First Shabbat

My first Shabbat in Jerusalem has been, mostly, really lovely.

Kabbalat Shabbat started with a reception at the President of HUC’s, David Ellenson’s, apartment on campus, just for the first year students, as well as some visiting officials from HUC and the URJ (the Union for Reform Judaism, the congregational branch of the Reform movement. I think. I’m still sorting out all of the Reform nuances and how the different organizations relate to each other). It was a lovely event; it was the first time all first years were together, and we did some introductions, the officials talked a bit about how important our jobs are for the Reform movement and for American Jews in general, we did a quick text study, and then moved outside for Kabbalat Shabbat services.

Sidebar: a quick note about the environment. I was previously told, by a few people, that this year would be a “Rabbino-centric” culture, meaning the program, while for Rabbinical, Cantorial, and Education students, would be centered around the Rabbninic students. They are the largest block and the one with the greatest perceived importance. That was made very clear at the reception, when the HUC and URJ machers mainly talked about the role of Rabbis, sometimes Cantors, but mostly ignored Educators. This could get a little frustrating. Additionally, I’m not a Reform Jew. I wasn’t rasied in the movement and I don’t identify as a Reform Jew. I’m not sure I identify as a Conservative Jew either, and so let’s call me trans-denominational, for the moment. But whether or not my degree will be nondenominational, it’s from a Reform institution, and for the next 3 years, I’m going to be deeply submerged in the Reform culture, a culture I’m really very unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable in.

The service was a mixed experience. The setting was gorgeous; we were on the grass overlooking the Old city as the sun set behind us. Is there a better place to pray? But then there was the prayer itself. For one thing, one of the reasons why I’ve resisted identifying with the Reform movement is I’ve never sat through a Reform service I loved. Part of that is I just don’t go to Reform services, but part of that is my discomfort with some liturgical, performative, and ideological choices. Friday night was no different. It was led by a Cantor on staff, with a classical guitarist playing along; one student later described it as a “classical guitar concert.” It was not a fulfilling prayer experience, to say the least. I was slightly comforted to learn that I was not alone in this feeling, which made my previous discomfort of being a non-Reformite diminish. Hopefully, as well, this cohort will work together to make some very meaningful prayer experiences this year and back in LA - otherwise it's going to be a very long three years.

Additionally, there was a very awkward moment during Lecha Dodi. During the last verse, you’re supposed to stand and face the door in order to welcome the Shabbat Bride. But what do you do when you’re outside? My tradition, how I’ve been taught, and what I’ve done at camp and any other outside prayer experience, is to face the setting sun, because that’s what the mystics at Tsfat did: they ran towards the west, welcoming the Shabbat. So during the last verse of Lecha dodi, I turned west, only to look face-to-face with basically everyone else in the crowd who was standing towards the east.

This is an awkward thing. The general rule of thumb in prayer service is to go "when in Rome..." and follow the community. But I was already standing towards the sunset, and saw a few others were as well, and I felt that facing east defeated the entire purpose of the standing, so I stayed. In the row behind me, the people I was facing, one girl (a student) pointed towards the old city and said, “It’s over there.” An older woman (not a student) looked at me, sighed, and snickered. They thought I was stupid or confused or just lost. It was a very sour moment and gave me a bitter taste in my mouth for the rest of the evening. After the service, I talked to two other student who did the same thing, and we agreed that we were also right, and that ended the few hours of self-doubt.

Dinner was nice; the food was fine. After dinner the students dispersed to hang out at a few apartments, some went to bed. I schmoozed with some classmates for a while and then left to go to sleep – still fighting the jet lag!

Shabbat morning was lovely. About a third of the students went to Kol Naneshama, a progressive congregation in the south end of the German colony (read: 50 minute walk from my apartment. A nice shabbas walk.) It was a great service; there was a lot of Hebrew, a very personable and charismatic Rabbi (who was an Oleh and spoke Hebrew slowly and without an accent, making his sermon easier to understand), and a very welcoming community. They called all of the new students (HUC, Pardes, Schecter) up for an aliyah, which was really nice as well.

For Seudat Slishit (the third meal of Shabbat, Saturday evening), the school hosted a picnic in Liberty Bell park, and people brought food and guitars and cards and shesh-besh (backgammon) and frisbees and we hung out until we did Havdallah. It ended up being a really great first Shabbat for the year.