by Rabbi Avi Billet
A friend of mine recently observed on Facebook, “I actually watched someone type an email on his phone this morning.....WHILE SAYING KADDISH IN SHUL!! I think we have a problem.”
Even more disconcerting than the subject of his concern were the sarcastic comments which followed, which indicated that some people felt this was not such a big deal. I suppose this perspective is warranted because, after all, the person on his phone while saying kaddish didn’t kill anyone. He didn’t steal from anyone. I mean, he only disrespected his deceased parent and God and the people he was praying with. No damage that can’t be undone, right?
Wrong.
I was at a bris in a certain Manhattan synagogue recently, and while shuttling between the baby and the bris room I noted three men in the entrance way to the main sanctuary, all wearing tallis and tefillin, talking very animatedly… on their phones! I guess all present should have been grateful that they had the sense to take the phone conversation outside of the sanctuary.
In these Torah portions we read about the sanctity of the Mishkan and Mikdash. Needless to say, there should always be a certain reverence for the place we designate for prayer, which should automatically create a safe-space for prayer, one in which those who take their davening seriously all the time should be able to maximize their experience without distraction. Talking should not be taking place (if you need a personal distraction, bring a book), and communication with others should be kept to a minimal (such as a gabbai giving instructions).
“But if I’m texting or sending an email, it shouldn’t bother you!” Maybe. Except that you’re snickering, and your phone is dinging, binging, ringing and pinging, and that’s a distraction to everyone around you.
This week we read of the Golden Calf. Let us leave aside for a moment whether it was actually idolatry or not. Most Jews I know, flaws and all (self included) are not interested in idolatry. But the Hebrew phrase for the prohibition is actually “Avodah Zara” – meaning a strange or foreign form of worship. Could there be anything more strange or foreign than communicating with someone else, other than God, during the prayers – whether that person is sitting next to you, or is on the other side of a phone conversation, whether talk or text?
But a minute ago you said “Bring a book!” True. It is not ideal. But at least you know what you’re getting into. And if it is a “sefer” (book of Jewish ideas), you’re way ahead of the game. But once you start clicking on things, whether in email, or a link, or start searching for things, you don’t know what’s going to come into your phone. Is it that important that it can’t wait?
This past summer I read a blog of a young father who had just succumbed to cancer. His name was Daniel Lansky, and his blog is “everytreeisheard.wordpress.com.” In one of his posts, describing his medical ordeal, he wrote this:
“Am I scared? I am petrified. I hate asking for favors. HATE IT. It is so torturous being in a position where I need something from someone. There are so very many emotions and personal characteristics of mine that make me cringe and run from the idea of asking another to do something for me – but now is not the time for me to think of me. I have a wife, I have three little kids and I have cancer. I need your tefilos.
“In a few days I will be having my first scans since I started treatment. Those scans will show what Hashem wants to be seen. No more – no less. So here I go – I am going to ask you for what I need from you.
“SHUT YOUR PHONE OFF BEFORE ENTERING SHUL. PLEASE.
“There is nothing – nothing – that can’t wait. Respect the Makom tefillah. Don’t put it on vibrate – don’t silence the ringer – simply turn it off. Please. I wish that this could be a rule in every shul – before entering make sure your phone is off.”
Not sharing any novel ideas this week. Nothing new. I think there are exceptions to his idea that nothing can’t wait – an any-minute expectant father, a hatzalah worker, a doctor on call. But not the business call, or the conversation that “needs to be had while I’m in shul.”
Ever since reading his blog, I’ve been announcing in shul that phones should be turned off, silenced, or (my personal practice) put in airplane mode. Some people don’t listen. Most do.
I believe with complete faith that those who find flaw in anything written here have a lot of thinking to do as to what the shul experience is supposed to be. And, as my friend put it, you might be “part of the problem.” Let’s take Daniel Lansky A”H’s advice to heart, and turn off the phone. Maybe we can recapture what davening should be all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment