High Holidays Sampler Plate Adventure–Part I: Chazanut with the Chavurah
This series is being crossposted to The Reform Shuckle. Here is the Intro to the series.
I thought about beginning my adventure somewhere new, but all adventures begin somewhere similar. So I headed down to my usual haunt for davening, Chavurat Lamdeinu.
A note on CL before I get into it: CL is an oddity in the indie minyan world. It’s in suburban New Jersey and its members–who have many of the same complaints about synagogue life that the twenty- and thirty-somethings that are mainstays of the indie minyan world–are all generally at least 25 years older than me. There are a few exceptions to that demographic generalization, but it’s mostly true. The group is what’s left of a library minyan at suburban NJ Refrom synagogue, though it may outwardly appear quite close to Conservative in style. Our Rabbi was ordained at HUC, though her connection to Reform is tenuous these days. Our usual shaliach tzibur is a convert and a current JTS cantorial student. He is freakishly talented and I normally have no complaints about his leadership style on ordinary Shabat mornings. He generally wears a polo shirt and jeans to services, and that’s pretty much the level of dress that everyone in the Chavurah adheres to.
All of the above is why I love CL and why I go there every Shabat. But on Rosh Hashanah, a lot of that flies out the window. Instead of usual 10-20 chaverim, we grow to 30-50 for RH and Yom Kipur. Everyone–except for me, but including the other Shabat regulars–gets dressed up. And the type of accessible, but beautifully led melodies fly out the window, exchanged for all manner of off-the-wall chazanut that no one knows and no one can sing along with.
And this is the problem that always drives me away from my own community–wherever that may currently be–during the High Holidays. People I don’t know come out of the woodwork. In an attempt to impress them, the leaders trot out all manner of stuff that is far beyond the weekly norm. The result is that the non-regulars are uncomfortable because they’re not used to being in shul at all. Meanwhile, the regulars are uncomfortable too because of all the weird different shit going on!
Tomorrow, this series continues with what is sure to be a bizarre day of RH with gospel music in a Unitarian church. We’ll see how that goes.
Can you say a little bit more about your take on clothing? Although I’m all for informality when it’s appropriate, I’ve always felt that wearing different clothes on Shabbat and Holidays helps make them feel special for me. (Note that different doesn’t always mean “more fancy” or “stuffier” — lately I’ve been experimenting with an all-white Shabbat linen ensemble that sort of feels like pajamas to me when it’s all put together.)
I agree totally that wearing different clothing can go a long way toward mentally preparing one for a given activity. Take the transformation a football player undergoes as he puts on his uniform. Or even the change behavior we expect to go hand-in-hand with putting on a US army uniform.
I just don’t like getting “dressed up” and I appreciate a prayer community that agrees with me on that. What we consider dressy, I generally find to also be uncomfortable and awkward. But I do usually make a point of wearing a Jewish t-shirt to services.
So the holidays merit the same outfit as a youth group trip to laser tag? Is there room in your experience of religion to be challenged by things you “don’t like” in order to grow?
Yes. Clearly, I’m challenged by them. In fact, I think if you were to look at my personal blog (davidsaysthings.wordpress.com)–where I’ve been writing about my personal ritual life for three years–you’ll see a considerably fluid, changing internal opinion about a lot of things in my personal ritual life.
I don’t mean that a community is bad if it likes dressing up, but a casually dressed group of people puts me ease.
There’s also the fact that I grew up in Austin, TX, which is generally a very casual city. My Dad tells the story of the president of Texas Instruments pulling scissors out of his pocket and cutting ties off of mens’ necks in the TI offices in the eighties in Austin
CL is an oddity in the indie minyan world.
The reasons you give, namely the age demographics, are not rare. Many (if not most) of the minyans and havurahs that come together for NHC events, for example, are made up of people 25+ years older than you. Contrary to Hadar’s view of history, indie minyans did not start in 2001; previous generations’ young and dissatisfied are still active in the indie minyan world.
In an attempt to impress them, the leaders trot out all manner of stuff that is far beyond the weekly norm.
While it might be to impress the folks who otherwise do not show up for Shabbos or other services throughout the year, it seems more likely that they’re doing more “impressive” things because it’s the High Holy Days, and it’s a time to celebrate beautiful melodies and nusakh, separate this Shabbos which included Rosh Hashanah from other Shabboses.
TWJ writes:
it seems more likely that they’re doing more “impressive” things because it’s the High Holy Days, and it’s a time to celebrate beautiful melodies and nusakh, separate this Shabbos which included Rosh Hashanah from other Shabboses.
But “beautiful” is in the eye of the beholder, and if DAMW’s assessment is correct, there was a mismatch between the community’s and the leader’s ideas of “beautiful”.
For more on my snarkiness about “trotting” things out, see the comment thread happening at The Reform Shuckle, where one commenter asks,
The beginning of my response, also at The Shuckle:
And, to your point about demographics, TWJ, people have to remind me of that. It has been my (very limited) experience that minyanim tend to have younger crowds. The notion is reinforced in my mind, not by Hadar, but by the constant bafflement of the big movements with regards to how to get 20- and 30-somethings back from these indie groups.
The notion is reinforced in my mind, not by Hadar, but by the constant bafflement of the big movements with regards to how to get 20- and 30-somethings back from these indie groups.
That’s because we’re desirable, just like the 18-to-49 demographic when it comes to TV ratings. Shuls already have plenty of people in their 50s and 60s, so don’t care as much that lots of other people in that demographic have been happily participating in independent communities for a generation or more. Everyone wins!