Religious Roles: Where Sharing Really is Caring

Parshat Naso

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

 The very last verse in our parsha comes after the concluding and summarizing statement of the sacrifices of the princes. And it seems totally out of place.

“When Moses came into the Communion Tent (Ohel Moed) to speak with [God], he would hear the Voice speaking to him from between the two cherubs on the ark cover over the Ark of Testimony. [God] thus spoke to him.” (7:29) 

 There has been no discussion of Moshe and the Ohel Moed. There was no indication of God’s presence communicating from the near the Ark. This little anecdote is coming out of left field.

 The Alshikh notes the odd placement, how this verse is not connected to what came before it nor to what follows it. “The Rabbis noted (in Tanchuma Behaalotkha 5) the connection between the next parsha and the dedication of the Mizbe’ach (altar). They said that Aharon was thinking and was hurt because all of the tribes had representatives bringing sacrifices and he hadn’t brought anything as a representative of Levi. And God told him, ‘Your portion is greater than theirs because B’haalotkha Et HaNerot (8:2) – when you light the candles – you are doing something none of them can do.’”

 With this background tale, the Alshikh notes, the verse about Moshe communicating with God in the Ohel Moed seems to only serves as an unnecessary interruption! God has to give an answer to Aharon based on what has just happened! Not based on Moshe’s ill-placed communication with the Divine!

 Rashi notes the strange format of the verb which describes God’s speech from between the cherubs. The word in the verse is “Mee-daber” (with the ‘chirik’ vowel) instead of “M’daber” (with the double-dotted shva na vowel) which indicates that God was speaking to Himself, and Moshe was allowed to listen in. 

Alshikh finds this problematic. Because it makes it seem as if Moshe does not belong there. Moreover, the verse says “Va’y’daber Eilav” (And He spoke to him), which indicates that God did speak to Moshe and wasn’t just ‘conversing’ with His own entity. The verse is also proof positive to Moshe’s humility. When he came to engage the Almighty in conversation, he was filled with trepidation and was unable to express anything without permission. That God spoke first indicated that God wanted to speak with Moshe as well. 

Now we can begin to understand why the verse about Moshe appears in between Aharon’s pain and Aharon’s vindication. Because Moshe was also a fine representative of the tribe of Levi. And Moshe had similar thoughts as his brother's, over the lack of Levite representation in the dedication of the Mizbe’ach. 

But Moshe did not complain! Before Moshe could even say anything, God would speak to him to show Moshe the special place he had, the special role he played. And that in life, there are other ways to fill what some may consider a lack in the fulfillment of their religious experiences.

 The verse comes to show us that Moshe and Aharon were in a similar boat in their wanting to be as close to God as the tribal leaders. And they just needed a reminder that what they had was pretty good. What they had was unique, a connection to God that no other individuals had.

 What Moshe and Aharon went through was not on the same level as the Korach tale. Moshe and Aharon always wanted to get closer and closer to God. But the tale of the princes was a very human lesson to Moshe and Aharon, that you don’t need to do it all.

 And, to their credit, Moshe and Aharon did not pull their “I’m the leader” card and bring sacrifices anyway. They didn’t inveigle themselves into a role that was not theirs by nature or by God-appointment.

 In shuls, these kinds of challenges come up all the time. Some shuls have a beautiful system in place in which gabbai roles are shared and rotated and the opportunities to lein and to lead the davening are rotated systematically in order to include as many people as possible (of course assuming that those who assume these roles are qualified and capable to fulfill these responsibilities admirably to the standards of the synagogue).

 And there are places where the same gabbai is gabbai for life (and will never give it up!), and where the same individual rushes to lead the davening or won’t give others the chance to lein at Shabbos mincha. Or where the Maftir Yonah is “owned” by a significant contributor, or certain specialty davenings are “always” led by the same person, or where the otherwise democratic nature of the synagogue is thrown away to satisfy the whims of a selfish individual. Former presidents keep all the keys they had in order not to relinquish an element of “power” held during those years of service. [These examples are culled from years of listening to tales from shul-goers I've met, from all around the country.]

 Moshe and Aharon teach us that people who are capable of leading and of taking on these roles should be able to be “sam’e’ach b’chelkam” (happy with their portion) and should find the strength to be “mevatrim” – people who give up the honors so others can have them. Because there is nothing more honorable or gracious than being able to say, “While I enjoy doing this, the right thing to do is to give someone else a chance. I don’t have to do everything.”

 May we find the strength (and create systems) to share responsibilities with others, and create wholesome shul environments in which jealousy and envy have no place because everyone is willing and ready to let another person have a chance to represent the congregation.

Tribute to #1 Partner in Creation

Rosh Hashana and a Plea for Daily Minyan

by Rabbi Avi Billet

            

The Talmud in Niddah (31a) records that there are three partners in the creation of every human being: the Holy One, a father and a mother. It is to these three partners that each of us owes our very existence. [Though here is quite an interesting twist on the "3 partners idea"]

Scientific advancement has allowed the process to include what some might call an "assist" to go to medical professionals. But the genetic makeup of every human being comes from one male and one female, while the process that makes it all come together and form a human being is God's contribution to the effort.

