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I Don’t Rock On Shabbos: Advice For Jewish Musicians

In my life as a musician, many nights I’ll find myself loading my gear in the car and catching a quick
bite with my wife before we head off to my band’s rehearsal space or a venue for our next show. It’s
a routine that takes a little bit of getting used to, but it’s already assumed when we show up that my
wife grabs my bass guitar case and I grab my amplifier out of the trunk. We meet up with my band
mates and discuss what’s going down, either with the show or the rehearsal, and get to setting up. Being
a bassist and pragmatist, my effects-free setup only includes setting up my amplifier, tuning up any
basses I’m using that night, and then helping the drummer setup. After that, we play till sometimes 2
o’clock in the morning. This routine can, at times, fill up many nights of my week. However, there is
one evening of the week when not a single bit of this is guaranteed and the rest of my band knows this;
Shabbat.

Being a Torah-observant musician in a secular music scene can be pretty rough, but it doesn’t have to
be. In fact, sometimes the two worlds almost parallel one another. Just like my routine for getting into
playing music, my Friday night routine takes some husband-wife masterminding. It’s understood that I
pick up the wine and that she helps her mother with dinner. She sets the table and I…eat what’s on the
table! In many ways it can be similar to a gig night, which both can end in throwing around gut-busting
stories from the past that get even more funny after a couple drinks. Even the dim glow of the Shabbat
tables as they burn down can reflect the dim lighting of a music venue. In both places, music surrounds
the room; just at venues, it’s a rhythm section and at the Shabbat table, it can be anything from Havenu
Shalom Aleichem to Hine Ma Tov.

With the similarities out of the way, I know many of the aspects that are different between Erev
Shabbat and gig night are difficult to come to terms with. Here are some tips for musicians as well as
other night-time workers who also make kiddush.

1. Change “I don’t play Friday nights” to “I can’t play Friday nights.” This simple wording trick
stresses much more importance on your Torah observance. People, especially in the secular
world, aren’t going to take you seriously until you take yourself seriously.

2. “I can’t afford to take Shabbat off.” You can’t afford NOT to take Shabbat off. I’ll admit, this
one is especially for those who are trying to get into the gist of Shabbat and could go for any
night-time or potential Saturday professionals. As B’nai Yisrael, your time to recharge is
Shabbat. That’s how we’re designed. Without that, it’s extremely to difficult to align your soul to
the Holy One the rest of the week or even to focus properly on other weekly tasks.

3. “My band will be upset with me if I can’t play Friday nights.” In that case, it’s probably time to
find a new band. If keeping Shabbat is going to be that much of a hang-up and your band mates
aren’t willing to respect that, there will probably be other things about you that they don’t quite
fully respect. Without that solid bond with your bandmates, the sound will end up suffering in
the long run as well as your friendships with them.

4. “Friday night is the hottest night of the week to play music.” In my musical experiences before
keeping Shabbat and what I’ve heard from gentile musician friends, Friday night might draw the
biggest crowds, but bigger is not always better. As human beings, we’re simply programmed
to let loose on Friday nights at sundown. Whether that means sitting down at a Shabbat table
with friends and family for wine and meal to sing songs, tell stories, and just enjoy each other’s
company to going out on the town and getting hammered because it’s finally the weekend.
Many times, even people that work the next day still feel this need to unwind on Friday nights.

So, do you really want to play when all the crazies are out? Wait till Saturday night when
everyone has gotten all the crazy out of their system from Friday night. The energy of the gig
will be much better.

5. “I’ll lose cred as a musician if I don’t play on Friday nights.” Negatory. If anything, you’ll gain
cred as a human being for standing your ground. In my experiences as a musician and just
as a person. I’ve witnessed some people who will do just about anything for a gig, money,
and the spotlight. Many times when I tell a promoter or band manager that I can’t play Friday
nights because I keep the Sabbath, instead of a scoff I usually get a “hmmm” followed by an
assortment of questions and finally a “Hey, that’s cool, man. I respect that.” Give people a
chance to turn you down for something before you just turn yourself down.

