High Holidays

If You Only Come to Shul Twice a Year…

March 2, 2015 By Leon Adato

Editor’s note: while High Holidays are nowhere near our calendar right now, this old piece is important because it showcases what Purim means, as well as some timely advice for Jews who are unaffiliated.

Looking ahead toward the High Holidays, I imagine many Jews are considering (and perhaps dreading) what is – for them – a rare visit to synagogue. Arriving to find a large, anxious and somewhat impatient crowd (and on Yom Kippur add in “cranky from lack of food”), the entire experience justifies why one would want to stay away as much as possible.

If that’s your experience, then take my advice and do yourself a favor.

Don’t Go.

How can I say that? Isn’t it a sin to tell another Jew NOT to attend synagogue on the holiest days of the year? Stick with me, because I have a nefarious ulterior motive.

As you fight your way to an unfamiliar seat, I’ll be in that same crowd with you. I will be looking at the unfamiliar faces this year and feeling sorry for the experience they (ie: you) are having.

Trapped in a room where no amount of air conditioning could combat the heat of hundreds of bodies, sitting (and standing, and sitting again over and over seemingly without end or reason) through a service that may or may not be familiar, reading liturgy that is often humbling if not downright accusatory (“we have sinned” and “we are not worthy”). It’s easily enough to send anyone out of the building and straight to the nearest house of pancakes.

I want to stop the service for just a minute, and explain to the beleaguered visitors that on most weeks, there is room enough for people to change seats during the service so they can sit nearer (or further) from the action, or to just sit with friends and enjoy their closeness during prayer; On most Shabbats, the service clips along and the text is one of unbridled joy and peace and renewal; During the year, there is a “relaxed formality” in the room, where we are cognizant of the prayers we are saying, but laid back about kids coming and going, people coming in wearing shorts or sandals, and so on.

But it’s Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur. There is no realistic way to do that. I wonder if it would help even if I could.

I am reminded, however, of a quote by Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf, in his book “The One Hour Purim Primer.”.

The upshot is: if you are going to be a twice a year Jew, please please PLEASE make those two times a year be Purim and Simchat Torah. Come when there is joy, and celebration; when you are likely to walk away with a positive experience that will make you want to return more often.

“For Jewish kids whose parents only take them to synagogue twice a year, I would like to cast a vote in favor of those two days being Purim and Simchat Torah, not Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. When children – and adults – immerse themselves in the celebration of Purim one of the most important lessons they learn is that Jewish life incorporates the gamut of human emotional experience. Singing and dancing, costumes, fun and all around merrymaking are as integral to Judaism as charity, prayer and fasting. “

You can read the quote in its original context here.

(My nefarious ulterior motive exposed:) I want you to come at a time when you have such an amazing, engaging, interactive experience that you will WANT to come back again. And by the time next year rolls around and the High Holidays are upon us, you too will know that these two moments in time are not emblematic of the entire year. At that point you will understand that there is a beautiful rhythm – each point on the calendar flowing with unique levels of emotion, spirituality and effort; where some days (like Yom Kippur) are long and intense and require mental preparation. But others are so easy and fast that you feel a pang of regret when they are over. I want you to have a chance to see both ends of that spectrum, and everything in-between.

So if you are planning to be a “twice a year Jew“, please mark your calendars and I’ll plan to see you on the nights of October 20 (Simchat Torah) and March 7 (Purim). You can find me at the door, wearing the chicken costume (on Purim, at least) and pointing newcomers toward the cookies, schnaps and dancing.

(originally posted on The EdibleTorah)

Interview Season

September 26, 2011 By Leon Adato

In 2007, Rabbi Label Lam made a comment on torah.org that the Days of Awe are NOT – contrary to popular belief – about looking back or thinking about our actions over the past year, in order to make amends and repent. Rabbi Lam points out that Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur focus on looking ahead to the coming year and making a commitment about what you plan to do with that time.

In other words, it’s a job interview.

I don’t mind job interviews. They force me to evaluate what I know and what I’m comfortable sharing; it gives me a chance to really define what I bring to the table, and what I WANT to bring to the table.

Going on job interviews reminds me that I live in an American state with a policy of at-will employment, which means any job can be terminated by the employer or employee at any time, with no reasons given or needed. The reality is slightly better than that: employees usually give 2 weeks notice, and most employers usually give reasons for job termination. But if you feel your job has some kind of guaranteed stability, it’s an illusion. Going on job interviews Keeps It Real for me in that respect.

The parallels to Rabbi Lam’s view of the Yamim Norim (Days of Awe) are striking.