On Rosh Hashana, we utilize a term that is reminiscent of this process when we declare "Hayom Harat Olam," that today is the day of the world's birth (or, more accurately, its conception). Particularly on this day, we are very cognizant of God's role in the existence of every life form on our planet. We appreciate that the day of Rosh Hashana is the Day of Judgment for the entire world. And, perhaps on account of this, so many Jews make a concerted effort to be in the synagogue to note our collective recognition of God's role in our existence and in the continued existence of the world.

Many synagogues like to tout their membership numbers. Depending on a particular community's unique makeup, the "active membership" number is not always in sync with the "complete membership" figures. "Inactive members" are generally people who feel a kinship of some kind to the synagogue, most likely show up on the high holidays, but otherwise are less involved in the weekly shul activities.

"Active membership" is usually defined as those who show up on a weekly basis, on Shabbat. But even the "active membership" numbers do not translate even closely to the much fewer numbers that show up on a daily basis.

It is understood that Shabbat is a day when entire families come to the synagogue. We aren't working, school is off, and where else does one need to be?

But even if the weekday is not a family day in the synagogue, where are all the people – the active members?

Every shul has its dedicated members who do show up on a daily basis. Year in and year out, their shul attendance, with the exception of vacations and sick days, is in the 90 percent range.

But many "active members" do not show up during the week. Many active members only become daily active members, ironically, when they are in mourning for the loss of two of the three partners in their own creation.

How many people are very dedicated and "never miss" a day during the year of mourning, but as soon as the year of mourning ends, they are never seen in the synagogue during the week? We give homage to the invisible partner in our creation during the year we remember our no longer visible creation-partners.

And yet, we can't give that same homage on a regular basis when our parents are alive, or even worse, after we have demonstrated for a year that "this is important to us" and "we can make the time to be in the synagogue out of a sense of responsibility"? How can this be?

As we come to the synagogue on Rosh Hashana, let us take into account that the synagogue is open 365 days a year. Let us commit to being active members not just on the High Holidays, not just on Shabbat, but also during the week.

While some get the drive to come back to the synagogue when they are in mourning, let us merit to come to the synagogue without the mourning incentive, as a tribute to our third partner in creation (who is listed as #1 in the Talmud!), because it is on His account that we live and breathe every day.

Going to Shul Weekdays and Shabbos

Shul Attendance (For Men and Women) Is All About Training

by AVI BILLET

I have seen a theme in the blogosphere over the last few days: the following blog posts are presented in (what I think is) their chronological order – all addressing "Why Women Don't Go To Shul." Some of these are a "view from Israel," while some were penned in the United States.

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/not-exactly-a-seat-of-honor/

http://choppingwood.blogspot.co.il/2013/04/the-embarrasment-that-is-womens-section.html

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/scroll-up/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/why-women-dont-go-to-shul/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/dont-blame-women-for-not-going-to-shul/

Rabbi Fink (last of the five) compared what he believes to be the reasons men go to shul with reasons why women might as well – and he clarified for me on Facebook that he is mostly speaking about on Shabbos. It is certainly true that some people go out of a sense of obligation, and some go for social reasons – seeing friends, schmoozing, drinking, the Kiddush, etc.

In this contribution to the subject (which alludes to points made in all of the posts linked above), our focus will distinguish between weekdays and Shabbos in hopes of finding an answer to the conundrum.

Weekdays

            

Weekday attendance boils down to one's training and one's M.O. as an adult. Men may "know" they have an obligation to pray three times a day, but it is only those that I classify as "shul guys" who actually make the regular effort. Conflicts come up (timing, work, kids, business-travel, etc), a person can't always make it. But the shul-guy's heart is in shul. And he is there often.

            

I would bet that those who are shul-guys have been going to shul since they were children, davening in a minyan in school, and dragged or brought to mincha-maariv regularly. And when they were off from school, their parents had them go to shul as well. Not just on Shabbos and Yom Tov, but Chol Hamoed, Sundays, legal holidays and winter and summer vacations. If their families went on trips – skiing, Disney, etc., they made an effort to either create or find a minyan.

            

The fact remains that though shuls are quite active in the morning and evening hours of every weekday, the primary attendees are men. Every now and then a young woman, recently back from Israel perhaps, will appear in shul. Sometimes a woman saying kaddish for a yarzeit will make an appearance, or a woman saying kaddish for her parent might be a regular attendee. But these are uncommon.

            

More often the women's section, during the week, is either empty or occupied by (male) latecomers or Yeshiva guys. [This is very wrong behavior because it further makes women feel unwelcome. Shuls that are aware of this put up signs saying "Please reserve the women's section for women."]

            

That women don't show up is partially because of the excuses – and they are all legitimate: women do not have the "obligation," those who are mothers have other responsibilities, and there is not really a social element to the weekday davening.* This does not explain why women who are looking to have a minyan experience, who are not mothers of young children and do not have other responsibilities do not come to shul. There isn't a "welcoming" atmosphere to anyone on the weekday because of the fast pace of a workday: those who come during the week are usually interested in davening, yes, but in getting through it as expeditiously as possible – no wasting time, do your business, and move on with your day.

Shabbos

There are two kinds of shuls: the kind in which women feel comfortable, and the kind in which they do not. Certainly some shuls make a bigger deal out of the women's section and put more efforts into making it a respectable space for tefillah. And some completely neglect the space.

