If my pen is offensive, I'm gonna need some kind of warning.
Crossposted to The Reform Shuckle
If your communal standards are non-standard, do us all a favor and have some signs made. Please?
Last year, I spent all of Yom Kipur and the morning of Simchat Torah at Kehilat Hadar. I did a repeat performance this year, adding several hours at Bnai Jeshurun on the night of Simchat Torah.
On Yom Kipur this year, a gabai told me to stop writing in the margin of my machzor at Hadar. When all is said and done, it was frustrating, but not out of line. Hadar uses no amplification or anything on yom tov. It’s a community that defines its communal spaces as shomer shabbat. So I stopped writing.
But BJ is a whole other story. I have a whole list of regular complaints about BJ (it’s a meat market, etc), but Simchat Torah had me more miffed than usual. I’m often told that on the evening of Simchat Torah, BJ is the place to be. So I went.
Far beyond my usual complaints, it was a night club, complete with Israeli bouncers at all entrances and exits. The only thing to distinguish the gyrating mass of Jews from night club was the sprinkling of people dancing with sifrei Torah.
For me, events like this are a spectator sport. I felt most comfortable when the dancing was over and the Torah reading began. During the dancing hakafot, I stood off to the side, sporadically annotating my siddur and chatting with the many friends I was running into. It all reminded me a lot of summer camp. I was always that kid standing off to the side during Israeli dancing, grotesquely fascinated, but utterly unwilling to join in.
Amid all of this, there’s a piano playing, rabbis are singing loudly into microphones. Everything sounds beautiful.
Except for one thing. Four of five times during each half-hour dance hakafah, one rabbi or another would shout over the music into the microphone, “No pictures, please!” People were indeed taking pictures–with flash!–of the rotating clod of Jews. To me, far more distracting than the odd flash here and there were the announcements admonishing us all to stop taking pictures.
But I can understand it. The flashes distract. One person I chatted with said the flashes were more distracting to her than the announcements. Fine. The microphones enhanced the dancing worship, while the flashes detract. I get it.
But more than anything else, I was amused by the notion of shouting into a microphone to tell people not to take pictures. There’s something halachically hilarious about it.
And then some rather officious woman in fanny pack decided that my note-taking was a problem and told me to stop.
So now we come back to my original point: If your communal standards are non-standard, do us all a favor and have some signs made.
If there will be amplification, mixed dancing, totally nonreligious Jewish high school students, at least two well-known Orthodox rabbis (that I spotted), admonishments over the mics not to take pictures, My Number One Fan, a handful of Jewschoolers (hey guys!), etc., there’s no way to know what’s appropriate.
In a Conservative shul, in a Reform shul, in and Orthodox shul it is, with the occasional exception, pretty easy for someone as ritually literate as I am to know what it’s acceptable to do and not do.
So, fanny pack lady, despite the look of disgust on your face, it was perfectly non-obvious that what I was doing was wrong in any way.
If I can’t write in your shul, please have a sign made to go along with your no cell phones sign. How else is anyone to know what is appropriate? (Or, dare I say, allowed?)
I do not think that what you are asking is too much but in this particular case of ST at BJ, where would you hang the signs? What if there were signs and you didn’t see them amid the dancing etc…? Would you still feel this way?
On the other hand, perhaps you should inform yourself before attending religious events with a certain community to know what the community standard is. Pluralism does not mean that anyone can do whatever they want because it’s acceptable where they come from. In this regard I think the onus should be on the attendee to have a little common sense, which should not be so hard, when attending services at places that are unfamiliar. In genera, I would say err on the side of caution and don’t wait to be the one they ask to stop doing something.
I sympathize with your desire to visit new exciting shuls and such but maybe you’re not ready if you think the responsibility is in them to warn you. Do some research.
BTW, BJ is nominally Conservative -they’re not affiliated, but I think that that’s pretty generally known (although I have no idea how BJ makes its halachic standards – is it just carried over from their old affiliated days?). Theoretically, CJ allows microphones and music, but not picture taking or writing, so….
KRG-
“Nominally” in what sense? It doesn’t say “Conservative” anywhere on their website or other public materials.
I can think of other reasons besides yom tov issues that they wouldn’t want people taking pictures. E.g., I wouldn’t be surprised if they also frown on taking pictures at weekday minyan. That doesn’t apply to writing, though.
I think the problem here is not the lack of signs, but the lack of charm and tact and the look of disgust. I’m not sure your “non-standard standards” criteria for signs is all that helpful– most of the signs that I’ve seen are for “standard” standards, to help out people who would have no way of knowing that picture taking or writing is frowned on in any shul. Frankly, the signs are usually not that visible or clear. But a friendly smile and “please”, as well as a brief explanation, go a long way.
where would you hang the signs?
I’d hang them in the entryway. There are a number of no cell phone signs out there so they would fit right in.
…perhaps you should inform yourself before attending religious events with a certain community to know what the community standard is…. I think the onus should be on the attendee to have a little common sense…
Perhaps I should inform myself before attending, but once you generalize to “the onus should be on the attendee,” you’re on slippery ground. This assumes that BJ attendees would even know to check. My impression, especially at this particular event, is that there were many people there from a very very very wide range of backgrounds. This would indicate that none of this is “common sense” to a number of them. To place the onus on a group of people who have Jewish backgrounds and levels of knowledge we don’t know anything about is to assume, and you know what they say about that…
There is no slippery slope. This event is actually a very bad example. It’s out doors, very loud, festive and as you say attracts people from a “very very wide range of backgrounds”. I was not placing the onus on them simply on you. I believe that it is common sense to you.
Don’t be davka just to be davka, ya know?
Did you just call me what I think you did by the way? Time to grow up sir.
i don’t think it was directed at you, personally, uzi, but used in a general sense.
what I want to know is, what are you writing in the margins of your siddur? why does it have to be done there? why can’t you do it at home?
uzi, the event was not outside, but indoors. It’s common sense to me not to write in an Ortho shul, but I don’t make any assumptions in a Conservative shul, much less in a former C-shul that have been unaffiliated for many years such as BJ. The only assumption I was making was that one guy quite literally off in a corner minding his own business wouldn’t offend anyone by studying his siddur. This assumption, in fact, did make an ass out of me.
And uzi, can we stop assuming that everything around here is intended in an angry way. I was using that saying as a joke. So check your condescension at the url por favor.
It strikes me as a bit chutzpadik to come into a community, violate their norms, and complain that they offended you.
Justin, I mark all kinds of things in my siddur. In this case, I was marking the date and place, the different groups called up for the different hakafot, underlining comments and lines of prayer I found particularly interesting and probably more. Oddly, I think I was doing a lot less writing than I usually do when my siddur is around.
And why can’t I do it at home? Because I like to write down every little thought and if I wait, I’ll forget, which is something I’m very nervous about.
Ruti, I can definitely see that point. However, it’s not like I’m an interloper. A shul–especially a hip, popular, liberal one like BJ–has open doors. If standards don’t conform to a known norm–and maybe even if they do–some sympathy toward outsiders would be a welcome addition. This is especially true on a night like Simchat Torah when BJ knows that they have a very popular service that draws people from many backgrounds.
I think it’s totally reasonable to complain about a rude, unwelcoming attitude.
have you ever considered that the need to be with a pen and to write down every single thought might get in the way of participating in a communal experience?
Justin, yes, I have considered that. But it’s a bit like asking, “Have you considered that focusing too intensely on your own prayer might get in the way of participating in a communal experience?” It’s part of how I pray and interact with ritual.
If I can’t do it in some places, I’ll live. I’m just asking for clear signage.
The real thing getting in the way of my participating in this particular event is my discomfort joining in the dancing. However, I was focused while I was writing on the ritual experience at hand, albeit in a different way from those who were dancing. Yet, I don’t see anyone questioning the people who sat out for a hakafah or two to chat with friends around the side of the room.
I’m not saying I didn’t do that. On the contrary, I did plenty of it. I’m just saying that I can’t imagine that what I do while I’m taking notes is any more self-separating than what people are doing while they shmooze.
As an aside, the woman who de-penned me was mostly chatting around the margins of the room too.