The current year is coming to an end. I find myself in synagogue being asked (by the liturgy and my own heart, if not God) what it is that I plan to do with myself this coming year; on what merit should my contract be extended? No matter what achievements I may have garnered over the year (and in retrospect they don’t look so impressive), they only have a minor bearing on my negotiations. This is all about my commitment to, and suitability for a future goal.

The U’Netaneh Tokef prayer, which asks (in part) “who will live and who will die; who will die at his predestined time and who before his time; who by water and who by fire” reminds me that I live in a state of at-will “employment” – that my next breath is not a sure thing and idea that my future has some kind of guaranteed stability is an illusion.

Rather than give up hope, I see in this a chance to re-commit and re-dedicate myself to doing what’s right. To resolve to make true t’shuvah. As I mentioned earlier in the blogelul challenge, that doesn’t mean promising to stop being bad, but rather to return to my best self and be the person that the world – and I – need me to be.

During a job interview (the regular computer-world ones, not the one that starts on the first of Tishrei), I make a point of stating my feelings about the job. It’s amazing how many people never do that – they never say “I want this job” or even “I think I can do this job”. So I always take the time (assuming that I want the job) to tell the interviewer:

“Not only do I think I can do this job, I think I can do a good job doing this job. And I want you to know that I want this job.”

During these Days of Awe, as I consider the year ahead and all the things God might ask of me, I don’t plan on being coy about my feelings or intentions. Sitting in prayer with nerves rubbed raw by liturgy that forces me to admit I am imperfect and flawed; edgy and agitated by long services and Hebrew that doesn’t fit easily in my mouth; cranky from lack of food ; and frustrated by an attention span which keeps wandering; In that condition I will be forced to admit that my soul is God’s for the taking.

But on that day I’m going to make sure that I state clearly that this job I’m being offered – the job of living in God’s world for another year – is a job I can do, that I will try with every fiber of my being to do a good job doing, and which I want very very much.

L’Shana Tova

(edited slightly from the original, which was posted on the Edible Torah here)

White is Right (in this context anyway)

August 30, 2010 By punktorah

What do we as Jews do that makes us so deserving of G-d’s praise and warm light? What have we done in order to wear white on Yom Kippur and not deem ourselves hypocrites within the halls of our shuls and the streets of our communities? White is such an unflattering color! Yet, this white symbolizes purity and stands as the visual indicator for a new chapter in the book of life. It becomes more interesting when you see people wearing white clothing and leather kippot. As if they are fooling Hash-m or a moderately educated child who emerged from basic Sunday school class.

We wear white in hopes to be inscribed in the book of life. How do we get there? How do we get to that point where we get another year? If we die, does that mean we did not follow Halakah so closely that we are doomed? Elderly people hang in the balance less that someone who defaces a Torah or commits an act of haste? Then every bully on the school yard would drop dead after hanging the poor wimpy kid upside down to take his milk money. The jails would be empty because Hash-m realizes tax money should go to innocent and hungry, so He would “take them out”. It does not seem to work this way.

So there they are… all the Jews in Los Angeles, the mid west, New York, Israel, South Africa and all the scattered Diasporas around the world. What are they wearing? White! On Kol Nidre, we present our case, or our attempt to correct what wrong doings we have made in the past year, to the “court”. The whole congregation stands before Hash-m. Again, this is ironic, seeing that your avyerot are individually done, but as a community Jews stand together. This is another visual. It stands as a reminder that we are a unit, not just an individual. That what one Jew does, can and very much will, affect another. Many of the times, when we commit our acts of injustice, we as Jews forget that in many daily situations we are the only Jews someone from an outside community may know.

Our children, what good does it do for them to wear white and see the rest of the community doing so? As Jewish people, we have brilliantly found ways in which to say a ton without speaking. This is like when your mother only says “Oy!” after you have brought someone home to meet her and she is displeased. Or, it’s when you pass the kuggel interrupting a bit of Leshon Horrah that’s happening at the table. It’s nonverbal! Your kids hear you enough all year. Sometimes as parents or adults, we take pleasure hearing our own voices. In shul, every adult wearing white is standing in solidarity. It says for many, “Today is important. Today I came prepared. Today I acknowledge G-d.” Rarely do Jews agree, so to speak together sets a precedence.

For those of you who haven’t prepared for the Holy Holidays, it’s okay, you have time! However, let you be encouraged to stand before your G-d in white. It does not promise you inscription nor does it promise you praise and blessings, but it does mandate the community to pick up the visual testament of the Jewish faith. Without white attire, Yom Kippur could look like any other day. It is only correct to offer it the purest contribution your heart can provide.

Be true to the streets

Yentapunker

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