To be honest, I hear both sides. A majority of the women I see coming to shul come for the final hour of the Shabbos morning davening. For those who come from the beginning, they certainly deserve a welcoming space. But for those who only come for the 1 hour per week, I completely understand why a shul would not budget for the space (though this is likely more of an issue in Israel than in the US where shuls do take the women's section into consideration, particularly when constructing a new facility).

There are also many reasons women would not come to shul. Some are communal (shul doesn't care, I don't like the shul atmosphere, women are left out of the service, I don't like the way they have the mechitza, etc); some are openly personal (no child care, too much talking, too much shushing, etc); some are intimately personal (a widow or divorcee feels out of place or lonely, anger with God, someone said something once, etc.); to some women, davening may be a meaningless gesture, or something they prefer to do at home. Where any shul can address the issue, the shul should do its best to correct the problem. Unfortunately, blaming a shul for any individual's private and very personal problems with the shul enters into the realm of "unfair."

In the shuls I have worked and prayed, women come on Shabbos morning. Some to pray, some to talk. Some come early and daven. Some come a little later and daven. Some come late and listen to the sermon or talk during davening or in the hallway. I find a special irony in cases where women wish to kiss the Torah and then talk during the Torah reading (men too, by the way). Not that all do this, but it becomes a question of what are our priorities – an external gesture which turns out to be meaningless (if one talks during the reading), or an internalization of the Torah words which are publicly read? Seems to me the latter should be the priority.

The excuse that women do not have a participatory role in shul is, in my opinion, just an excuse. In a shul that has 100 men and 100 women, about 14 men have a role. Let's assume for a moment that the rabbi doesn't count. 2 Gabbaim, 3 baalei tefillah (unless there is a cantor), 1 Torah reader and 8 aliyahs. 86% of the men have the same role as the women, and yet they come all the same. Their role is to worry about their own tefillah, participate in whatever singing and communal responses, and make their best effort to get close to God.

I know a number of women who are "shul-women" and "tefillah-women." They view both experiences as very important in their lives, they daven every day, and they go to shul on Shabbos where they are content with their role as an actively participating member of the tzibbur – who answers to brachot, kaddish, kedusha, and joins in communal singing. They never need to play the speaking role of chazzan or person getting an aliyah (which many men shy away from as well) and can go about their business without anyone being the wiser – because davening is not about a show. It is about a personal experience.

They probably did not have the same training as the "shul-guys" (bottom line: attendance in shul is largely related to one's having been trained to be a shul person), and they more likely came to their shul-person status through either positive Shabbos experiences growing up, or on account of their own religious and soul-searching in formative years.

When people make shul about everything else (can I lead Kabbalat Shabbat, will I get to carry the Torah, or kiss the Torah, does the shul even make an effort to make me feel comfortable, whether it provides childcare, a hashkamah minyan for one spouse so the other can go later), they have many causes to complain about the roles they do not have, and how annoying shul is. 

But when people understand what the purpose of the shul experience is supposed to be it can be rewarding no matter the circumstances, if the attitude a person brings to shul is one that says, "I am here to have the experience I am looking for. It is up to me to create it."

After all - אמ אין אני לי מי לי

* There is no "social element" to any davening. You are either speaking to God, you are silent, or you are speaking to a person. When conversing with a person, you are not davening.

Getting Rid of the Kiddush Club

I am indebted to Mr. Joey Betesh of Hollywood, FL for challenging me to address this issue. His #1 concern is the influence drinking in shul has on children, especially teenagers, who see drinking as something "manly" and glorified, and who have absolutely no understanding of the dangers of alcohol, and no appreciation for limits. There is a reason why alcohol is illegal for those under 21. We might give our children a little bit of wine at Kiddush, but we are supervising it, and I am sure most who get hooked on drinking are not doing so with wine. [See the follow up to this story here!]

            One of the inspirations for me to tackle the Kiddush Club dilemma is a story I heard about a converted Kiddush-Club member who saw the light after his shul "went dry." Though he was at first upset that his weekly fix was taken away from him, after he no longer slept through lunch and most of Shabbos and found that he actually enjoyed spending Shabbos with his children, he realized how badly the Kiddush Club had affected his family life and his marriage. I salute him for seeing the light!

            This essay is on the long side – over 4000 words – but I hope the information here will provide a sufficient halakhic base for changing the status quo – especially if "Kiddush Club" is a challenge for your shul.

            And to the shul in middle-America that uses the term "Kiddush Club" to refer to the women who volunteer to prepare the weekly Kiddush – this article has nothing to do with you!

Getting Rid of the Kiddush Club

by Avi Billet

           

            The Torah reading has just ended, and the Great Escape begins.

            From bare bones (shnapps and crackers) to fully catered (cholent, kugel, meat, chicken and three side-dishes), the Kiddush Club is as alive as ever in Orthodox shuls around the country.

            What's wrong with it? It's just a couple of guys hanging out, enjoying each other's company. Having a nice time, a little drink, feeling camaraderie together. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

            Nothing at all – when it is done in a proper time, a proper place, and in the dignified manner befitting such a gathering.

            Unfortunately, most Kiddush clubs begin with three strikes against them: the timing – during the Haftorah, often skipping the rabbi's sermon and perhaps a part of davening including tefillah b'tzibbur; the place – it's a shul (which should be a place dedicated to devarim she'bi'k'dusha) and there are often kids around; the hardly dignified manner in which people seek their drinks and food and set an example for youth.