I think the key issue is communal impact. Communities have standards, that’s fine, but they should be about things of _communal_ concern. Mics, flashbulbs, etc. are public, they alter the communal space. Writing in your Machzor or Siddur is private (even of it’s happening in a public space). I think both the Hadar guy and the BJ woman were just wrong to ask you to stop your private prayer practice so as to conform to communal norms. What I am suggesting is not pluralism, it’s common decency and respect for the different ways _individuals_ relate to prayer.
@DAMW
I wasn’t assuming that everything here is directed in an angry way, only what you said. Sorry for taking it the wrong way – I didn’t find it funny. Apologies also for coming off condescending. You are a young guy and I appreciate that you are exploring your Jewish life in serious ways and sharing your thoughts here and other places on the interwebs. Keep exploring and nurturing your individuality but just be aware that that sometimes will come into tension with being part of a community.
More to the point, I think your assumptions about what is and is not acceptable in various ritual spaces defined by movement affiliation or former affiliation is a little off the mark. I applaud and admire that you want to make a physical record of what you see and think during tfilah especially when you are in a setting that may be new or unfamiliar. Really I do. But I have to agree with Ruti here that it’s a “bit chutzpadik to come into a community, violate their norms, and complain that they offended you.”
So a more pointed question: What is the object of your frustration? Not being able to write in your siddur, not having proper signs that tell you how to behave, or that someone was rude about it?
I’ve been at congregations that provide instructions to visitors on appropriate etiquette — whether through signage, or on the service-sheet handouts, or even from the bimah — please remove your talit before entering the restroom, please silence your cellphone, whatever. On the other hand, these congregations don’t have signs in the restrooms, Please flush the toilet. They assume that’s something they can take for granted their visitors know. (I remember when synagogues had signs forbidding smoking on Shabbat. Today if there are smoking signs, they’re more likely to forbid it at any time.)
Regardless of denomination, or ritual stringency, I can’t envision a congregation that would anticipate the need to caution visitors about taking notes or writing in a siddur, be it Shabbat, Yom Tov, or yom chol. Whether it would be construed as a forbidden activity on the occasion, or defacing a holy book (which some would find offensive regardless of the ownership of the book), it’s just not something that happens often enough to be on the alert for violators. (Can we call it a marginal practice?)
Although it might not be derech eretz in a permissive environment to reprimand a visitor, it would be reasonable to assume that a visitor would have the derech eretz to anticipate that, in any synagogue environment, someone might find certain behaviors offensive, and thus to abstain. They use a microphone and therefore I assume that I can use a pen just doesn’t hold up as a very good argument.
At the risk of sounding didactic, David, you need to refresh your assumptions. You should assume that writing or any other “traditional” halachic violation of Shabbat is not okay in a Conservative synagogue on Shabbat. Electricity (and other concepts that weren’t around when the Shabbat halacha was starting to crystallize) is a more complicated issue, but it doesn’t follow any kind of logic that because a synagogue uses microphones, then anything goes, and at this point in your exploration of different kinds of Judaism, you probably have already learned that.
I hear you on the specific case of BJ being sort of nebulous because of their lack of affiliation, but a general rule of thumb that has served me well is to assume that if a synagogue is not explicitly Reform, then they are more likely than not to at least give lip service to the 39 melachot (whether or not they could use that term or name them).
CoA, word.
uzi,
Apologies also for coming off condescending.
That’s a funny thing to preface a string of condescension with. I know what you said in this comment doesn’t strike you as condescending, but I think there’s a proportional relationship between age and the ability identify condescension.
Especially odious: be aware that that sometimes will come into tension with being part of a community.
Thanks. Do you think I’m just flapping my fingers on a keyboard with no clue as to what any of the implications are? That tension is exactly what I’m writing about here. I’m not so self-absorbed–appearances to the contrary–that I can’t see that.
What is the object of your frustration? Not being able to write in your siddur, not having proper signs that tell you how to behave, or that someone was rude about it?
A very good question. All are objects of my frustration. However, I will list them now in order of descending importance.
The most frustrating thing is not being able to write in my siddur–or feeling like I might be ejected for doing it. It is such a disruption to the way I pray that it really stunts me.
Second is the lack of signage. More generally, I’m frustrated by the proliferation of communities with non-obvious standards and no means of telling outsiders what those standards are.
The relative rudeness or politeness of the people telling me stop is of relatively little importance, though it too is frustrating.
Larry,
I can’t envision a congregation that would anticipate the need to caution visitors about taking notes or writing in a siddur. and They use a microphone and therefore I assume that I can use a pen just doesn’t hold up as a very good argument.
Perhaps writing to microphone is not a one to one logical comparison, but use of a microphone musical instruments and lack of denominational affiliation is enough to cause me to assume that all bets about what is appropriate are off. And if writing is forbidden, can you envision a congregation that would anticipate someone’s attempt to write down the phone number of someone the just met? (Especially Club BJ?)
dlevy,
You should assume that writing or any other “traditional” halachic violation of Shabbat is not okay in a Conservative synagogue on Shabbat.
And I would assume that. But BJ is NOT a Conservative shul. It used to be. Since it used to be, I might assume that normative Conservative observance is still in effect. That is, if they didn’t use musical instruments.
Everyone, at the end of the day, I’m left wondering why anyone would go out of their way to stop one guy from taking notes off in a corner.
If not being able to write is “a great disruption of how you pray” you aren’t engaging in Jewish prayer-period.
It’s not at all uncommon for Conservative shuls to hold that musical instruments are permitted but melacha including writing isn’t. So seeing musical instruments really ought not to be an indication that all bets are off.
I’ve never been to a C-shul with musical instruments. I’m not saying I think you’re lying, I’m just saying I’ve never seen it. And if it’s out there, I think it must be pretty uncommon. So for me, it really was an indication that all bets are off.
Not to sound too full of myself, but if a guy as ritually literate as I am can’t parse these assumptions and standards, that only further proves the need for signage.
It’s been many years since I’ve been to B’nai Jeshurun in Cleveland, but back in the days when it was Conservative congregation The Temple on the Heights, they had an organ there, and my cousin Idell played the violin at my cousin Esther’s wedding there.
And I’m pretty sure Anshe Emet Synagogue in Chicago has an organ. I don’t know if their cantorial soloist (they also have invested chazzanim) Naomi plays her guitar there, but she certainly does when she sings at Beth Emet (Reform, always careful to give folks an option to not use a microphone when they are speaking on Shabbat).
While BJ does not identify itself denominationally, its website does stipulate kippot for men, which is a pretty good indication that Reform laissez-faire is not operative…so all bets are not off. Jotting down someone’s telephone number would probably not take place during the service, and even if it did, would be momentary enough that by the time an enforcer came over to ask that the scribe desist, the action would most likely be over. In a Reform congregation, it’s very possible that no one would say anything, but it is totally certain that there would be people who, if they saw someone writing, would be offended.
DAMW-
It is WAY more common than you think, especially off the coasts. It became so common, in fact, that the CJLS even ruled that instruments are permissible and one reason presented is that they are already in use (previously CJLS tolerated it but never approved of it)
Why isn’t anyone (other than DAMW) dealing with the substantive difference between public standards reguarding public practices and public standards regarding private ones? Most of the comments seem to be about the relationship between denominational affiliation and halachic permissibility. That is not the issue here at all. What is at issue is a twisted sense of the role of “standards” in promoting personal and communal practice (and the difference between the two of them).
DAMW
Someone of more experience giving advice to someone of less experience is not always condescending.
“Do you think I’m just flapping my fingers on a keyboard with no clue as to what any of the implications are?”
Yes, I think most of your posts are about you and your own religious journey.
I repeat what I commented above – grow up sir (read this time with condescension).
@DAvid:
Conservative shuls – there may be one exception out there, but I don’t know of it- don’t permit writing or other melacha. There are some that permit musical instruments, and a lot that permit microphones. I would make the assumption that a CJ shul does not permit writing or taking pictures.