Keeping Shabbat isn’t impossible for a musician or any worker in an industry that conducts a large
chunk of their business on Friday nights and Saturdays, but it does mean that you are going to have to
put yourself that much more out there and work harder while you can work. For me as a musician, that
has meant I have really had to up my game and be a better player than the next guy in order to be worth
a band canceling all their Friday night shows for. After all, if you’re a mediocre player who can’t play
Fridays, why shouldn’t they find a better player who can?

Keeping Shabbat is never meant to be a burden, but instead a delight. How many of your non-Jewish
friends can you say have a certain day when they have absolutely nothing to worry about and just juice
up their batteries for the next week? If you keep the Sabbath, the Sabbath will keep you; I guarantee it.

Ken Lane is a freelance writer, musician and SEO maven.

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Kavana Cooperative: Finally, A Real Jewish Community

Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum, recipient of the Joshua Venture fund, wants Jews to create community.

Really. I mean it.

“People feel alienated and lonely. Orthodoxy has created a framework for overcoming [that, but] in the non-Orthodox world, we haven’t figured out how to crack that nut yet,” says Nussbaum.

With The Kavana Cooperative, the volunteers (lead by Nussbaum) have drop-kicked the synagogue system and developed an alternative Jewish family in Seattle, Washington.

According to Rabbi Nussbaum, the reason the synagogue model doesn’t work has to deal with demographics. “Most synagogues are based in a post-World War Two audience.” The new generation is not stepping into the synagogue, so new communities, “alternative families” as Nussbaum calls them, have to be created.

The former rabbi of a suburban congregation, Nussbaum says that her “peer group wouldn’t walk in” to the synagogue because “demographically it was a different area.” This set Nussbaum to create something that would appeal to her and her friends.

Four years into “this glorious experiment”, Kavana is a co-op of a few hundred people with a “high level of commitment” to each other. Called a “Hillel for adults and families”, the Kavana Cooperative provides everything for a Jewish community including educational and social programs, life cycle events, Shabbat and holiday experiences.

Part of the problem with creating new models for doing anything is that there is no way to explain it. Nussbaum calls this “creating a new vocabulary”, and a constant process of defining “ourselves in contrast or comparison” to other organizations.

Is Kavana a synagogue? A havura? A school? A social club? Yes, yes, yes, yes and then some.

A week in the life of a Kavana Cooperative member can include Hebrew immersion for kids, “living room learning” in someone’s home, Kabbalat Shabbat in a coffee shop, Saturday morning traditional Shabbat minyan, or alternative holiday programming such as their upcoming trip to a local dairy farm for Shavuot.

Diversity is a key element to the Kavana experience. Unlike synagogues, which Nussbaum says are more like churches, Kavana understands that “prayer is one access point” to the Jewish experience, but that “community is the central thing.”

Mostly, it’s about “allowing people to figure out where they fit”, say Nussbaum.

Kavana Cooperative is working. Enough that the Joshua Venture has awarded the organization funds to further their goal, including setting up a leadership training program so this co-op model can be recreated everywhere.

Visit www.kavana.org for more info.

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Indie Minyan Kit + Pocket Siddur

Finally, a chance to pray three times a day and celebrate Shabbat your own way.

A “shul in a box”, the Indie Minyan Kit contains everything needed for a person to create a havurah (community), host daily group or private prayers, or a Shabbat service. The kit includes:

  • One Indie Yeshiva Pocket Siddur: a siddur that is gender inclusive, LGBT friendly, written in English and Hebrew transliteration, fits in your pocket, and to be honest, has a cover that will blow your mind
  • Duality glass Shabbat candle sticks, which hold tea lights or holy land candles
  • Two sets of Shabbat candles
  • Rustic challah cover with blue stripes
  • Egalitarian kippah with “super secret” message printed inside
  • PunkTorah buttons and stickers
  • PunkTorah “Propaganda” CD featuring a printable copy of the siddur to give away, as well as graphics and templates for making posters and handouts for promoting your “indie” minyan
  • Shabbat matches courtesy of ModernTribe
  • Music compilation CD featuring DeLeon, SoCalled, Balkan Beat Box and Golem, courtesy of JDub Records
  • Gifts from G-dcast, a partner with PunkTorah

The kit will retail for $33.99 and is available through the PunkTorah Shop at ModernTribe.