            Those who attend an Orthodox shul will often claim to have an allegiance of some kind to the halakhic system. Nowadays though people pick and choose which halakhos they willfully follow and which they willfully disregard, why not be a knowledgeable violator instead of an ignorant one? At least now you can't say "No-one ever told me!"

What's Wrong With Drinking? In Moderation - Nothing

            The Rambam (Maimonides) in Hilkhos De'os 3:1 is quite clear that drinking in moderation is permissible. We do not glorify the ascetic existence – see the Nazir's having to bring a Sin Offering at the conclusion of his Nezirus period as proof. Rambam concludes saying, "Don’t be such a tzaddik, and don't outsmart yourself." In other words, don't be so righteous that you don't drink at all. But don't outsmart yourself in thinking that too much drinking is OK.

            And for those who only drink at a Kiddush Club, or on Shabbos, or on reasonable occasion, I am not here to say "You have a problem." Alcoholism is certainly a concern. But those who are careful, who understand limits and who respect the alcohol, so to speak, are not the target of this essay: the target is the when, the where and the how. Because in shul, during davening, in a less than mechubbedik fashion is the wrong place, time and method for achieving what could be very positive outcomes from a Kiddush Club (see the suggestions at the end).

Something Wrong With Eating Before Mussaf? Depends What You're Eating

            Some may argue it is forbidden to eat before Mussaf. This is simply not true. The "zman" for saying Kiddush is after Shacharis, and if Kiddush is recited one may have a bite to eat before Mussaf. Note that I said "a bite."

            There are still problems associated with leaving the organized and structured davening while it is going on – a point which will soon be addressed – but if a structure is put into place for people to make Kiddush without missing davening, there isn't a particular halakhic problem with such an arrangement.

            When I was a camper, the camp I attended had optional breakfast for younger campers before davening on Shabbos, and they'd bring cake and milk to the shul for people to eat immediately at the conclusion of davening.

            By the time I was a staff member, they may have kept the optional breakfast (I don't recall), but they changed the morning routine to consist of Shacharis, a break for "Kiddusha Rabba," followed by Torah reading and Mussaf. At Kiddusha Rabba someone would say Kiddush, and they offered cereal, milk, cake, crackers and herring. There was a dvar Torah, we learned a new "niggun" (song), and then we returned to shul. The structured break allowed for people not to lose patience – on account of hunger – with the length of davening,

            With this kind of structured "Kiddush break" as our background, the Shulchan Arukh (286:3) says, "One may 'taste' (לטעום) before Mussaf – this means to eat fruit or even a small amount of bread, even a 'taste' that is large enough to satisfy the heart (לסעוד הלב). But a meal is forbidden. (סעודה אסור)."

            The Taz (Turei Zahav – Rabbi David HaLevi) comments:

"One may taste: The law is not like Rav Huna because he forbade tasting 'anything' before Mussaf. But it's really an eating which is like a meal which is forbidden… Concern is over the definition of 'tasting.' Everyone agrees that 'eating' is forbidden… When the Tur wrote, 'It isn't the way (דרך) to eat before [Mussaf]' don't think this means, 'There is no prohibition, it's just not the way it's done…'  There absolutely is a prohibition to eat before Mussaf… There is a difference between tasting and eating, and we should not be lenient with regard to allowing a meal before Mussaf."

            The problem in most shuls, unlike in camp, is that there is no structure for having a Kiddush in the middle of davening. And while having a "taste" is OK, we need to understand how such a "taste" is defined.

            The Shulchan Arukh mentioned it, but since we may have missed it, let's look at the Shaarei Teshuvah (286:1), who writes, 

"If a person does not have wine and bread, only has fruit, and his heart is weak [from not having eaten], he may taste before Kiddush before Mussaf. But if he's feeling fine (לא חליש ליביה) he may not be lenient."

            Interesting. Tasting, meaning "Having fruit," is even allowed without saying Kiddush, but is limited to a person whose "heart is weak." So a perfectly healthy young person who is doing just fine, and can manage another 30-45 minutes without eating anything does not really fit this description. Note that he does not require saying Kiddush before eating.

            The Magen Avraham has a similar ruling, in which he quotes the Bach (ב"ח) who maintains that while it might be permissible to even eat a meal, "…The custom is to be machmir (stringent – and not to eat the meal). Therefore, one who has a weak heart, and finds it too difficult to daven mussaf before eating, he should make Kiddush, and eat before Mussaf." Again – the leniency is only for one who has a weak heart and needs to eat. (Unlike the Shaarei Teshuvah, he does require Kiddush to be recited.)

            The Mishnah Brurah (286:9) also focuses on eating fruit, "because eating fruit is not considered a set meal." He even allows a person with a weak heart to have bread until he feels better. He concludes this paragraph saying, "But if this is not the case (e.g. if a person does not have a weak heart), one can not be lenient."

            I do not attend a Kiddush Club. But there have been times when I have davened at an earlier minyan and found myself dragged to a Kiddush Club by those who were leaving in the middle of their minyan. I have never seen a fruit platter at a Kiddush Club. Nor have I ever seen anyone with a weak heart at a Kiddush Club. Frankly, the last place a person with a weak heart should be is at a Kiddush Club, because between the Whiskey and other fare, the person will likely get a heart attack from partaking.

