First, a side note: It would be remiss if I were not to mention that Brandon attended services with me, and has for the past two years. Brandon isn't Jewish, but he takes an active interest in my religion and culture. While he doesn't sing along in synagogue, he still attends, listens to what the rabbi has to say, and even tries to read the Hebrew where he can! He's a profoundly supportive boyfriend; I truly couldn't ask for anything more.
Now, about San Antonio. The Jewish community here is fairly small, but they're extremely active, so it feels a lot bigger than it is. The reform temple here is called Temple Beth El, which cracks me up because I've now lived in three cities and attended three Temple Beth El's.
The Bimah was gorgeous.
The Rosh Hashanah service was lovely. They had a rabbinical student and former member of their congregation do the Torah reading, and she was fantastic. She read, rather than memorized, the passage and translated as she went. She would read a sentence first in Hebrew, then go back and translate it into English. It was a bit choppy, but seriously impressive.
After services there was a social event for 20- and 30-somethings that included appletinis (a play on apples and honey, the traditional dish eaten at Rosh Hashanah.) The young adults group seemed extremely active, and eager to expand their efforts. We signed up for their email list and plan to attend more events.
The Yom Kippur Kol Nidre service was a bit more toned down, as Kol Nidre will be (Kol Nidre is the evening service, there are also morning and afternoon services for the second day. I generally only attend Kol Nidre.) There was another elderly rabbi who did a bit of ad-libbing that I found enlightening.
On Kol Nidre we hear some prayers that are only sung once a year. This year, Yom Kippur fell on Shabbat, which means there was also a small handful of prayers that we only hear once every several years. Instead of stopping to explain the unique prayers, the rabbi called our attention to the everyday prayers that we hear constantly. He shed both the Sh'ma and the V'ahavta in a new light for me.
The Sh'ma is a very short prayer, two lines. It is the central tenant of Judaism. It claims that there is only one God, and that he reigns over everything. Now it seems like a simple sentiment, but at the time when it was first spoken, it was a radical political statement, as Judaism was the first monotheistic religion. Before reciting the Sh'ma last night, the rabbi described it as a prayer describing God's uniqueness.I'd never heard a rabbi interject that in the service before.
He did something similar for the V'ahavta, a prayer which lists the places in your life where you should keep the word of God (the doorposts of your house and near to your heart are some examples): instead of simply asking us to rise and recite the V'ahavta as usual, he first said "next we will recite a passage from Deuteronomy. This passage asks us to bind Gods words upon our hands, but the root word in Hebrew can also mean 'to connect,' so as we connect ourselves to God let's also connect ourselves together as community." It was a nice little metaphor, but more importantly, it forced us to stop and think critically about the V'ahavta, instead of just reading it from memory.
I enjoyed attending a synagogue with such an involved congregation and a rabbi dedicated to making people think a little more critically about their religion. It was very comforting, and Temple Beth El has certainly helped to make me feel more at home in Texas.
No comments:
Post a Comment