Rosh Hashana

[cellio]

This was a good Rosh Hashana. Services were good, I was able to do something useful, and we had friends over for lunch. (I'll write about lunch in a separate entry.)

We've had double services for a few years now, and for the first time this year we'll have double services on Yom Kippur morning. (We just can't fit everyone into the building any more -- or at least not if we want to comply with fire codes.) So this year, for the first time, they decided to make the services different, rather than just doing the same thing twice. So the earlier services have less-formal music and are a little shorter. I chose them because of the former and despite the latter. (I don't really like some of the cuts we tend to make as it is.)

It turns out that a lot of the time "savings" comes from the less-formal music, at least if my memories of last year are accurate. Up until now, HHD services have involved a choir (and an organ) with somewhat-elaborate, almost operatic music -- which tends to be slow (but not in a way that encourages quiet worship), fancy, and sometimes repetitive. This is hard to do well and most choirs are not up to the task. But I hate operatic music anyway; in my (limited) experience, defining characteristics include a focus on music over text, to the point where articulation and enunciation become secondary. If I can't tell what words you're saying, and I have the text in front of me and can follow, you're doing something wrong. So I was thrilled to have an alternative.

The early services had our cantorial intern (no choir), and a piano instead of the organ, and sometimes a guitar. Prayers that were sung were sung in such a way that the congregation could participate. Music that was meant to be cantorial, not congregational, was fancier and less follow-able, but absolutely clear and understandable. We had our traditional "Avinu Malkeinu" (really pretty; don't know the source), a very moving "Unatanatokef", and some other music that was very effective at conveying the mood of the day. I really like our cantor. I found our services very moving (though the really moving stuff comes on Yom Kippur), and our rabbis and our cantor are largely responsible for that.

Yeah, the siddur gets some credit, when it's not watering things down too much. A nice observation that I do like from Gates of Repentance is that we write ourselves into one of the books, either the book of life or the other, based on our actions -- it's not just God's judgement that decides that. We seal our own fates, and even now, as the traditional liturgy reminds us, we can abate a harsh decree with teshuva (repentance, loosely), tzedakah (charity, again loosely), and t'filah (prayer). More about some of this in a separate post later, maybe.

Saturday morning I stayed for part of the late service, so I heard bits of the choir. What I heard matched what I remember, though these particular choir members (not the same people as last year) seemed to be doing better with the text, at least for the parts I heard. It was still too far toward the "performance" end of the spectrum, though; I mean, the congregation really ought to be saying things like the Barchu response. And the choir should be leading the congregation in worship, not performing. (No, I don't mean the music shouldn't be good -- it's a matter of where attention is focused.)

Friday night's sermon, given by the associate rabbi, was interesting. This past year he joined the Air Force reserves (as a chaplain), so he started by talking about that. Lots of people ask him why he did it, and he says it's because he wants to serve something bigger than just himself -- the way we also, ideally, do with Judaism. He then used this parallel through the rest of the sermon, talking about what it means to serve and really be part of the Jewish people. I think this was aimed in part at the twice-a-year Jews, but really, it applies to everyone. He asked everyone to consider what we do Jewishly, and to add something to our practice over the coming year. We should, of course, consider observance from a Reform perspective, but being part of the Reform movement doesn't mean we have permission to just blow off all matters of halacha. We need to study and evaluate, not ignore. He did a good job with this, and I hope he puts the sermon on the web site. (If he does, I'll link it later.)

So this is just a tiny thing, not my action item for the year or anything like that, but on the way home I decided that this would be the year for one small change. I learned, a couple years ago I guess, that there is another paragraph to Shabbat evening kiddush, beyond what we do in our synagogue. (I note, in passing, that in non-synagogue settings, like on our shabbatons, my rabbi adds this paragraph.) I've been meaning to add it when I say kiddush at home, but have been a little hesitant because I thought Dani would object to having to stand there and listen to me for another 45 seconds or whatever. But I added Vaychulu Friday night, and told him I'd be adding it from now on, and he didn't twitch too badly. That's good.