OTOH:
-The person was rude to you, which is not acceptable in any interpretation of halacha
-Many shuls do, in fact, post their requests not to have cameras, phones or writing implements (mine posts the first two, although I don’t think we mention the third – I suppose it hadn’t occurred to anyone that we might need to). It doesn’t do any harm to post, and overall is a good idea, although I note that by and large those signs – as well as the verbal requests made by the rabbis, pretty much go ignored, whereas direct requests from a person sitting next to seem to get a better response – sometimes. I have made a polite request now and then followed by a glare and being ignored.
-It’s hard for people to gauge how to make the request to follow the halachic norms of the community. Does one ask directly and then what if one is ignored – then one has violated rebuking someone who won’t hear the rebuke. Should one just let it go on? Then it’s uncomfortable for those of us that are concerned with such things. Even pointing out the signs doesn’t seem to always help. People will decide that “please don’t use phones in the building” really means, “please don’t use phones in the sanctuary,” or, “please feel free to use phones in the stairwell”
If I say, “It’s our custom here, not to use phones or cameras (or to let children use crayons, or to wait for the elevator to stop on the floor on its own, or whatever), can you please wait until later?”, people seem to get just as upset as if I glared at them and told them they would burn in hell.
So sometimes I just don’t say anything, which isn’t so great, either.
KRG writes:
@DAvid:
Conservative shuls – there may be one exception out there, but I don’t know of it- don’t permit writing or other melacha. There are some that permit musical instruments, and a lot that permit microphones. I would make the assumption that a CJ shul does not permit writing or taking pictures.
David was already making that assumption re Conservative shuls. However, BJ is not a Conservative shul.
BTW, Adas Israel in DC, a big Conservative shul, definitely allows the use of organ, piano and guitar. Very few people seem to like the services in which any of those are present, but it’s clearly permitted.
I wouldn’t try jotting down someone’s phone number there though, even during ruach minyan.
David, just because BJ is no longer affiliated with USCJ doesn’t mean you should assume all bets are off halakhically. I believe they left over one or two specific issues(or the fact that USCJ affiliation is expensive with minimal benefit), but just because they dropped affiliation doesn’t mean they changed all halakhic practices. As other have said, music and microphones are common in big box suburban Conservative shuls, but writing, cooking, and other non-prayer related Shabbat issues are still very much frowned on.
Would you have assumed you could walk into BJ and eat a BLT sandwich? Or bring in bread on Passover? I don’t know what your personal stance is on those issues, but I would hope you would realize that they would be considered inappropriate. Similarly writing is inappropriate. I think you’ve fallen too much into a strict observance or total non-observance dichotomy. Just because there are musical instruments doesn’t mean everything goes.
CoA said,
Most of the comments seem to be about the relationship between denominational affiliation and halachic permissibility. That is not the issue here at all. What is at issue is a twisted sense of the role of “standards” in promoting personal and communal practice (and the difference between the two of them).
Thank you!
uzi said,
Yes, I think most of your posts are about you and your own religious journey.
I think so too. But I also think that I conceive of my religious journey as taking place amid a range of communities that are potential places for me settle into one day. Part of the point of this post is that I want to visit a lot of different places on my journey and when I visit them, I’d like to know what that standards are when I arrive.
I repeat what I commented above – grow up sir (read this time with condescension).
Well, I appreciate the notification this time 🙂
BZ said,
David was already making that assumption re Conservative shuls. However, BJ is not a Conservative shul.
BZ, do you every get the feeling that we’re repeating ourselves?
Avi said,
I think you’ve fallen too much into a strict observance or total non-observance dichotomy. Just because there are musical instruments doesn’t mean everything goes.
I hope I haven’t fallen into such a dichotomy, given that I think of myself as a breaker of it.
Everyone, I am NOT at all saying that the microphone is an indication that there is no Shabbat observance. I am saying that it is an indication that there is not Orthodox-style Shomer Sabbat going on in that community. That means that a standard set of rules is probably not in place. Clearly, no one else here would reach that conclusion. However, in the moment, it is the conclusion that I reached.
And once again–big thanks to CoA for joining me on this one–it is an issue of personal standards versus communal standards. IF the reason musical instruments and amplification are allowed is that they enhance the spiritual experience of the community, why is my writing–which, as I’ve said, enhances my spiritual experience without interfering with anyone else’s–not allowed?
I’m really uncomfortable with the idea that communities should be criticized for having their own standards. If people were rude to you, well, then that’s a halachic and moral problem. But both microphones and instruments can be halachically justified, particularly on yom tov. Furthermore, even if they weren’t, the community still has a right to their own standards. If BJ doesn’t want writing or photography, I can understand it. And, if heaven forbid, they didn’t make appropriate signage before yom tov, I understand why people would verbally inform newcomers of those standards. I mean, seriously. You weren’t thrown out. You weren’t dragged up in front of the kahal and made an example of. You were asked to abstain from writing.
At my schul, the building is shomer Shabbat. People who use cell phones or pull out a pen on Shabbat are politely told to put them away. It sucks that your preferred method of prayer is in conflict with a common Shabbat observance. But, would it really be that difficult for you to approach someone BEFORE taking out your pen and asking if writing was permitted in that community on Shabbat and/or Yom Tov? If I’m in an unfamiliar surrounding and am unsure if women wear tallitot, that’s what I usually do. I figure that it’s pretty rude of me to come to a new community and suddenly expect them to accept my standards. I would be pretty upset if someone walked into my community and demanded a mechitza. Or to be permitted to write on Shabbat in our building.
I don’t know why BJ pulled out of USCJ, and Avi’s suggestion that affiliation was expensive with minimal benefit may have been a spoken reason. Note however that congregations that are not part of the national movements with which they otherwise identify get many of the benefits without paying for them. But note too that BJ not only is no longer a member of USCJ, but it no longer identifies itself as Conservative, Masorti, or with any other approach. Also note that 2 of its three rabbis were ordained at HUC, not JTS.
Ergo, I repeat what I said before, writing in a siddur during services is not anything that would be sanctioned or approved in any synagogue, although the disapproval might not be reflected in any effort to stop it. (Our Reform congregation is often visited by non-Jewish students assigned to attend from their religion class at the neighboring university. Whether they have been alerted by their professor or figure it out for themselves, I have never seen any of them taking notes during services.)
I was also accosted by the ritual police in BJ that night for not wearing a kipah. I hate it.
Why does it matter what I (or David, et al) do by myself, affecting only me? This is a very stupid part of the interpretation of Jewish ritual to me. If you don’t use phones on Shabbat, then you don’t need to deprive others of theirs. If you don’t write, then why on earth does it matter that David chose to do so, off in a discrete corner no less? Keep your minhag off my body.
Let’s say a person who adheres closely to orthodox practice is standing in a field with other people. What is the shomer shabbat radius around this person, within which they expect others to practice the same? 10 meters? 20 meters? 50 meters unless beyond line-of-sight? Perhaps the shomer zone is only within the present room. Or as typical, within the whole building if in a shul, JCC or Jewish home.
I keep Shabbat, but I don’t need other people in my presence to keep shabbat for me or in the same way I do.
I am NOT at all saying that the microphone is an indication that there is no Shabbat observance. I am saying that it is an indication that there is not Orthodox-style Shomer Sabbat going on in that community. That means that a standard set of rules is probably not in place. Clearly, no one else here would reach that conclusion. However, in the moment, it is the conclusion that I reached.
I grew up in a shul that uses a microphone. They also recently (5770) started incorporating music into some of their services. But they don’t allow photos on Shabbat or holidays.
I think the take-away here is two-fold.
a) If you, as a guest in a community, do know that certain behavior can offend, be judicious in doing it. Do research before you go, or ask people while there. Be nice – you’re a guest.
b) If you, as a community member, see someone doing something out of line with your community’s standards, treat them with respect. Inform them of your community’s standards privately and explain why it’s an issue. Be nice – they’re a guest.
KFJ-
There’s a huge difference between creating a space with public standards for your community and requiring everyone around you to adhere to those standards. It’s about basic respect when you’re a visitor to those communities. I agree that sometimes the people who try to enforce those standards can be overzealous. But if you don’t like the standards of a certain community, then just don’t go to that community. It’s really quite simple.