            But there are other problems with the aftereffects of having participated in a Kiddush Club.

You Can't Participate in Davening if you are Drunk

            In his listing of the mitzvot of the Torah, Rambam mentions that a Kohen may not enter theTemple if he's had wine to drink, as it says (Vayikra 10:9), "You may not drink wine and shechar (a generic term for intoxicating beverages) when you enter, etc…"

            In the days of the Temple, the kohen was doing the service on behalf of everyone else. Nowadays, as our "service" consists of the prayers we issue on our own behalf, we can make the argument that any kind of drinking (of wine or 'shechar'), done by anyone, has no place among those who will be returning to the synagogue, or who have not yet finished davening.

            Rabbi Yehuda (Taanis 26b) addresses why we have duchening (on days we do) only in the morning prayers, and not in the afternoon. "Shacharis and Mussaf take place during a time in the day when drunkenness is not prevalent (לא שכיח שכרות)." As opposed to at Mincha time, which takes place after people have had lunch.

            The Even Ha'Azel (R Isser Zalman Meltzer) notes in his commentary on the Rambam (Laws of the Vessels of the Mikdash Ch 8) that there was no stricture put on the Kohen Gadol from drinking at night (in moderation), before going to sleep, since at this time he'll not be entering the mikdash, and it won't diminish his performance. "It takes an hour for the effects of the wine to wear off," and certainly a full night's sleep will have him ready to go in the morning.

            While it is clear that the Talmudic Rabbi Yehuda never entered a modern day Orthodox shul, the notion that people get drunk in the morning hours, specifically before Shacharis or Mussaf, was foreign to him. Drinking during lunch or in the evening hours, on the other hand, in some contexts was either expected, the norm, or tolerated, because there is time to get back to oneself by the time the next service rolls around. But drinking before Mussaf, and then immediately davening Mussaf? This does not fit in with normative behavior, nor proper halakhic practice.

            The first person who was ever accused of praying while under the influence, and properly (though mistakenly) castigated about it was the biblical heroine Chana. Eli the High Priest likely had this Talmudic passage (Eruvin 64a) in mind when he criticized her:

"Rabba bar Rav Huna said, "One who has been drinking (שתוי) should not pray (אל יתפלל), but if he did, then his prayer is valid. One who is drunk (שיכור) should not pray, and if he prayed, his prayer is an abomination (תפלתו תועבה)... What is the difference between one who has been drinking and one who is drunk? One who has merely been drinking is still able to speak before a king. One who is drunk is unable or incapable of speaking before a king."

[See Shulchan Arukh OC 99 which goes into further detail of the laws of drunkenness and davening.]

One can argue that holding a Siddur in hand absolves us of that responsibility, as long as one is conscious enough to read. But who will honestly consider a tefillah uttered by an inebriated individual to be a proper tefillah?

            A different perspective: Either to avoid the temptation, or because the smell is literally improper for the mindset of tefillah, Rambam writes (Laws of Prayer and Duchening Chapter 4:9), "The great scholars would not pray in a house that had shechar in it, nor in a house that has muryas (a fish-fat dip) at the time it is mouldering, because it has a terrible odor (even though the place is tahor)." And the Hagahot Maimoniyot (Maharam (Meir) of Rothenberg) similarly notes that "Shmuel would not pray in a house that had shechar; Rav Papa would not pray in a house that had fish-hash."

            I have had the displeasure of davening next to people who smelled like herring, and a similar displeasure of davening next to people who smelled of single malt scotch. Neither smell is very inviting for proper concentration, and the belching accompanying the latter (not to mention the running commentary) is also unbefitting a shul.

           

Other problems Associated with eating at Kiddush Club

            The Shulchan Arukh also states (Laws of Breaking Bread, Meals, etc 169:2) that one may "Only give food to someone that you know will make blessings." While this is a challenge in general, at least at a structured meal when bread "covers" all the food which will be eaten, and one person says the blessing for everyone, there is certainly room to give food to those who might not make blessings. But the behavior I have generally seen at Kiddushes includes, at best, the bracha over the shnapps, and nothing more.

             Of course, there are exceptions. There are people who are very careful to say all the proper blessings over the food they consume. But those who only wait to hear the Kiddush blessing leaving all other blessings unsaid are certainly behaving halakhically improperly.

            There is another problem associated with eating in this context – when people are rushing to take food, and, in the case of those who are actually concerned about returning to davening – and that is eating quickly: "One should not talk during the meal (e.g. while eating), because perhaps the food will go down the wrong pipe." (Ibid 170)

            The Magen Avraham notes that people should not even speak divrei Torah. While I have never heard a dvar Torah recited at a Kiddush Club, even were one shared, it would be against halakha! If people are so frum about hearing divrei Torah, they shouldn't be skipping the rabbi's sermon. But I am getting ahead of myself.

            Because our next problem is that those who attend a Kiddush Club usually go out during the Haftorah. "Who cares?" you'll ask. "It's 'only'" the Haftorah!" Really? Skipping the Haftorah reflects an ignorance of why we read the Haftorah. It may stem from a time when Torah reading was forbidden by authorities, but the books of the Prophets were somehow not. That is not relevant to our conversation – thank God we are allowed to read Torah and Neviim as much as we want, without restrictions. But do we?

