Coming up for Air.

Now that the High Holidays are slipping into the past (and what a wonderful experience they were!) I'm able to come back up. Sermons can be found at the Beth Emeth website. I'm incredibly proud of my staff and the lay-people, was thrilled with the attendance (especially at the family services) and thought the whole experience was wonderful. Except one, which is gnawing at me even days later.

It happened in Neilah, the last service of Yom Kippur. At one point, I heard the sound of a happy child coming from the back. I looked over and saw a family that comes pretty regularly, and tries to bring their preschool-aged daughter when they can. I saw an usher go to them and then lost track, but when I looked up they appeared to be in the same spot, so I figured all was well.

All was not well. The usher had asked them to leave, and worse, several congregants had shot the family dirty looks. As it happens, the daughter who was making the noise has special needs (and nearly died when she was born), so for the family, this is an extra-sensitive issue. They constantly weigh whether they should bring their beautiful girl out in public where they know she'll be stared at and she'll have trouble keeping quiet, or keep her at home and deny themselves--and her--the opportunity to be with their community.

To be fair to the usher, she was VERY apologetic (no names to protect everyone here, and don't even try to guess), and felt terrible that she'd upset this family while trying to protect the worship experience for the rest of the congregation, and I know the family in question bears her no ill will. However, that they feel embarrassed about coming to THEIR synagogue, and bringing their daughter to worship, fills me with sadness and disappointment. No one should be turned aside, especially for the sounds of children.

I have NEVER kicked kids out of a service (one exception: b'nai mitzvah, and that's only because our 13-year old service leaders' nerves are usually so rattled as it is!); for me, as a shaliach tzibbur, I'm horrified at the thought that our kids--and by extension, their parents--should be kicked out for making a little noise. And the answer is not to ghettoize them in family and tot services (though those are good for other reasons). We need to always make sure that everyone knows they're welcome.

At Yom Kippur morning, I talked about the need to be accessible. As a Reform congregation, we work hard to be accessible to people with all kinds of challenges and abilities, and from all walks of life: we have English readings for non-Hebrew speakers, ramps for those who cannot use stairs, large print and braile books, audio boosters for those hard of hearing, etc. We do whatever we can to be as inclusive as possible--that should extend to our young families as well. And if that means the kids are going to make joyful noise, and if it means the parents come in chinos and a sweater because they didn't have time to change, FINE BY ME. Let them come! The seventh of the Sheva Berachot, the blessings for a wedding, thanks God for the sound of children at play. I am grateful for that sound and always have been (even before I embarked on Fatherhood), because well we should be aware, the alternative is unsustainable. Our gates should always be open.

Okay, rant over. Shana tova to all and more updates soon.

Preparing to Open the Gates: Entering Elul

Tomorrow begins the month of Elul and with it, the countdown to the yammim noraim, the High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It is a time of self-reflection marked in traditional circles by the sounding of the Shofar at the end of daily services and the recitation of Psalm 27 ("God is my light and my helper, whom shall I fear?").

In our tradition, the notion of preparation is an important one. We cannot just go diving into the experience; we require some kind of trigger, some ritual or modality that readies us and puts us in the proper frame of mind. We recite a blessing before we study Torah. We engage is p'sukei d'zimra (songs of praise) and birchot hashachar (morning blessings) before we get to the 'meat' of the morning service. And we anticipate the days of Judgment and Atonement with a month of spiritual 'calisthenics'. For many of us, the highlight of Elul is the observance of Selichot, the last motzei Shabbat (Saturday night) before Rosh Hashanah. The service is the High Holidays liturgy in miniature, with references to Al Cheyt, Avinu Malkeinu and other prayers recited by the penitent and contrite of spirit. These prayers are recited late in the evening (or even midnight) and many congregations then use the opportunity to switch their Torah mantles from their year-round, 'colored' mantles to High Holy Day white, signifying the congregation's anticipation of the New Year.

There's a great article from My Jewish Learning on ways to incorporate Elul into our own daily lives, but as we prepare for the summer to end, the school year to begin again, the changing of the seasons from summer warmth to autumn chill, I encourage you to start preparing your own "New Year's Resolutions". In fact, if you have any in mind, feel free to share them below!