Buy it and we’ll come to your house/dorm/apartment/office and daven with you! Just send us an email and we’ll see you there: minyankit@punktorah.org

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PunkTorah Podcast: A Very Special Episode

PunkTorah Podcast: A Very Special Episode

The only Kosher for the Omer podcast (as far as we’re aware)!

This week we present a very special episode. We discuss our new site, our new focus, our new merch, and your new opportunities!

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Album Review: The Threshing Floor

When you run a non-profit organization called PunkTorah, it’s fairly easy to get pigeon-holed. I can’t count the number of times that someone has raised their hand in my face, made rocker “devil horns” and said, “yeah, PunkTorah guy” in a Sid Vicious voice. It’s for that reason that people might be surprised that my new favorite Jewish album is “The Threshing Floor”, a choral masterpiece by the musicians that make up Congregation Bet Haverim of Atlanta, Georgia*.

What, no Jewish punk? No Heebie hip hop? Patrick, shul is the “establishment”!

Before you get your undies in a twist, let me tell you a little something about Congregation Bet Haverim: their rabbi is a gay body builder, and the lay cantor screams Earth Goddess when she wails on hand drums. At Friday night services, you’ll find yourself wedged between a black, lesbian college student and a retired hippie couple, craving the organic, locally sourced vegetarian oneg prepared by a Sephardic family while adopted Asian children run around at your feet dropping crumbs of challah on the floor.

Am I still a sell out? Didn’t think so.

Less talk, more rock. And the Threshing Floor rocks!

The album kicks off with “Dodi Li”. Lay cantor Gayanne Weiss has this kind, maternal voice that later booms to life as hand percussion and choral background dance together in harmony with melodic guitar and make your spirit shoot out of your chest. Moving on to ballads by Will Robertson (who also produced the album), world musical influences with Iraqi, Ugandan and Indian flair, Sephardic and Hasidic incantations and African American call-and-response, this album breathes new life into congregational music.

It doesn’t surprise me at all. Bet Haverim is Atlanta’s “misfit” Jewish community, a rag tag group of people united under the banner of diversity. It’s no wonder that “The Threshing Floor” is equal parts Civil Rights spiritual and Shabbat liturgy, features covers of Michael Stipe (REM) songs and folk music inspired midrashic interpretations of Lamentations. “Solu, Solu” could easily be an homage to the Benedictine monks, while “Ken Es Akeyo De La Meniana/Wayfaring Stranger” could be the missing next single by DeLeon. In the back of my mind I heard the voices of my friends say, “if I could hear this kind of music, I would come to services.”

The kicker for me is track five, a cover of Mosh Ben Ari’s “Od Yavo Shalom Aleinu”. The warm strings are like a parent soothing you to sleep while guitar picks up the tempo. Suddenly you’re hypnotized by the percussion creeping beneath the choir’s mantra and without warning, you’re a True Believer.

The Threshing Floor shows me our greatest strength as a people: our collaborative nature. Across genres, languages, cultures and styles, this album is a love poem, a psalm, to our higher power. I love it, and I think you’ll love it, too.
Visit www.congregationbethaverim.org to order the album. Available on iTunes soon.

*Since the Feds are cracking down on bloggers accepting gifts and the whole “ethics” thing, I should in full disclosure admit to being a member of this synagogue. But even if I weren’t, I’d still review this record because I love it.