Maybe it’s because I live in a city with a smaller Jewish population. I don’t live in New York. It’s not particularly easy to find a space and a community to be an observant Jew here. So maybe there’s some nuance that I’m not understanding. But I just can’t understand why a community would be in the wrong for trying to uphold the religious standards in their community spaces. Not all public spaces. But theirs.
Also, 100%, what Charles wrote.
Shoshie — You’ve missed my point, but only by a little. Why is “your community” defined as people who look, do and act like you? Why does a shul require that guests, non-Jews and the differently observant adopt traditions, rituals and practices that aren’t theirs solely for your own edification? I press you on this because I really don’t understand why others near you must behave as you. Your covenant with God is your own, not someone else’s.
When I enter BJ’s space, I abide by their rules. But why do Jews at large expect their spaces to be religious homogenous? Not for any legitimate reason I’ve seen.
Take for example: Throwing stones at a car driving through Mea Shearim in Jerusalem on Shabbat is the EXACT SAME principle at play as a grumpy lady in Bnai Jeshurun putting a kipah on my head. It shouldn’t matter to her or them what I choose to do.
KFJ-
I see what you’re saying now. I agree that the same principle is at play in your two scenarios, but I think there’s a big difference between a public street and a private building. There’s also a world of difference between stoning a car and putting a kipah on someone’s head, or asking them to wear a kipah.
I think there are a couple factors at play here. There are practical reasons to enforce homogenous observances within a synagogue, like for kashrut purposes. No open food, except for raw ingredients, is allowed in my synagogue’s kitchen in order to maintain a high standard of kashrut that allows pretty much anyone in our community to eat there. For Shabbat observance, obviously that’s not an issue. However, I think that maintaining a shomer Shabbat space enhances the holiness of that space on Shabbat and the general “feel” of things on Shabbat. It may not directly affect me to have someone talking on their cell phone in the hallway, but it would change the atmosphere to turn the hallway into a place for cell phone conversations from its current status as a place for children to run around and for kibbitzers to congregate. Obviously, writing notes is not as disruptive as a cell phone conversation, but I think it falls under this last category. There is more-or-less consensus within my community that, although people are at different places in their observance, it is most ideal to be rigorous in that area. People are actively encouraged to wear tallit and tefillin, to daven regularly, to observe kashrut, to observe Shabbat and holidays, to learn Torah, to donate to tzeddakah, and so on. Although people follow their own practices in their own homes and in public streets, the synagogue, as the community center, is held to that ideal out of respect for that space, the community standards, and to serve as an example of our values, even if individuals may not personally practice Judaism in that way. FYI, another part of my community’s values is openness and acceptance, and I’ve never seen anyone shunned or mocked because of their practice outside the synagogue or their appearance within the synagogue. When I first turned up in Seattle, I had bright blue hair, and got a number of compliments.
Shoshie,
I’m really uncomfortable with the idea that communities should be criticized for having their own standards.
I’m sorry if I’ve been unclear. I’m not criticizing the standards themselves. I’m criticizing the fact that the standards themselves seemed unclear to me. As it turns out, everyone here thinks I’m dumb for not knowing what to do, but that’s another matter.
KFJ18, WORD.
David-
I totally get what you’re saying. And I don’t think that you were terrible and wrong for writing in the first place. I’m just unsure why it’s inappropriate for someone in the community to verbally inform a newcomer (politely, of course) of those community standards. Looking at your post title, it seems like you did receive a warning. You were breaking some rule, and were told to stop doing it. You weren’t punished or thrown out, just told to stop.
I think that KFJ’s question is a more interesting one. Why are certain community standards enforced over others? How are community standards built and how to they balance the values of the community with being open and accepting others? I think there’s value to both homogeneous and heterogeneous Jewish (and other) communities. But that seems tangential to your original post, which appeared to condemn communities for not communicating those standards to your liking.
@KFJ
Why does it matter what I (or David, et al) do by myself, affecting only me?
Because the impact of your individual actions does not end with YOU. Being part of a community – particularly one where you are a guest – is not about YOU. An individual who joins a congregation expects their freedom of action to be curtailed within certain boundaries, as requested by the community.
Individual actions have an impact on the community as a whole, and it is the community’s prerogative to limit activities that adversely impact the character and values of the community.
You accept this already, KFJ. You wear clothes to shul, I’ll assume, and you don’t “whip it out” in the middle of prayer for a good wank. You would probably be horrified if the guy sitting next to you did so. You are already conforming to certain communal expectations that you agree with. You just don’t see why you should have to conform to expectations that you don’t agree with. But on principle, and you are arguing for the principle here, not a particular action, you already accept limits on individual actions within a communal context.
So, what of actions and behavior that you don’t agree with? It comes down to respect. If you respect the community of individuals you are a part of – or are visiting – you will demonstrate that respect by accepting, even if temporarily and superficially, their values or customs. If you don’t respect this community, or their values, then you should give some thought as to whether it is with the best of intentions that you have you chosen to take part in it.
Thinking about BJ’s Simchat Torah as a “community” is a real stretch.
Victor — No, you missed my point. Why do the organizers of a synagogue demand homogeneity? I’ll ask you the question directly: if you’re shomer shabbes and your friend is using a cell phone next to you, why do you care?
>>“I’ll ask you the question directly: if you’re shomer shabbes and your friend is using a cell phone next to you, why do you care?”
In essence this is the same question as “Why do offices and restaurants and nightclubs have dress codes?” The question is whether or not the content of communal space matters. In many areas of society there seems to be an acceptance that it does.
I hope they make signs for next year, and I hope whomever is speaking to folks about communal policies does so in a respectful way. A quick search of BJ’s website for “write” or “writing” turns up nothing, fwiw.
@KFJ- when my friend next to me is using a cell phone on shabbat during services? Seriously?
In my house, we don’t allow cell phones at the dinner table (or answering land lines, when I was kid and had them), there’s no toys at the table, or books during communal meals (breakfast being the exception for some reason, maybe because people sort of stagger to and from the table and it’s not shared space).
Because shul is a communal space, and in Judaism, prayer is a communal function. Now, BJ with its meat market feel may be difficult to parse this way, but the Jewish piece isn’t one in which everyone goes off and does their own thing – the group is supposed to be there as a unity; that makes each individual in the group and their actions of significant weight. It’s the very basis of Judaism – our prayers are “we.” Thus a person using a cell phone next me, aside from it being rude, is actually removing themselves from the community and becoming an observer, rather than one who contributes to the call to God. That lessens us all.
I could go into the whole thing in the talmud where there are several sugiyot that talk about when a person absents themselves from communal prayer it annoys God; and the reverse as well, one who takes extra care to be involved in prayers benefits and makes God happy, but I think that even without bringing into it the whole God thing, a case can be made – at least at a normal synagogue experience, for it being exceptionally ill mannered to have a phone out. One might be able to make a different case for writing (barring the halachic issues, I mean) since it isn’t as disturbing to the people around one, but it’s still a form of absenting oneself.
I think that what was done to David was rude, but it wasn’t incorrect; it should simply have been done more politely and without glaring. And it would have been helpful, I agree to have signs up – although as I noted before, they don’t seem to really help.
KRG, Larry, and other people opposed to writing during services:
Would you be equally opposed if it were a weekday service?
(Cell phones are certainly equally problematic on a weekday.)
@KFJ18- “Why does it matter what I (or David, et al) do by myself, affecting only me? This is a very stupid part of the interpretation of Jewish ritual to me”
You’re welcome to hold by your own interpretation of Jewish ritual- outside of the shul door. *Inside*, you’re asked to abide by the interpretation set out by the shul’s rabbi or ritual committee- which had been carefully considered according to the needs and desires of its (paying) kehilla. Keep in mind that you are a *guest* of the institution which you are *visiting*. If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave. If you’re a paying member, you can express your views within the structure of the organization.
Keep in mind that you’re in a shul, not a pop-up pluralistic Simchat Torah rave. Don’t make assumptions about its place in the liberal spectrum. If you aren’t sure about whether talking on your phone/ writing in a machsor/ playing a harmonica/ speaking in tongues while executing a perfect flying crow pose is permitted, just ask. Or apologize politely when asked to stop, whether you consider the tone of the request polite or not. Maybe that person had asked 10 other people nicely and you were the unlucky 11th that showed up just as their patience wore out.
