By Donald H. Harrison
LA JOLLA, California –Nancy and I arrived a bit earlier than necessary for the grand Shabbat service and dinner on Friday, Oct. 24, at Congregation Adat Yeshurun, watching the hustle and bustle as caterers prepared meals and set up tables in a large tent for the hundreds of people who would be in attendance. The courtyard of Adat Yeshurun is dominated by a grand old tree around which the synagogue and its classrooms were built in
U-shape. It’s a pleasant place to sit and watch.
Later, as congregants arrived and greeted each other warmly, including our hosts Diane and Jay Shore, we were led into the sanctuary, Nancy to the women’s section, running the length of the room and elevated above the men’s area, and me to the Men’s section. There, I was nervously seated up front with San Diego Jewish World‘s occasional book reviewer, Jack Forman, who is far more knowledgeable than I about Orthodox prayer ritual, and he coached me through an interesting service, made more exciting than usual by the presence of the chief cantor of the Israel Defense Forces, Shai Abramson; eight members of the IDF choir, and choir director Ofir Sobol who alone among the group wore civilian garb. They will be performing in concert Tuesday night, Oct. 28, at the Balboa Theatre in downtown San Diego.
When the cantor sang familiar prayers, the choir sometimes came in for melodic emphasis, and at other times harmonized with him, so that I, and I assume others seated in the congregation, were hearing new versions of familiar prayers. Some were chanted with catchy rhythms, and I thought this might be what it would sound like if Moshe Koussevitsky met the Jersey Boys.
At Adat Yeshurun, the bima is a platform with a reader’s table in the center of the room, and during the first part of the service, Abramson and the IDF choir chanted from there. But in the latter part of the service, they went to the front of the congregation, facing the Aron
Kodesh, where they joined Rabbi Jeffrey Wohlgelernter and his guest scholar, Rabbi Hanoch Teller, a Jerusalem based story teller and tour guide.
I typically attend services at the Conservative Tifereth Israel Synagogue or the nearby Reform Temple Emanu-El, so many of the rituals at Congregation Adat Yeshurun were unfamiliar to me as well as to Nancy.
For example, at one point there was a procession during the service in which the men paraded around the bima– or at least as far around the bima as we could get, amidst the handshaking and well-wishing–as we all joined the cantor and choir in a happy, hand- clapping chorus. I am used to parading the Torah around at Saturday morning services, but this Friday night procession was without the Torahs.
As I walked around the central hall, I looked up into the women’s section and saw Nancy watching us–and I somehow felt guilty that I could be having all this fun, and she was required by gender rules to simply observe. Nevertheless, I saw that many other women upstairs took this division for granted. Nancy and I prefer egalitarian services, with men and women sitting together, but to each his or her own.
Whenever I go to synagogue, I look forward most to the rabbi’s sermon, and Rabbi Wohlgelernter did not disappoint. The Torah portion of the week was Noach, and instead of dwelling on the flood, the rabbi spoke about the Tower of Babel. Men in those generations after Noah had become arrogant, considering themselves capable of contesting with God. (Wohlgelernter used a Hebrew expression, I believe for “Master of the Universe,” rather than “God,” in his sermon).
He said the parasha tells in some detail about the bricks that were used to build the Tower of Babel, and said it was significant that the builders chose brick–a man-made substance–instead of stone, which had been created by God as part of His universe. Of course, their plan to build a ziggurat to the heavens was frustrated when God decided to make it so that everyone spoke a different language, making communication and cooperation, amid their babbling, impossible.
The Sabbath, the rabbi said, transports humanity from the realm of man and his bricks, to the realm of God. It is supposed to be a special time, when we set aside the cares of our mundane lives and enter into direct communication with God.. Giving Noah a plug at the end of his sermon, the rabbi likened the Sabbath to the “ark” that represents serenity. In this view, Shabbat is not a time between the weeks; the weeks are times between Shabbats.
After the service, Nancy and I were rejoined and seated together at a table with others of both genders for a buffet chicken dinner, with numerous salads, vegetables, and side dishes. Before we ate, congregants were urged to wash. I had done so before coming to the table, but my good friend Jack Forman insisted that I wash ritually, that is pour water over my hands while intoning the appropriate prayer. And why not?
Besides Jack, guests seated closest to us included Diane Shore’s son Michael, and her friend Marlene Rissman with her son, Jeffrey Hillel Rissman. We spoke some during the dinner, but I must admit that there were so many voices talking at the same time inside the large tent, that my ears were overwhelmed by the cumulative effect. Even when we all quieted down to hear what Rabbi Wohlgelernter was saying from a platform in the middle of the large tent–the Orthodox do not turn on electricity during Shabbat, so accordingly there was no amplification of his voice–I couldn’t make out a word. His body language indicated, however, that he was quite pleased with all that was transpiring.
Notwithstanding the discomfort of unfamiliarity, Nancy and I enjoyed the dinner too, and thank the Shores for inviting us. Noting that we were not the only Jews from other movements attending the special evening, Jack urged the “big tent” metaphor upon me — that Judaism is a big tent, which includes and welcomes Jews of many backgrounds and movements.
We left the synagogue by foot, and walked a few hundred yards to where our car was parked. Driving, of course, is not an approved practice because turning on a car;s ignition is equivalent to sparking a fire, one of the forbidden activities on Shabbat. There were many other cars parked on the street and not just ours. Given that our residence is on the other side of San Diego from La Jolla, and we didn’t plan to stay as guests at a home or hotel within walking distance of the congregation, there was little option other than to drive. This was not true of Jack, who walks all the way from his home in University City to Adat Yeshurun, and then after the service walks back home, a considerable trek, especially with the hills. I admire Jack. However, I won’t be emulating him.
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Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World. He may be contacted via donald.harrison@sdjewishworld.com
An honest, detailed review of your Shabbat evening at Adat, as seen through the eyes of a fair-minded Jewish journalist. Thank you and Nancy for participating and learning some ways about our ancestors way way back celebrated Shabbat. It was our pleasure having you as our guests!