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PunkTorah: Parshat Vayak’hel-Pekudei

Michael מִיכָאֵל

In this weeks portion, we finish the book of Sh’mot, Exodus, and read the twin parshayot Vayakhel and Pekudei.
At the beginning, Moses reiterates the commandment to observe Shabbat, and then goes on to explain, in excruciating detail, the construction of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, that is to be Hashem’s dwelling place with the Israelites as they travel. The question in this portion is what, in all of these details regarding the kind of blue, purple and red dyed wool, goat hair, animal skins, gold, silver, and copper, what can we learn from this, this mishegas? This craziness?

This is the questions I asked myself:
What does this have to do with me?

At the beginning of the portion, Moses asks the Israelites to donate these rich and precious materials to build G_d’s house, His Tabernacle, and to work to build the Sanctuary.
And what do the Jews do?
They give.
And give.
And give some more.
The Torah says:
“Every man and woman whose heart motivated them to bring for any of the work that Hashem had commanded to make, through Moses – the Children of Israel brought a free-willed offering to Hashem.”
They came and gave freely. Not only did they give, they worked, they sewed and built and labored.
In fact, they gave so much of their possessions and of themselves that Moses had to say, “Man and woman shall not do more work toward the gift for the Sanctuary”!
Moses told them to stop!
So what did I learn from this?
We are called to give, not as charity and not just money. Jews are called to give tzedakah, which means “righteousness” or “justice”. We are called to do right with ourselves and our resources.
So give.
Keep giving.
Not just of money, not just of gold and silver and goat skins.
We need to give and give until Moshe Rabbenu himself tells us “Enough!”

And then, being Jews, we should give some more!

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We’re All Zocher Shabbos (Whether We Admit It Or Not)

There’s a great debate between the Shabbat observant about whether to be Shomer Shabbos (guard the Sabbath) or Zocher Shabbos (remember the Sabbath).

In a nutshell, Shomer Shabbos Jews believe in observing the law for the law’s sake (or a literal interpretation). This means that the following activities would “break” Shabbat:

“ploughing earth, sowing, reaping, binding sheaves, threshing, winnowing, selecting, grinding, sifting, kneading, baking, shearing wool, washing wool, beating wool, dyeing wool, spinning, weaving, making two loops, weaving two threads, separating two threads, tying, untying, sewing stitches, tearing, trapping, slaughtering, flaying, tanning, scraping hide, marking hides, cutting hide to shape, writing two or more letters, erasing two or more letters, building, demolishing, extinguishing a fire, kindling a fire, putting the finishing touch on an object and transporting an object between the private domain and the public domain, or for a distance of 4 cubits within the public domain” (taken from wikipedia.org).

The Zocher Shabbos, on the other hand, believe in “remembering the Shabbat” and have a more loose interpretation, citing the metaphorical aspects of Shabbos over the literal. Example: a Zocher Shabbos person will drive to synagogue for Shabbat (since the Bible pre-dates cars) while a Shomer Shabbat person would not drive because using a car requires an internal combustion engine that “creates fire”.

Recently, I have had several conversations with self-proclaimed Observant Jews on the issue on Shabbat. And I have realized that, despite what anyone says, we are all Zocher Shabbos.

There are many technologies that the Orthodox and Conservative Jewry have created to make Shabbat easier (example: timers on air conditioners and other appliances, a Shabbat elevator that opens the door and every floor so no one has to push a button, or hooks onto your belt for carrying keys so that you aren’t actually “carrying” anything). In a sense, you are cheating Shabbat, by trying to find ways “around” the actual rule: not to use your creative power to alter your environment for your own sake on this sanctified say.

Shabbat is about creating a time for the sacred to be the center of attention and removing the external forces that create the mundane activities of the work week. In this way, I personally feel that understanding Shabbat as Zocher Shabbos is to remember the “why” of Shabbat as opposed to the “how” of Shabbat.

Take it with a grain of salt, as this comes from a guy who never went to yeshiva. However, if you do take it with a grain of salt, make sure not to travel with that grain of salt farther that four cubits between 5PM on Friday and 7PM on Saturday.

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