@BZ- writing is probably no problem in a weekday service if it is done discretely and doesn’t distract others (and is put on hold during the amidah).
But doesn’t the “if it doesn’t distract others” condition beg the question?
Would you be writing quietly, or making loud scratching noises with a pencil? Erasing vigorously? Re-reading your comments in a stage whisper? If not, write on. Normal rules of derech eretz would seem to apply here.
@BZ: I would certainly object to a cell phone at any time. Writing – well, I think it’s not a great idea, but as there’s no halachic issue, if we were at a shul and someone was inconspicuously taking a few notes, probably not. Or, at least, let’s say,I wouldn’t have grounds to go over and insist that the person join the community of prayer, and as there’s no community standard being broken, I can disapprove all I want, but I don’t really have grounds to say anything.
I might, however, offer to show them the correct page number.
politely and with a smile, of course
What if you overheard someone quietly saying “Modim modim” in his/her silent Amidah? That’s clearly forbidden by halachah.
JJ, KRG, Eric and Victor — You’ve all missed the point, so read closely. JJ and KRG, forget being in someone else’s space. Eric this isn’t about common societal norms like wearing clothes (enforced by public law, I might add), this is about voluntary religious practices (and for which there are laws protecting the public AGAINST involuntary enforcement).
I think it’s a foolish principle of our religion that communities must be homogenous and that individuals must take offense if someone near is isn’t practicing as we practice. WHY do we believe (if you do) that non-believers, non-Jews or differently-observant must adopt your practice to be a part of YOUR community? Meaning, in your home, in your shul, near you on your hag days. It’s a shame to me that your religion has taught you to discourage difference and define sacred space as one in which everyone behaves the same, which is how this all comes off to me.
In another paradigm, if someone must step outside in the foyer of the synagogue to make a phone call, so long as they are not overhead in the sanctuary, why should others care? If someone wishes to pray but finds kipot annoying or distracting to prayer, when should you take it personally if they doff it? It seems beyond any community’s jurisdiction to me to invade the sacred space of another human being’s privacy, agency and freedom from and of religion, even when in my space. If eating pork is my community’s minhag, then I can’t force an Orthodox believer to eat pork while in my shul. At best, you can invite someone politely to participate. If they demure, you can opt to not take it personally.
I’m just against commiting the same sins of coercion we complain about elsewhere: how can we here at Jewschool play the Women of the Wall card viz a viz the ultra-Orthodox monopoly at the Western Wall when we do the same in our spaces? Where do we differ from modesty patrols in Mea Shearim? How is this any different than forcing halakha on all of Jerusalem, including no public transporation, hametz fines on Pesach, et al.? It’s the same thing to me.
KFJ, the difference is between public and private spaces. BJ is a private space and should be able to set their own standards. They are not a pluralistic institution where everything goes. If the Rabbi/Religious Committee/Board decides that writing is forbidden on Shabbat/Chag then they are free to encourage that behavior of their members and enforce it within their space for everyone.
Kol Zimrah set a policy that their potlucks are dairy. If someone shows up and says it is important for his Shabbat observance to have meat at dinner, he would be informed that his practice falls outside of the community standards and he would be asked to refrain from eating meat at the dinner. Creating a policy on writing/kippot is no different and in some ways is much less problematic for institutions that don’t even claim to be pluralistic.
Kol Zimrah set a policy that their potlucks are dairy. If someone shows up and says it is important for his Shabbat observance to have meat at dinner, he would be informed that his practice falls outside of the community standards and he would be asked to refrain from eating meat at the dinner.
I’m not sure someone who brought meat for his own consumption would be asked not to eat it; he would just be asked to keep it off the potluck tables, so as not to lead others astray.
Paying kehilla? I’m sorry, I thought shuls were supposed to like guests.
Good explanation, Avi.
@KFJ18: I didn’t miss the point. I disagree with you.
@Amit: Good guests respect their hosts. The people who pay for the lights, the repairs and the staff get to make the rules. As Avi correctly stated, a shul is a private space, sort of like a home. If you were to come to my house on Shabbat and pull out a cell phone, I would ask you to bring it outside so as not to disturb the Shabbat environment that my family creates in our own space. If you don’t like the policy, you may leave- but you have no right to rail against my imposition of KFJ18’s “voluntary religious practices” or to accuse me of not liking guests.
KFJ, as you may remember, I go to a Chabad shul. I don’t think we have a committee making decisions about observance standards, and all sorts of Jews walk through the door. Certainly it’s not unusual to hear a cell phone on Shabbos or high holidays, or to see Jews doing various things when they don’t know better. I don’t remember anyone getting upset over this kind of stuff. It’s more embarrassment for the person for the person doing those things.
At the same time, you would have to be pretty dense to not understand what is and is not acceptable behavior. People who have never kept Shabbos learn surprisingly fast that when their cell phone rings, everyone’s eyes go to the floor, the ceiling, the window, anywhere but at them.
These are people who don’t know better. You and DAWM know better, or you should. Again, it comes down to respect. If you respect the community, you will adapt your behavior accordingly, even superficially and temporarily. If it didn’t even enter your mind that your behavior may cause an adverse reaction from the community, maybe you should consider your lack of sensitivity. At my shul, no one is going to escort a jew out unless they’re doing something really outrageous, but perhaps what I consider outrageous and what you do are two separate things. We’ve had a friend who had too much to drink be disruptive on the men’s side and no one paid him attention. He then went over to the women’s side while they were davening and at that point we dragged him out of shul for some air and a talking to.
That brings up the kind of point you’re making though. If you come to a shul with a mehitza, and you sit with the women, not because you don’t know any better, bit because you do, should this be allowed? In my shul, it won’t be. No matter how welcoming and pluralistic our community is, there are red lines, as there are in every community, including yours.
Shoshie,
I’m just unsure why it’s inappropriate for someone in the community to verbally inform a newcomer (politely, of course) of those community standards.
There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sorry if I was unclear and made it seem like that was part of my point. However, plenty of people, when empowered to inform newcomers of communal norms, get all kinds of bizarre notions about their own self-importance and end up being perfectly impolite about it.
Wouldn’t it just be easier if there were signs?
But that seems tangential to your original post
Welcome to blogging.
Victor,
You wear clothes to shul, I’ll assume, and you don’t “whip it out” in the middle of prayer for a good wank.
I’d like to officially nominate this in the category of Greatest Jewschool Comment Ever.
BZ,
Thinking about BJ’s Simchat Torah as a “community” is a real stretch.
Word. Part of what may be hard to get about this conversation for those who’ve never spent a Simchat Torah on the UWS of Manhattan is that a great many people go to shuls they would never ordinarily go to. BJ is, unless they’re really out of it, totally aware of the pluralistic nature of the crowd they attract on Simchat Torah.
JJ,
writing is probably no problem in a weekday service if it is done discretely and doesn’t distract others (and is put on hold during the amidah).
Why must it be put on hold during the Amidah? I know there are halachic issues, but what if I don’t take three steps forward at the beginning? What if I stand with my feet apart? The direction we’re headed in at this point is disturbingly halachah-police-y or kiruv-y.
KRG,
Writing – well, I think it’s not a great idea, but as there’s no halachic issue, if we were at a shul and someone was inconspicuously taking a few notes, probably not.
In an inquisitive tone, rather than an angry one: Why don’t you think it’s “a great idea”?
KFJ,
how can we here at Jewschool play the Women of the Wall card viz a viz the ultra-Orthodox monopoly at the Western Wall when we do the same in our spaces?
Amen!
JJ,
While I am very sensitive to the difference between missing the point and disagreeing, I think you actually have missed the point. Your comment @Amit indicated that you believe the KFJ’s argument to be about the right (or lack thereof) of a community to define what is acceptable in their communal space.
This is not what KFJ is talking about. This is a subtle distinction, but he does not think communities don’t have such a right. Rahter, he is asking why communities choose to exercise that right in the way that they do.
DAMW writes:
BJ is, unless they’re really out of it, totally aware of the pluralistic nature of the crowd they attract on Simchat Torah.
