Strongly Worded

Not Upkeeping the Faith

So as you all know, I'm a pretty secular person, and rarely attend religious services. Strangely, despite having many Jewish friends, I have only been to one Jewish wedding (which was held on a gorgeous L.A rooftop, not a synagogue), and though I've been to a number of Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, they've always been held at the crunchy-touch-feely Jewish community center in my hometown. At that temple, the rabbi is a lesbian and wears a tie-dyed tallis. Traditional it ain't.

This weekend I was invited to a baby naming ceremony, and I attended along with a bunch of non-Jewish friends, all of whom were excited about the event and interested in learning about the ceremony and Judaism in general. The invitation said that there would be a Torah service at 9:00, with the ceremony at ten. In my ultra-reform experience, this means a zippy service followed by a moving ceremony and an early departure time. I expected the synagogue would be charming and welcoming, and that the non-Jewish visitors would be able follow along and participate in the service.

We arrived at ten and were welcomed warmly by a woman in a tallis and kippah/prayer cap (traditionally worn only by men). She was wearing jeans and skidding around in her socks. When we entered the sanctuary we encountered a large, shabby room with folding chairs - the set-up looked like an A.A. meeting. There was a group of scraggly men praying tonelessly (all in jeans), several families looking similarly bedraggled, and a mystifying organizational structure. I wondered who (if anyone) was leading the service, where we were in the service, where the hell was the baby, and why did they just take the torah out of the ark (the cabinet in which it is stored when not in use)? The whole point of arriving at ten was that the torah was supposed to be in by then, allowing us to jump right to the touching baby-oriented part.

When we sat down, I scanned the room and the proud parents were nowhere to be found. I realized immediately that, despite the crunchy trappings, this was a conservative synagogue. Which meant that the service was conducted entirely in Hebrew, and that it would be comprehensive. The service progressed over the course of an hour or so, during which I felt sorry for myself, and even more sorry for my kind and curious friends, who were trying hard to look interested and respectful despite the fact that the goings-on were completely unintelligible. (I am a native Hebrew speaker, did my time in Sunday school, and even I had no idea what was going on.)

The proud parents made an appearance at this point, and the rabbi or prayer leader or whoever said some kind words and then the parents whisked the baby away and we all turned our focus miserably back to the goings-on. There was no way I could pray throughout any of it. Any ounce of spirituality I might have possessed was sucked up by the shoeless-and-jean wearing congregants, by what I experienced as a lack of respect for the large group of non-Jewish visitors, and by the space itself. I understand that the congregation is small and underfunded, but that's no excuse for burned out lightbulbs and torn drapes.

After a while I left (I had a prior commitment that I thought I'd have plenty of time to get to), and left my friends. I wanted so badly to take them aside and tell them that generally services are inviting, that most synagogues are simple but often beautiful and well-kept. And that I'd never seen a Jewish ritual of any kind in which the honorees don't attend the entire proceedings, and in which anyone was padding around in socks.

Posted by Dori at 5:30 PM