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.

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.