Diversity and pluralism are not the same thing. BJ attracts a diverse crowd on Simchat Torah (as does Victor’s Chabad shul), but whether or not that space is pluralistic is up to BJ.
However, plenty of people, when empowered to inform newcomers of communal norms, get all kinds of bizarre notions about their own self-importance and end up being perfectly impolite about it.
Just to be clear, I agree with that. Around here we call such people zealots, tongue in cheek. Part of being involved in a close-knit community is the intimate understanding you develop about others, their strength and weaknesses, including in their avoda. It’s hard to be a self-righteous zealot when everyone remembers the last time you pooped your pants, so to speak. This doesn’t mean there aren’t standards, or expectations for proper conduct in shul, simply that they’re enforced with communal consent and humility, not a “Shul Defender” mentality.
Victor and JJ: Guys, you’re killing me. You’re either ignoring my question or it’s flying over your head. WHY do you NEED guests or members of your community to behave EXACTLY like YOU? Are you afraid God will punish you and your community for his or her indiscretions? Do you believe that your practice is the only correct one and that other people need to follow suit? Even KRG’s very poetic reason fails to describe why being different is somehow offensive to others.
WHY do your communities draft and enforce rules upon guests, non-Jews and the differently observant? WHY is it important to do so?
I’m beginning to assume you don’t have a reason.
Why do you believe that you can come into someone else’s space and expect them to let you do whatever you want? Do you have the right to dictate to *them* what their communal hashgacha/ level of kashrut/ expectation of halachic respect- should be, and on whom they should enforce it?
I do have a reason. It’s pretty simple and you’re probably not going to like it: a shul- a private institution- has the right to maintain an environment which is in line with and facilitates its established type of communal worship atmosphere.
It’s clear you’ve got a major chip on your shoulder, and I’m sorry for you.
JJ- KFJ isn’t positing that schuls shouldn’t be allowed to dictate their community standards. Clearly they are private spaces and are allowed to do what they want. And, from the guest’s and the host’s side, it all comes down to derech eretz. That doesn’t seem to ridiculous to me. But what KFJ’s asking is if it’s a good thing to enforce religious standards on others within private spaces. Not if we can, but whether and why it’s desirable to do so. That’s a much more nuanced question.
I believe very strongly that it’s important to have pluralistic and non-pluralistic spaces. I like having my shomer shabbat spaces. It’s hard to be an observant Jew, and it’s good to be surrounded by people who, at least at the moment, have taken on the same restrictions that you have. It’s a shot at not feeling “other” within a community. I semi-regularly go to events at a pluralistic young adult group in my city. I always feel kind of awkward because I’m constantly aware that I’m one of the most observant people there. Having enforced community standards puts everyone on somewhat even ground in the community. I think that helps makes particular communities stronger. Though you can certainly build strong community without it.
I totally support their right to do it, JJ, but I want to know why it’s important. You have no idea why, do you?
You’re lumping together different approaches to crafting behavioral conformance within a communal setting. However, taking that aside and focusing on your general question of why behavioral conformance is a goal of communities, I have two points. The first relates to the internal conformance processes at work within communities. The second pertains to the treatment of guests or communal outsiders.
Point 1: The internal
For people who choose to join and participate in a community, particularly one where members share intellectual or theological beliefs, or seek to share such beliefs, behavioral conformance is crucial to thoroughly internalizing the system of communal belief. To be crude, prolonged behavioral conformance is a method of, in this case voluntary mental conditioning.
Jews in general and Chassidim in particular believe that the soul – the G-dly soul and the animal soul – express themselves through the body in the garments of thought, speech and action. Thought is the most amorphous of the three, the least tangible and physical, and also the most difficult to reign in. It is not a simple thing to control one’s thoughts. Control, in this sense, means not to restrain oneself from acting out a thought, but to prevent an unseemly thought from developing at all. If one could thus control their thoughts (within a Jewish context) they would be a tzadik, a perfectly righteous person. If you never think to sin, you will never speak loshon hora and you will never act out a prohibition. Thoughts are the root from which the rest of ourselves are expressed.
Speech is more tangible than thought. To speak something is to more fully actualize it in the physical world than merely to think it. Yet, once spoken, speech does not generally persist (except in the thoughts of the speaker and listener), although it has a capacity for persisting (in the thoughts speech and action of those who heard the speech). Actions have a physical permanance which neither thought nor speech can match. Of the three garments, actions are most rooted in the physical, and most capable of permanently transforming the physical world.
The challenge of an individual who wishes to become more sensitive to and observant of the tenets of our faith is how to transform our thoughts, speech and action for good. There’s a how-to guide, written several hundred years ago, which explains how to do this in a systematic way – called the Tanya – so I won’t get into the particulars. In psychological terms, what this all amounts to is behavioral modification. When a behavior – thought, speech and action – is deemed unwanted, at the time it is initiated there is a conscious recognition, arrest and reversal, until suppressing the behavior becomes routine and passes into the subconscious. I’ll give an example.
Having sexual partners outside of marriage contradicts the Jewish faith, for reasons I won’t get into here. According to the system of soul-expression outlined previously, the final act of sexual intercourse – which is prohibited – is premised on multiple preceding behaviors. From a man’s perspective, first, you see a man or woman that you like. You think to yourself, “they’re attractive”. The seed is planted. You speak to them and discover they’re a good conversationalist (or whatever), which reinforces the original thought. Finally you touch them, kiss them, etc., which reinforces the thought and speech. Rinse, repeat and you end up sleeping with them.
Suppose you decide to become a baal teshuvah and end this practice of sleeping with people outside of marriage. How do you do so? When you see an attractive man or woman, your thoughts are conditioned for a specific response. In other words, you WILL think, “they’re attractive”, whether you want to or not. However, you can recognize, arrest and reverse the thought once you’ve had it, preventing yourself from realizing it further through speech or action. Let’s say you can’t do this and you end up speaking about this thought. Let’s say you don’t even speak to the person you saw, but to a friend, about this person who you found attractive. You’ve taken the thought and implanted it more firmly into the physical world. You’ve made the negative outcome more real than it was previously; you’ve brought it closer to fruition. If you recognize, arrest and reverse yourself at the point of speech, you can contain the situation there. Alternatively, you can take actions which further realize the negative outcome you seek to avoid.
Of the three, physical action is the most important – in that the act itself is prohibited, not the thought or the speech – and also most vulnerable to modification, so it becomes the focal point of a baal teshuvah’s efforts. You can’t just stop yourself from thinking unwanted thoughts. Maybe it’s even difficult for you to prevent speaking in such a way that brings closer an unwanted outcome. You have TOTAL control, however, of your physical actions. You can zip your pants back up and leave before you commit an unwanted act, no matter what negative behaviors you participated in which led you to that situation.
How does any of this relate to communal standards? In an inverse way. If the physical act is the most crucial, and the most vulnerable to modification, then an individual who wishes to adopt a system of belief – in a pnimius, fully internalized way – should start by accepting external behaviors which contribute to that internal outcome. In other words, you express on the outside what you wish to become on the inside. Changing yourself internally is very difficult. Changing yourself externally is relatively easy, and will contribute to the process of internal change. If a community which believes certain things dresses a certain way, and you wish to internalize the belief system in that community, then you can begin by dressing as they do, adopting the customs they keep, speaking as they do (and not speaking they way they don’t), etc. With great effort, you will condition yourself to think and believe as they do, which was your voluntary intent all along.
For anyone appalled that someone should choose to brainwash themselves in such a manner – and that’s what behavioral conditioning is, in colloquial terms, brainwashing – consider that you are no less behaviorally conditioned to act and speak and think as you do right now. Back to our example, if the values of a society dictate that having sex with individuals outside of marriage is perfectly normal, then you have been conditioned to think, speak and act according to those norms. The same goes for how you dress, what customs you keep, what products you purchase, etc. We are all behaviorally conditioned in one manner or another. Should an individual choose another value and belief system, such as that in Judaism, they have to undo some of their conditioning, and replace it with alternative conditioning.
This answers why individuals would choose to behave as other members of their community. Absent the spiritual dimension present within a Chassidic (and maybe other) Jewish communities that I’m familiar with, where individuals really do invest themselves in external conformity in an attempt to reach an internal sensitivity, a spiritual ideal, I admit this process can be misconstrued in negative terms. The main point is that we are all conforming to something. The key is to make a conscious decision as to what we wish to conform to, not be dragged along by the social current of our time.
