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some rambling notes from Yom Kippur
Yom Kippur was really good for me this year. I haven't had time to assemble a more-organized post (and lookie, Sukkot starts tomorrow night!), but I want to record a few disconnected thoughts.
We had the minyan-style (Ruach) service for the morning service again, this time using the draft of the new Reform machzor (which is in beta test and is, I believe, scheduled for publication in 2015). We also, for the first time, had a minyan-style service for Rosh Hashana and used that draft too. Overall I am pleased with what I saw of the new machzor; there are certainly decisions I would make differently (including a major formatting one), it's still way, way better than Gates of Repentance, the current book. Ok, granted, that's a low bar, but still...
At that service on Rosh Hashana at one point my rabbi stood up and said "tag, you're it" (not in those words), leaving me to proceed from an unfamiliar book. (He had to go downstairs to the other service.) I stumbled some but got kudos from congregants for my attempt. So on Yom Kippur I got there early so I could review the new book, and he was able to stay. But hey, I would have been prepared to lead the vidui and s'lichot if I'd've had to. (The minyan-style service goes until the torah service, at which point we all adjourn to the sanctuary for the rest.)
I chanted torah for the afternoon service again, same part as last year. They gave me the same part for Rosh Hashana morning as last year, too. I detect a pattern. :-) I'm hoping that next year will be the year I actually learn high-holy-day trope.
On Yom Kippur afternoon, to fill time between services so people don't have to leave if they don't want to, we have a beit midrash, classes. To my surprise there was nothing I wanted to go to during the first hour, so I found a quiet corner and read more of the new machzor. (And just sat and thought for a while.) During the second hour I went to a class that was really more of a discussion about forgiveness, more focused on the human element than halacha. More questions than answers here -- do you have to forgive someone who intentionally hurt you, does "forgive" imply "forget", can you put a situation behind you without actually resolving it (psychologically, I mean) and just not let that guy live rent-free in your brain any more or do people need closure, stuff like that. Lots to think about; little to report.
I found many of my thoughts over the day drifting to someone in authority over a community I dedicated a lot of energy to, who repeatedly and unapologetically misused that authority in ways that damaged me, and the other people who stood by and let it happen. I am trying really hard to just ignore the whole thing, while at the same time wishing that maybe somebody would learn something from it.
At the ne'ilah service (the last one of the day, near sunset), the associate rabbi spontaneously invited anybody who wanted to to come up onto the bimah in front of the open ark for the service. Nobody stood immediately, but a moment later I did -- not sure what was driving me, but I'm glad I did (and a dozen or so people joined me). It was a different experience, and even though God isn't physical so proximity doesn't mean anything, being right there in front of the open ark did...something. It definitely enhanced my prayer.
We had the minyan-style (Ruach) service for the morning service again, this time using the draft of the new Reform machzor (which is in beta test and is, I believe, scheduled for publication in 2015). We also, for the first time, had a minyan-style service for Rosh Hashana and used that draft too. Overall I am pleased with what I saw of the new machzor; there are certainly decisions I would make differently (including a major formatting one), it's still way, way better than Gates of Repentance, the current book. Ok, granted, that's a low bar, but still...
At that service on Rosh Hashana at one point my rabbi stood up and said "tag, you're it" (not in those words), leaving me to proceed from an unfamiliar book. (He had to go downstairs to the other service.) I stumbled some but got kudos from congregants for my attempt. So on Yom Kippur I got there early so I could review the new book, and he was able to stay. But hey, I would have been prepared to lead the vidui and s'lichot if I'd've had to. (The minyan-style service goes until the torah service, at which point we all adjourn to the sanctuary for the rest.)
I chanted torah for the afternoon service again, same part as last year. They gave me the same part for Rosh Hashana morning as last year, too. I detect a pattern. :-) I'm hoping that next year will be the year I actually learn high-holy-day trope.
On Yom Kippur afternoon, to fill time between services so people don't have to leave if they don't want to, we have a beit midrash, classes. To my surprise there was nothing I wanted to go to during the first hour, so I found a quiet corner and read more of the new machzor. (And just sat and thought for a while.) During the second hour I went to a class that was really more of a discussion about forgiveness, more focused on the human element than halacha. More questions than answers here -- do you have to forgive someone who intentionally hurt you, does "forgive" imply "forget", can you put a situation behind you without actually resolving it (psychologically, I mean) and just not let that guy live rent-free in your brain any more or do people need closure, stuff like that. Lots to think about; little to report.
I found many of my thoughts over the day drifting to someone in authority over a community I dedicated a lot of energy to, who repeatedly and unapologetically misused that authority in ways that damaged me, and the other people who stood by and let it happen. I am trying really hard to just ignore the whole thing, while at the same time wishing that maybe somebody would learn something from it.
At the ne'ilah service (the last one of the day, near sunset), the associate rabbi spontaneously invited anybody who wanted to to come up onto the bimah in front of the open ark for the service. Nobody stood immediately, but a moment later I did -- not sure what was driving me, but I'm glad I did (and a dozen or so people joined me). It was a different experience, and even though God isn't physical so proximity doesn't mean anything, being right there in front of the open ark did...something. It definitely enhanced my prayer.
On the bimah
Happy New Year! I have seen you around at our on-line Question & Answer community in-common, now and then. I up voted some good answers that you wrote, but I had overlooked in the past, on various stacks!
You said:
That is so true! It shouldn't seem more real, yet it does (in my recollections, just like yours). Maybe the Torah is greater than we realize? In other words, maybe my great-grandparents and grandparents who studied Midrash were right, about its vitality, which they alluded to, in an almost dismissive way? Judaism does not encourage the supernatural or inexplicable, not overtly :o) An equally possible cause: The heightened intensity is due to standing up there, in front of the entire sanctuary, however large or small the congregation is!
I look forward to seeing you online during the coming year. Best wishes to you and your family!
Sincerely,
Mrs. L.E. Wells nee Kesselman
a.k.a. Oink on EL&U SE
Re: On the bimah
An equally possible cause: The heightened intensity is due to standing up there, in front of the entire sanctuary, however large or small the congregation is!
That's a good point, and one I hadn't thought of. Thanks.