           

The Importance of the Haftorah

            The Encyclopedia Talmudit has a full entry on the subject of the Haftorah, in which the authors begin with different theories of the origins of the Haftorah. [Of the next eight paragraphs, those in Italics are quotes from the Encyclopedia Talmudit¸ while the normal font indicates my comments.]

"Some say the word Haftorah comes from the word meaning "Opening," as in the "opening of the womb" (Peter rechem). Because during Torah reading it is forbidden to speak, and after Torah reading it is permissible (there is 'an opening') to speak. This is not to suggest that it's OK to speak about anything, because the entire tzibur needs to hear the Haftorah, but it's now permissible to talk about halakha topics. For example, if a person had a question during the Torah reading (about the Torah reading) he can now talk to his friend about it [after the Torah reading], because during the Torah reading this conversation was forbidden. (Lvush 284)"

            It is noted that there are people who ignore this "talking during Torah reading" rule, but the two points are the line in bold, and that I am sure people at a Kiddush club are not sharing insights from the morning's Torah reading now that they have the opportunity to do so after the conclusion of the Torah reading. As if they weren't talking during the Torah reading. 

"Some say the word Haftorah comes from "P'tur" (exemption), as opposed to "chiyuv" (obligation), because with the Haftorah, the tzibur becomes exempt of their obligation to read (once the Haftorah is over). (Machzor Vitri p 98)"

            Of course, one needs to hear the Haftorah in order to become exempt from the obligation to hear the different readings. Walking out for the Haftorah reading does not fulfill one's obligation.

            Reasons for reading the Haftorah:

1. Rishonim – Once upon a time people would bring books to shul and learn Torah, Nevim, Mishnah, etc. But when people didn't have that time because they were poor and needed to work, they would stop learning Navi, except for two pesukim in Uva L'Tzion. But on Shabbos and Yom Tov, when there is time, and people aren't working anyway, they brought the crown back to its place through instituting the Haftorah. This is why we don't say Uva L'Tzion on Shabbos and Yom Tov, because we've already read the Haftorah.

2. Some Rishonim wrote that the Haftorah is a Takanas Ezra

Rishonim wrote that even though there is nothing wrong with having a minor read the Haftorah, nonetheless the proper way – derech eretz – is to have a respected adult (אדם גדול וחשוב) read it…

            Rishonim wrote that the Haftorah was not respected/important (חשובה) in their eyes (of the people), because even a minor could do it… There's a major difference between if someone/anyone can do it, versus if someone is getting paid to do it. When you're paying for it, it becomes important.

            We see from these snippets that the Haftorah may be a takanah of Ezra… as is reading the Torah by parshas, finishing it in a one-year cycle! We are pretty strict about the latter, so maybe we should be strict about the former as well. We also see that the Haftorah is an opportunity to engage in Navi study at a time when we are not otherwise working. Shirking that opportunity seems to be quite disrespectful of our dedication to Torah study in general.

            The discussion about whether a minor could read and whether that is proper is an interesting one. The custom in general is to have an adult read: out of respect for the congregation. So perhaps it's not farfetched to suggest the respect should be mutual and the congregation should have respect for the Haftorah - כי מכבדי אכבד.

             [I have a side issue with why the Haftorah takes so long in some places – can't we just restrict it to people who actually know how to read and lein it? The Haftorah should flow as well, if not even more smoothly than the Torah reading, especially when it is read from a book that has the vowels and tropes. Why this is not the case is surely one of the reasons the Haftorah became such a grand opportunity for people to walk out;  when someone stumbles through it, makes many mistakes, and does not read properly – diction and tune – it is hardly inviting or respectful to the congregants. Shuls, take note! With rare exception, most Haftorahs should not take more than 4-5 minutes to read]

            The Pri Megadim (R Yaakov Teomim in Eshel Avraham 284:5) writes, "In the Kavvanos (a work referring to the proper concentration and thoughts one has in davening) it is implied that every individual should say the Haftorah quietly."

            In the laws of Megillah reading (689), Magen Avraham writes, "An individual cannot be motzee someone else, except in the presence of a minyan… a reading is preferred to take place in the presence of a minyan because of b'rov am hadaras melekh – the larger congregation is the glory of the King."

            A couple of other reasons to respect the Haftorah and its role in our Shabbos morning include:

•        the need to "pick up" brachos that are missed on account of the shorter Shmoneh Esreis:

"One must pay attention (לכוין) to the blessings of those who are reading the Torah, as well as to the blessings of the Maftir, and one should answer Amen after them. And all of these blessings count towards one's count of 100 blessings, which are lessened on account of Shabbos." (Shulchan Arukh 284:3)

•        The respect given to the Navi we have read during the Haftorah is paramount, as the Magen Avraham explains: 

 "We do not remove the Neviim book until after the brachos [of the Haftorah] so that one can see and make the blessing on the Haftorah he read… If there is no Eiruv which would allow them to bring the Chumash to the shul, ten people go and read the Haftorah in a home in which there is a Chumash. They can also 'read' the Haftorah by heart if there's no other way to do it."

          It is hard to imagine a Chumash not being present in our shuls, because our shuls are thankfully stocked with donated Chumashim. But imagine a time when there was no Chumash-with-Haftorah in shul. Imagine people leaving shul to walk to where there is a Chumash so they can hear the Haftorah! With such a precedent, how could people walk out of shul nowadays, when the opportunity is presented to them to hear the Haftorah?