The process of coercing conformance within a community is completely separate from individual efforts at behavioral modification I outlined above. One of the reasons I think Chabad is so successful is that it doesn’t generally seek to impose conformance. Once a value and belief system is presented and seen as attractive to an individual, they will drive their internal change with a rigor and earnestness that no external coercion can impose. However, there are some Jewish communities which believe in coercing conformance, at times quite bluntly, even punitively. My only guess at why they do so is fear, and I see such methods as counter-productive in the short and long term.
Point 2: The external
However, for guests, Jews or otherwise, embracing, temporarily and superficially, the manners and customs of their host community is purely a matter of respect. No one is can or should impose their belief system on a guest, and it is impossible to do so against their will in a modern context, as they are free to leave at any point. Thus, the guest’s voluntary taking on certain behaviors is simply a sign of respect for the community that is hosting them. The guest taking on the behaviors of a community is seen as a sign of respect by that community, not as a sign that the guest has adopted the values and customs of the community.
In that sense, I don’t see the difference between wearing a kippa at a shul you’re visiting where kippas are worn, and taking off your shoes in a home where people take off their shoes upon entering. Your participation with “house rules” is strictly voluntary, but the participation of the “house” in hosting you also voluntary.
KFJ, you seem to imply that by temporarily and superficially accepting the behavioral norms of a community, you are at risk of adopting the intellectual and theological tenets of that community which you don’t agree with. To which I would respond, if you feel your belief system is so threatened by engaging in this experience, consider why that is so, and exercise your voluntary right to exclude yourself from the experience altogether. Certainly, the last time I took off my shoes in a mosque I was visiting did not cause me to become a Muslim, or even to question my faith, but that’s just me. Perhaps your confidence in your own beliefs is sufficiently challenged by temporary, superficial behavioral expressions of respect that you wish to put a fence around your beliefs and prevent such a challenge in the future. You seem to demand that the community accept, temporarily and superficially, your individual customs – in other words, that they should host you and respect you, while you demonstrate a lack of respect for them. Paraphrasing Pirkey Avot, they, the majority may say this to you – “accept my view” – but not you to them.
KFJ (et al),
Please, this isn’t about the broadly accepted societal norm of wearing clothes (i.e. ‘Passengers may not disrobe while the train is in motion’). As I said (“…Why do offices and restaurants and nightclubs have dress codes?”) I’m talking about specific institutions with specific communal spaces in which specific regulations about types of clothing are enforced.
There are many nightclubs, restaurants, etc. that state pretty clearly “No jeans, no sweatshirts, no hoods, no sandals” etc. Others that specify “business formal, business casual, evening wear” etc. Walk in wearing the wrong clothes and you’ll be “notified” of the violation.
This issue goes way beyond only synagogues or specifically religious issues. It directly affects every social space within which specific standards are upheld.
Eric — You don’t know either, do you?
Everyone understands your question. No one accepts your premise.
To play devil’s advocate:
Why can’t it be as simple as: “Certain personal behaviors, even ones entirely acceptable and unremarkable on a public street, can serve to alter the environment of a private communal setting in a way that may be undesirable to the people in charge of that setting”?
It’s certainly the case that dinner feels different in a place where everyone is dressed more formally than somewhere else (even if the places are otherwise identical); I think it’s also the same about a place where no one writes on yom tov (or all men wear kippot, or whatever). The people in charge of that place may wish to foster that feeling; that environment. It may get the restaurant a higher rating in Zagat, or just get their customers to like it more and therefore spend more money or return more often. Similar for a shul.
@David and KFJ: The Western Wall isn’t an Orthodox space, it’s a Jewish one, and it’s not private. That’s why. Inside an O shul,I may not like the mechitza, but if I go in, I’ll sit on the women’s side – or I won’t go. or, I’ll make an issue out of it by not sitting on the womens’ side, but I’ll understand that I’m then making a political gesture, and not simply living in my own personal space.
@David: I agree with you about Victor’s comment. I haven’t sat and chuckled over a comment very often.
@BZ: I don’t think writing is a very good idea during a prayer service even when it’s a weekday and permitted in general, because during a prayer service, one should be trying to drum up some kavannah, which, if one is fixed on being an observer is awfully hard to do.
@KFJ: I think that several people have actually answered your question. I don’t agree with the details of all of the comments, but I think the basic points are sound. Why do shuls (or other places) want visitors and community members to behave in a similar manner? One of those reasons is pedagogy: part of the mission of a synagogue is to teach communal norms and behaviors and to try to raise people to behaving in those ways because religion has a dogmatic mission, which is to help people connect to God in a particular way. In Judaism this includes (in the halachic movements) certain kinds of behavior being favored, and certain kinds being disapproved of. People who go to those places as participants should expect to adhere to those behaviors. Observers who are simply visitors should be prepared to adhere as guests in order not to interfere with the pedagogic mission. If that’s not comfortable, well, there’s lots of start-ups out there, but plenty of room for one more. That’s tougher in communities where there aren’t enough people to just go down the street and start something new, I admit.
I’ll be brutally honest here: Some of these comments I find here come off rather petulant.
I’ll explain why it’s so important to maintain community religious standards. The concept has been described here before, but I’ll put it in words some of you may understand: Kehilla Kedosha. Holy (Set-apart) Community. Where a GROUP of people create a space that, following a common set of rituals, practices, and yes, RESTRICTIONS, enhances the spirituality of its constituents. Those who engage in those practices while adhering to those restrictions can find themselves truly at one with the community spiritually, and the community will be one with them. Don’t follow those practices/restrictions? By deviating, you will have not only placed yourselves at odds with the community, but you will have placed yourselves at odds with its spirituality. It’s not that they’ll look at you funny for being a bit heteropractic – it’s that their spiritual experience has been adversely affected. This isn’t a country club with a behavior code, but a religious space.
No one is forcing you to wear a certain brand of shtreimel, shuckle this way or that way, daven with a certain accent, separate meat and fish, or even, God forbid, vote for Likud. The idea that deferring to a community’s religious standards equals social conformity is patently absurd.
And before anyone speaks, the shul that I currently attend requires all to turn off (or silence) their cellphones during the weekday davening.
>“Eric — You don’t know either, do you?”
—Kung Fu Jew 18 · October 5th, 2010 at 7:13 pm
That’s your whole response?
Actually I thought the answer was so clear that I didn’t need to spell the whole thing out. Which is why I’ve been noting that it’s silly to try to limit this discussion to a synagogue, when the issue in fact spans every social context and organization.
The answer is that communal space matters, and that the definition of communal space indicates the principles that the owners and stakeholders of the space wish to elevate as ideals there. Sometimes those ideals are meant as emblems of identity, and get carried along beyond the space after visitors exit. Sometimes they’re more temporary.
At the very least, the enforcement of standards in a communal space (standards that may be different than those of private space) advises people that there is something of substance taking place here, that loose casualness is inappropriate and unwelcome. That visitors are asked to change themselves in response to the new space….and therefore also open themselves up to explore what the space is offering.
The bottom line is that we’re not islands; and so what happens in the space around us affects our relationship to the space and the purposes to which the space is dedicated and to how we see ourselves within the space. That’s the basic answer in 1 nutshell. But it’s also pretty obvious and I think we all sense it already.
(And interestingly the diversity of communal spaces enables a person to ‘try on’ different identities as he/she moves through them.)
If you think that what goes on around you doesn’t affect your relationship to a space and its values, then we simply disagree.
If you’re against the basic concepts of elevated standards and dedicated spaces, then I can understand why you’d hate the idea of such standards in any communal space. But that goes way beyond the issue of BJ in NYC. It affects every restaurant, every school, every club, every theater, and every group that institutes regulations or requirements upon those who enter its space.
@Eric: And if communal space didn’t matter, then why would anyone bother with all these independant minyans? Just go to the nearest old institution and do whatever.
KRG-
What does that mean?