I think the biggest things to tackle are actually internal, not matters of ritual. Things like avoiding lashon hara, and judging others favorably, and putting forth one's best efforts, and so on. These are also hard to measure, though; it's easy to evaluate whether one is successfully adding a new level of kashrut, or a new prayer to the daily routine, or a new behavior for Shabbat, or whatever, but it's hard to know if you're actually seeing change on the internal front. But it's the matters between people, rather than between people and God, that should really get most of our attention. (One of these days I will get around to expanding on a discussion of this that I found myself in a week or so ago over in jbcs.)

Saturday's sermon was rooted in the Akeidah, the binding of Isaac. It was effective but doesn't summarize well. Cope. :-)

I was an usher for the late morning service. (They had asked board members to sign up, and I said I'd take any late service. I was hoping for Yom Kippur morning; maybe I'll ask for that too.) This meant, essentially, taking tickets and helping people with random things. About 20 minutes after the late service started people were still trickling in, but the flow was way down and they told us we could leave. (One person was going to stay at the door through the entire service, but they didn't need the rest of us.)

(Aside: I deliberately attended an early service and then stayed to usher the late service, so I wouldn't miss any of the service. (If you usher the service you're attending, you miss the first 20-30 minutes.) I thought this was obvious, but I might have been the only person who did that. Hmm. I'm told that some people consider missing the first 20-30 minutes to be an advantage...)

Before I left, I decided that as chair of the worship committee I ought to check out aspects of services that I don't normally experience. So I went inside to the very back, to judge how well people can see and hear. We have video monitors in the back part of the room and they work pretty well, for those who prefer to see the rabbi's face clearly rather than the whole bima in the distance. (It's a passive system; there's no camerman.) Sound was good in all parts of the room. I was surprised to see people sitting in the very back row even though they didn't need to; I guess some habits are hard to kill. :-) (We set up more chairs than we needed, just because you never know if the balance between early and late is going to be wacky.)

Now, the reason I'm hoping to usher Yom Kippur morning is that it'll give me something to do. We have programming all day, so in theory you don't need to leave until the very end, except that with the new double services, if you come to the early service you then have a few hours to kill before the afternoon service and study sessions. I don't want to just go to the late service; I'll connect better with the early one. (I'm going to late Kol Nidre because going to the early one would add an hour to my fast.) I don't really want to walk home and then walk back on Yom Kippur day; I mean, it's not like I can go have lunch or something. :-) I've pretty much settled on sneaking into the library; I'm sure I can find something on the shelves to help pass the time. But if I can spend some of that time actually being useful, so much the better.

On my way out on Saturday I ran into someone who asked me, for reasons unknown, if I was on my way to Young People's (an Orthodox congregation). I said no, but that gave me an idea. I've been meaning to visit YPS but the logistics just haven't worked out. They're holding their HHD services at the JCC, halfway between Temple Sinai and my house, and their advertising seems to imply that tickets aren't needed. So maybe, after our morning service is over, when I need to fill a couple hours anyway, I'll wander over there to see what (part of) an Orthodox Yom Kippur service is like. (I can stash my tallit somewhere in Temple Sinai, avoiding the awkwardness of walking into an Orthodox shul carrying a tallit. Women don't wear them there. This is the main reason I've never stopped in at YPS on Shabbat morning on my way home.) If they require tickets, I've wasted 15 minutes and I can just go back to our library and find something to read. If they don't, I might learn something while also spending that time in an environment suited to the seriousness of the day. And I know they won't have an organ, and probably won't have a choir. :-)

Comments

[cellio]

Good point. Several of the people in the last row seemed to be alone in this case, which seems to preclude planned talking, but shrug. Also, in our case, the seats in the back are the uncomfortable folding chairs -- no good for sleeping at all. :-)

One of the things I really like about my rabbi is that he makes you think. He engages you in what's going on. I am very lucky.