What About Mussaf - How Important is That?

            Having learned the rules regarding eating before davening Mussaf, and the importance of the Haftorah, we return to the importance of davening Mussaf. We've seen that davening Mussaf while under the influence of alcohol is improper.

            May a person skip Mussaf?

            The Shulchan Arukh says (286:2), " Every individual must daven Mussaf, whether there is a minyan or no minyan present."

            When I was 20 or 21, I was the gabbai of the "High School/College minyan" in my shul. We always ended our minyan before the main shul. One time, shortly after we had finished our davening, a group of about 15 guys walked in and started to say Half-Kaddish. The shul had a policy of no "unscheduled minyanim," and it was quite clear that these guys had missed Mussaf in the shul and were looking to finish their davening in our now available room.

            Being the gabbai (and a somewhat representative of the shul's rules), I asked them what they were doing. Their ringleader said, "Well, we are davening Mussaf." Why aren't you at the minyan where you started? "Well, we WERE. But… we got locked out." How did you get locked out? "Well, you know how it is… we needed a break, we went out… and now we want to daven." NOW you want to daven? And how did you get locked out? The entrance to the sanctuary at the front of the room is never locked! "I know, but we're embarrassed to go in through there." O. So no embarrassment leaving in order to have some drinks (and some of these guys were hammered), but embarrassment to return after having missed the Haftorah, the rabbi's sermon and the beginning of Mussaf? Am I missing something? Anyway, I told them the shul's policy of no unauthorized minyanim, and at that point the Executive Director of the shul, who happened to be there, stepped in to confirm the policy and welcomed everyone to return to the main shul.

           You get my point. Davening is either important to you or it isn't. If it really is, it should be the priority.

Anything Else?

Finally, to return to the final issue, some who attend the Kiddush Club inevitably miss the rabbi's sermon – sometimes by accident (getting locked out) or sometimes on purpose. Missing the Torah thoughts (as well as Haftorah and Mussaf) is their own bein adam lamakom issue (between them and God), and walking out on the rabbi's sermon is their own bein adam lachaveiro issue (between the individuals and the rabbi). I have my own emotional feelings about this, but as the rest of this article has been focused on halakha and logic – sans emotions – I will not address this point specifically.

Leaving shul for all the events combined is a kavod ha'tzibbur (respecting the congregation) issue. If you don't respect the congregation you are a part of, you're not only fulfilling Groucho Marx's line about "not respecting a club that would have me as a member," but you are indicating that every reason why you come to shul is likely not the right reason.

With all the information that has been presented, I think it is quite clear that with the exception of a person who has healthy issues, leaving shul in the middle of davening for drinking and eating, whether done in a respectful manner or a not-respectful to what should be the dignity of shul and Shabbos manner, has no halakhic legs to stand on. And when children are around to witness drinking being glorified, and to see adults they know (including their fathers) behaving in a manner unbefitting the "makom kadosh" of a shul, can it be more obvious as to why this should not be tolerated during davening? What a horrible example – we are literally throwing out our tuition dollars for a few minutes of pleasure which could just as easily take place in a different time (i.e. after davening) and place.

How Can We Have Our Cake (and Shnapps) and Eat It Too?

            "If you're not against the concept of the Kiddush Club, per se, as drinking in moderation and with a chevra is not objectionable, and you only have a problem with the when, the where and the how, how would you recommend a proper setting for a Kiddush Club?"

            Here are a few suggestions – some that I've seen work very well, and some which border on the ridiculous, but may be needed to help people see how childish it is to have a Kiddush Club during davening.

1. The easiest way to get rid of the Kiddush Club is to have a zero tolerance rule for alcoholic beverages – beyond wine for Kiddush. This has been quite effective in many shuls. It is also best for providing a positive role model for kids – they see shul as a place where Kiddush is done properly, and they don't see drinking being glorified in any manner. It simply is not present.

2. Daven early – don't waste any time - and have your Kiddush Club in shul after your davening is over. With a dvar torah or divrei torah accompanying the camaraderie session.

3. I know a group of men who daven from around 8:30 – 10:30am, and go to someone's house where they have "shechar" and cake and spend the time talking about the Parsha and other Halakhic questions. Their gathering is a true Kiddush Hashem.

4. Change the structure of the shul's morning to have the "Kiddusha Rabba" in a setting in which people can have their break, moderate the drinking, and go back to shul without the need for another break

5. If people really need the break, the shul could have a table set aside with coffee, fruit and cake. A minimal number of people will actually have a need to utilize this. But a coffee break is quick. It is individual. And it does not provide for a mass exodus, the way a Kiddush club does.

6. If people need to "get out," the shul must have a good reader read the Torah and the Haftorah, and the rabbi can speak after davening is over. Those who don't want to hear the rabbi's sermon can leave and have their Kiddush (not that this is proper, as I mentioned earlier, but in some cases "boys will be boys.")