@BZ: KFJ keeps asking why it bothers anyone that people come to a particular place and do something that isn’t the same practice as those people in that community have defined it. Eric gave what I think is a cogent answer, to which I was adding on – KFJ’s comment implies that the community itself doesn’t need to define what is acceptable behavior, since anyone should be able to come and do whatever they wish (I’m assuming within the bounds of reasonable civility), but forgetting to think about whether those defined behaviors actually set the atmosphere of the place. The way we behave as a group has enormous implications for the atmosphere of the place; even a few visitors coming in and not adhering to those standards can dramatically change it (granted this may not apply well to ridiculously huge places like BJ, but in general it does) (and this is all aside from my point about pedagogy and Victor’s about holiness, both of which are important points).
ANd atmosphere is very important – if it weren’t we would never have had people breaking away because the service at this place or that doesn’t speak to them.
Okay, we’re getting somewhere, but let me summarize the answers I’ve heard:
– This is how it’s always been done.
– It distracts me from prayer when someone is different.
– I like being around people like me.
– Getting everyone to do the same thing is part of creating conducive atmosphere.
Is this correct? Because these are the only reasons I’ve heard in all that commenting. The rest is repetition.
KFJ, two more for your list:
1) It is useful for educational purposes of what the community considers correct behavior.
2) It is useful for encouragement of what the community considers correct behavior.
KFJ, Man, I love you like a brother, but I think you’re making straw men here.
How about Avi’s two (which were more or less my longer posts), plus how I would restate your summaries:
Judaism has traditions which in each community are important to that community.
It is distracting when there are people doing distracting things, or refusing to participate according to local custom (phrasing that as people being different is tendentious. People can choose to participate or not, but actions aren’t precisely identity)
Communities are built of finding ways for people who are different to find a unifying vision (one of the greatest descriptions of a building I ever read was that it had been built of disparate styles but was strangely graceful as if several extremely different people had decided to dress alike and dance in figures– something like that).
I’ll leave the last one alone, since it seems to mostly capture the idea.
What are the boundaries of a community? Shuls have buildings, but what about at a Altshul’s post-shul picnic in the park? A private party in someone’s home? Mea Shearim? It is frowned upon to use phones around or near people who are abstaining from such use. Why? Why is this considered “disrespectful,” even if I’m in a totally public space? If I am in a park full of people who don’t use cell phones because they chose voluntarily to accept that law, they should not expect that others bow to their choices.
Nobody’s been able to satisfactorily explain this value. It appears foundational to people’s understanding of community.
At least in my community, the restrictions in observance are only within the schul building. People come to the Shabbat afternoon picnics with cell phones and no one says a word. Of course other people in a PUBLIC space wouldn’t be bound by the same rules as someone’s religious observance. That’s absurd, and no one here has been arguing that.
But most people, in my experience, still think it’s rude. Which is why I love havurah circles, because those that I inhabit have respect for individuals’ practices in ways that I experienced most shuls discourage.
Well, then we’ll have to agree to disagree, because that hasn’t been my experience. Obviously, it’s problematic to try to enforce community standards in public places. Though, again, if someone is hosting a schul event in their home and their home is one that doesn’t use electricity on Shabbat, I would respect the host if they request that, say, cell phones not be used. Ultimately, it all comes down to respect.
Re: “Nobody’s been able to satisfactorily explain this value. It appears foundational to people’s understanding of community.”
I think I see the source of your perception that nobody has “satisfactorily” explained the value- there’s a strange disconnect going on here. Because it has been explained- many times, in many ways. But our explanations (which can be distilled to one explanation) are based on our fundamental understanding and acceptance of the concept of minhag hamakom. Minhag hamakom doesn’t like narcissism. It doesn’t care if you’ve found a better/ more spiritual/ more enlightened/ more comfortable way of expressing yourself in a Jewish prayer environment. It is not subjective. It protects the setting and its sanctity, for no other reason than it is minhag hamakom and it is the ultimate authority.
Unlike what we’d all probably like to believe, the rights of the individual DO NOT equal the rights of the other individuals who collectively form the community/kehilla. This applies to everyone; this is not the place for anarchy. An individual’s preferences, except in special cases such as the nusach one uses to daven their amidah in a minyan, are not given a special pass. The idea of I’m okay/ you’re okay only works in a setting where all participants have agreed beforehand- and not unilaterally- it’s okay. If the rabbi explains that it’s the minhag hamakom to wear a kippah but guests should do what makes them comfortable, that’s one thing. Otherwise, it’s the accepted norm that everyone (or all men, women optional, whatever…) wears one. Read here for how one reconstructionist congregation worked toward establishing their minhag hamakom regarding music in the shul:
orzaruaeastbay.org/documents/minhag_hamakom_instruments.doc
As for a public setting, if the “makom” has been taken outside, let’s say to a park for a kiddush picnic, the minhagim of the makom would still apply, so eating a cheeseburger at what everyone else understands to be a dairy potluck would be a violation of the established code of conduct. It would be different if the very same members met and ate cheeseburgers and talked on their phones in the same park 5 minutes after everyone left- or moved to an adjacent ballfield away from the kiddush setting with the complete understanding that they were outside the setting and jurisdiction of the makom. Not too classy, but they’d be in their own space.
JJ writes:
As for a public setting, if the “makom” has been taken outside, let’s say to a park for a kiddush picnic, the minhagim of the makom would still apply, so eating a cheeseburger at what everyone else understands to be a dairy potluck would be a violation of the established code of conduct.
No. Bringing a cheeseburger (or even a hamburger) to a dairy potluck and putting it on the potluck table would be such a violation.
I’m sorry, but I disagree. The table doesn’t matter. The setting/place is the issue and the cheeseburger does not belong there if held by someone participating in the kiddush. It’s a different story if a stranger wanders in, not realizing what’s going on- it is a public space, after all. But a participant, even a guest, has an obligation to respect the kehilla’s wishes.
A community might choose to impose that additional constraint, but that’s not fundamental to the definition of a dairy potluck.
JJ, very few occasions am I in a space with other practicing Jews where some committee has decided upon communal norms. Your contributions to this conversation only apply where so. Which is why your repetitions don’t help me, all respect intended.
Although I’m curious how you calculate kehilla zoning in public spaces. It reminds me of the haredi who were told that the airspace above graveyards at 30,000 feet would still impurify Cohen status.
I don’t really get the responses to the cheeseburger issue. If I were at let’s a say a party at some function-type place – not a shul, but maybe a hotel- and it was supposed to be dairy and kosher, and someone walked in eating a cheeseburger, my reaction would be exactly as JJ described: if the person was a stranger who had walked into the wrong party room, I would help them find the correct place; if they were a guest, I would think that that person was horribly, horribly rude. Partially this is because people who observe halakha (or let’s say, I think so,)in theory at least, think there’s some thing holy about doing so, and so violating halakha in such a public way is a way of telling people that you don’t think so, and the person who doesn’t, is going to do what they want regardless ( I do not think this was what David was doing BTW – just to be clear). Nonetheless, even in situations that aren’t religious in nature have some of this quality – if I were at a gathering of alcoholics anonymous, there’s no legal reason for me not to bring in a bottle of vodka and proceed to drink from it, but why would I do such a thing?
KFJ, you may not often be in a space where a committee has established communal norms, but BJ is such a space. No one here has ever suggested that observance should be forced in public. But you are the one who has suggested that BJ should not enforce their standards(pen/kippah) in their own private space.
So the real question is not why do Jews feel the need to enforce communal standards, but why do you insist on treating someone else’s private space like public space.
>>“No. Bringing a cheeseburger (or even a hamburger) to a dairy potluck and putting it on the potluck table would be such a violation….
A community might choose to impose that additional constraint, but that’s not fundamental to the definition of a dairy potluck.”
—BZ · October 7th, 2010 at 5:48 pm
Missing forest for trees.
I don’t think so at all Eric. That is exactly the point, to separate the forest from the trees. Not eating a cheeseburger entails not eating a cheeseburger, and taking steps to ensure it doesn’t traif up the other food. This need not mean that nobody there can eat one, just that they should not impinge on the kashrut of others as they do so. This distinction is important because it helps us think about when the communal enforcement of norms is necessary, and when it is not.