Trish and I have become regulars at Shabbat services Saturday morning at the synagogue we joined last year. The services are typically about 2 ½ hours long. When I tell non-Jewish friends that we go to a weekly service of that length, they are usually incredulous. When I tell my Jewish friends we go early, they typically say, “You go for the WHOLE service?” You see, Jews tend to wander into Shabbat services whenever they want and that “whenever” is rarely right at the beginning. Let me explain why we go. Or, at least, why I go for the whole service. Trish has her own reasons and that is for her to tell. (Maybe a guest essay on the blog? Encourage her!)
1) Safety and familiarity. Those of you who have been around a bit may remember my essay, The Holiness of Barbie. If you haven’t read it yet, I encourage you to do so. It’s a good prologue to this essay and I don’t want to repeat my personal Jewish history here. In many ways, I’m going to pick up where that essay left off. When I moved in with Trish almost ten years ago now, I let my affiliation with the synagogue I had attended in Allentown lapse since the drive was just too long to be practical. I had thought about affiliating down here, but Trish wasn’t Jewish and, although she was certainly supportive of my participation, I didn’t want to become part of a community that she wasn’t engaged with. Besides, we were just starting our life together and there was a lot of new stuff to get comfortable with.
Years went by and although I kept thinking about finding a local synagogue, I didn’t take action. I was really traumatized by the massacre at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh. In fact, I penned an essay on that which led to me starting this blog. (Read it here.) Trish and I went to a local shul for a service around that tragedy, but I went no further. Then October 7, 2023 happened. I was shaken to my core on that one. That event along with rising antisemitism in this country and the world left me craving the safety of Jewish community. When I say “safety,” I don’t just mean the armed guards at the door—although we DO have armed guards there for every service. I mean emotional safety.
As I wrote in the Barbie essay, we attended services regularly when I was growing up. While each congregation has their own particular flow of the service, the variations are relatively narrow. There may be different choices on certain prayers and different tunes used for some parts, but in general if you go to services at a Conservative synagogue, everything will feel very familiar, and that familiarity is a big reason I go.
I feel my father’s presence so strongly during services. As I sing the familiar tunes, I can hear him beside me singing along. I vividly remember sitting next to him on those Saturday mornings, bored out of my mind. I would play with the fringes on his tallis, wondering how much longer until we could get to the Kiddush lunch afterwards. Bored though I was as a little girl (and I’m not bored now!), going to services brings back that comfort of childhood and family. I know Dad would be so happy that I’m going to services regularly again and I know he would be so proud if I could work up the courage to read from the Torah. That’s a whole different journey that we will tackle in time.
2) A feeling of peace and sanctuary That connection to my childhood is a good part of the reason I go to services at all. I go so early because of my need for peace and sanctuary. There is just something about sliding into “prayer mode”. When we get there, Trish and I pause outside the chapel, say a blessing, and put on our tallitot (prayer shawls). Just the act of donning my tallis separates my mind from everything else in the world and puts me in the zone. Those early prayers are quiet and meditative and I let my mind go wherever it needs to go. Just being there, listening to the rabbi and cantor, reinforces that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves. It’s humbling. It’s a reminder of the need to put life into perspective and remember your role as a human—to BE human. You get this sense of sanctuary and peace in lots of places. Some go out in nature. Some volunteer in their community. I’m not saying you need organized religion to find it. I’m encouraging you to find it SOMEWHERE.
3) Community This is perhaps the biggest reason I go. It’s what drove me back after October 7th. We were drawn into the Temple Sinai community from the first day we walked in that door. As we’ve become regulars, we have gotten to know the other regulars. After Shabbat services, there is a light lunch called a Kiddush and we’ve started to become the ones who close the place down. We sit and talk, share stories, get to know the other members of this community. There’s just something about feeling part of a larger whole, and the accountability that comes with it. I was welcomed back this week after having been in Atlanta last weekend. I was gone one week. But I was missed. Trish and I are, of course, starting to get involved in other activities at the synagogue. We are drawn to helping out, to giving back. And there is no shortage of opportunities.
There is a lot in the popular press these days about the various ills facing our society. I am one of those who feel that a loss of community has been a big contributor to our current problems. We’ve become a very “self”-centered society. The pandemic only worsened an existing trend. Stuck indoors with just our immediate family (if that), we seem to have forgotten that the world does not revolve solely around our own needs. Hey, I’m all for freedom. But when your freedom is expressed without regard for the needs of the broader community, you have anarchy. We need to feel a sense of responsibility for and toward each other again. Honestly, it’s what makes life worth living anyway. I have a whole lot more to say about community. What I will end on today is my gratitude that we’ve found a community (or two!) that gives us that grounding that we need. And, for my Jewish friends, we get to help make a minyan! (Wink)
Beautiful!