7. Similar to the previous one, following the thought process of the Shulchan Arukh (286:1): "The proper time for Mussaf is immediately after Shacharis… Rama: If one prays Mussaf before Shacharis, he is yotze." Let the shul daven Shacharis and then Mussaf, and then have the Torah reading. It sounds ludicrous, but I have seen shuls do this on Simchas Torah (to avoid drunk kohanim duchening and drunk chazzanim davening) and it has been successful on that date. If people are so needy for the drink and the "out," let them take their own account when it comes to hearing the Torah and the Haftorah, but not take away from the davening, which is "B'rov Am Hadras Melekh" – with a larger crowd the King is glorified. Of course, a structure such as this will becoming the laughingstock of the community, and it may cause the Kiddush Club to naturally fade away so the proper structure of davening can be restored.

May we all merit to appreciate what it means to have respect for Tefillah. May we merit to share that appreciation with others. May our shuls become places of greater dignity in the service of God, as we channel our collective energies to such a worthy goal.

Coming of Age Properly

Parshat Vayishlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

I recently overheard two fathers of teenagers comparing their approaches to their sons' shul attendance on Sundays and other "days off." One of them came to me afterwards to discuss his related concerns about "texting on shabbos."

With a little insight from Parshat Vayishlach, perhaps there is a simple answer to both questions. I accept that I may be hopelessly naïve. But the stand I propose at the end of this will not be, if followed, what turns your children away from Judaism. Much bigger issues bring about such a result. Having said that, let us see how we can find parenting-inspiration from our forefather Yaakov.

One theme in Vayishlach is the coming-of-age of Yaakov's children.

Unlike in Vayetze where they appear as backdrops in the narrative of events in Padan Aram, in Vayishlach, we see an entirely different story. Consider: Reuven and Bilhah, Shimon and Levi in Shechem, all the brothers dealing with the prince of Shechem, and Yosef being singled out as the last son to meet Eisav. Even Dinah's experience in Shechem, while tragic, is arguably her initiation into the "real world." The brothers, collectively, plunder the city of Shechem and are later asked by their father to remove the idols that they have from their midst.

Yaakov's role as parent is fascinating, at times very active, and at times quite passive.

Immediately after dividing into two camps, Yaakov prays to the God of his fathers (32:10-12). Through remembering his roots in front of his children, he is demonstrating his understanding of why he is in this situation and the expectation he has from the God Who promised to watch over him and his children.

           

Whether Yaakov was crippled (end of Ch. 32) in order that he may: experience the promise God made to him (Chizkuni), be shown he would not be defeated (Radak), or ultimately win in a confrontation (Yalkut Shimoni), all help Yaakov realize that you can't run from your fears. In facing his brother with one unified camp, scrapping the two-camps plan, he models and teaches his children that if you boldly face what you think is your greatest fear, you may find that the only thing you really feared, if I may borrow from FDR, was fear itself. Facing one's destiny is more important than running like a coward. 

           

When his injured "gid hanasheh" prevented him from running, he became emboldened and confronted his brother in the open field. Abstaining from eating this nerve of an animal could be a reminder that cowardice is unbecoming of those who are God-fearing.

            

Yaakov takes the sidelines in allowing his sons to deal with Shechem. They speak "b'mirmah" – using tricks – (as did their father to Yitzchak (see 27:35)) and they bring justice against those who defiled their sister (34:27). Their father is disappointed in their choices, but they literally get the final word (34:31). It seems that they take the teachings of their father – to use trickery, to stand up to those who oppress you or who want to make your life miserable – and they run with them. And while they may not be entirely correct, their actions are somewhat justified by the context of the perpetrated deed.

            

In the final tale, when God tells Yaakov to go to Bet-El to make an altar to his God, Yaakov tells his sons to remove the idolatrous images they have (35:2). They listen! They give them to him, and he buries them under a tree!

            

Yaakov has modeled a line of behavior for his children. They learn from his example, they take his lead. They are not perfect, and they make choices he doesn't like. But when he tells them to give him precious items because they conflict with the prayers he will soon engage in, or because they don't fit in to the mood of the household, they acquiesce – no questions asked.

            

Parents of children who are coming of age certainly notice the changes they go through. Hopefully parents give children the freedom to make choices (and to make mistakes!), but hopefully both parents and children respect one another and have the ability to communicate with one another in general and about what is important to them.

Claiming you don't want to make your child go to shul for a 9am (or later!) minyan on a Sunday because you're afraid of losing your relationship with your son seems silly to me. Your kid davens (or attends davening) in school every day of the week. Sunday is the day you show your kid that you daven too! And that it isn't a day off for him or for you!

            

Finally, if Yaakov could convince his sons to give up golden images and jewelry which did not jive with the home he was building, I see no reason why the texting on shabbos "problem" is a problem. Every home can have an "off-limits-on-Shabbos" box, and every cell phone, tablet, etc. in the house is placed there before shabbos.

            

The same parents who pay their kids' cell-phone bills and give their kids credit cards should have every say as to when the phone is on and off-limits.

            

Yaakov buried objects which were far more precious, for the sake of preparing for serving the God that protected him and his family through the years. Shabbos is the day we serve the God that has protected and sustained our families through the years. If we are afraid of our children or can't bring ourselves to put up simple guidelines that brings the family on the same page in terms of prayer and Shabbos, we are doing something very wrong as parents.

            

Despite all the problems, "Yaakov's sons were twelve." (35:12) With God's help, and properly standing for what "our family believes in," we should merit to raise children who not only follow our examples for the good, but who surpass our expectations in their observance of the Torah, their relationships with God, and their religious experiences.