? What excites you? What are the things that keep you up at night?”

“It’s a real destination for people to come and live, and most people are staying.”

“You have to create the experiences that people are actually looking for, not just what we think they’re looking for.”

What we talked about

The territory is much bigger than the city

He describes the organization as the hub of Jewish life in Central Texas, and he means Central Texas rather than Austin. The service area runs as far south as San Marcos, which he notes San Antonio occasionally tries to claim, and as far north as Sun City, where there is a large retiree population, and Georgetown, where young families are arriving. There are members in Temple now.

The framing he reaches for is Mayor Steve Adler’s argument that the region has to be thought about regionally, past municipal borders, the way Houston and Dallas are. His own version of the point is demographic: very few people in this community grew up here, they are arriving from elsewhere, and, in his words, most of them are staying.

What he would tell himself on day one

Be patient. He inherited a capital campaign and a mandate to take the campus to its next level, and he arrived eager to move. His retrospective advice to himself is a sequence: be patient, listen, then strategize, then build, because you have to bring people along with you and that takes the time it takes.

He is also candid that there was repair to do when he started, both internally with the staff team and in how the community came together around a shared vision. That is a more honest answer than this question usually gets.

Outreach is not engagement

This is the most portable idea in the interview and it came out of his time running Texas Hillel. He calls it twenty-first century engagement, and he draws the distinction sharply.

Outreach, as he learned it, is someone shaking your hand and pulling you into what they are already doing. Come bowling with us next week. Engagement is the opposite direction of travel: what are you interested in, what excites you, what keeps you up at night, and how do we build something around that answer. Sometimes what already exists fits. Sometimes it means creating a smaller experience, a micro community, for a handful of people.

He is clear-eyed about the obligation that creates. If you ask people what they want, you owe them ground rules about what you can and cannot do, and an honest answer when your organization is not the right home for it. He says they refer people elsewhere regularly, because someone else is the better fit.

A building designed to make people stop

The campus opened in 2000 and was transformative at the time, bringing what became three synagogues onto one site. His own project was the expansion, and the design thinking behind it is specific rather than architectural.

The premise was that if you drive in from Cedar Park you should have a reason to stay longer than a workout. So there is a living room where you can sit and work, coffee to get up for, a class in the gym with the same people in it every week, a tennis lesson with a group. His theory of community is not a program calendar, it is a floor plan that produces a hallway conversation.

They ran a market study before they built

Someone advised them to test the assumption before doubling down on health and wellness, so they did a market study first. The finding was that the demand was real, and that the thing they could offer which almost nobody else could was a genuinely multi-generational space. They leaned into that.

He is careful to say the campus is not just the building. It is the meditation garden, the terrace behind the community hall, the greenery, the spiritual centers as partners, a K through eight day school that is its own separate nonprofit, and the human services branch, which was moved onto the campus during his tenure.

Multi-generational, defined precisely

Asked what he actually means by it, he gives the concrete version. A grandparent, a parent and a child can all do something in the same building on the same visit. If you do not have children or grandchildren, you can still have touch points with people much younger than you.

The mechanism is an inspired aging program, and early childhood students who come in to spend time with what he calls the sixty and better population. The day school students do the same. Bringing demographics into contact with each other is, in his account, the value proposition that a fitness center or a school on its own cannot match.

Good philanthropy is about relationships

He had given his outgoing speech to a major donor dinner the week before this was filmed, and he repeats the line here. Good philanthropy is about relationships. It is not about the money and it is not about the buildings, and then, with the timing of somebody who has given the speech, he adds that of course you need those too.

The part that matters is the condition attached: to get to the money and the buildings, people have to feel they are in relationship with you first. For anyone running a campaign, that is the whole argument for storytelling, in one sentence, from someone who just finished a forty million dollar one.

The highlight he names first is his team

Asked for one highlight of the decade he says it should really be three, since things come in threes in Judaism, and then settles on two of equal weight.

The first is his executive team, and the way he puts it is a leadership lesson rather than a thank you: put people around you who help you think and who cover the places where your own strengths run out. The second is the campus, which he frames as transformative for the community rather than for the organization. The order of those two is the tell.

About Rabbi Daniel A. Septimus

Rabbi Daniel A. Septimus served as chief executive officer of Shalom Austin for a decade, from 2016 until the summer of 2026. He is now the first executive director of the Center for Jewish Peoplehood at JCC Association of North America, a role covering Jewish identity and community-building programs across the continent. He was succeeded at Shalom Austin by Rachel Stern.

Shalom Austin describes itself as the hub of Jewish life in Central Texas and operates the Dell Jewish Community Campus in Austin, which includes a community center, a K through eight day school, human services, and partner congregations. During his tenure the organization completed a forty million dollar capital campaign, expanded and renovated the community center, moved its human services branch onto the campus, launched the Bernard and Audre Rapoport Center for Jewish Culture and Education, and grew annual revenue from about twelve million dollars to nearly thirty million by the organization’s own accounting.

A fifth-generation Houstonian, he moved to Austin in 2014 to lead Texas Hillel. Before that he spent seven years at Temple De Hirsch Sinai in Seattle as associate rabbi and director of congregational learning. He holds a bachelor’s degree from Tulane University and rabbinic ordination from Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion, and has held Hartman and Schusterman fellowships.

More from the series

Three more conversations about giving money away well, and building something with it.

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