A Breath of Fresh Air

It had been almost two weeks since I’d left home. My anticipation had been building towards my first Shabbat in Jerusalem in quite a while. With only one Jerusalem-based Shabbat this time I felt my choices weighing on me. Where to go? In which worship community should I place myself in order for my soul and spirit to be nourished.  I miss the days when my summer Jerusalem stays included three or even four Shabbatot.  Then I could float around to various synagogues and communities, as if I were at a buffet.  Rather than gorging myself on just one taste sensation, I could mix it up.

Last Friday night I chose to return to Zion, a congregation I'd only visited once before. It was in Summer 2014 that I’d heard the buzz about Zion.  Friends told me, “it’s warm and the singing is incredible.” In the interim, I've become a supporter of this community and even shared copies of their recent CD which features many of the melodies which have been composed for the congregation.

In the days leading up to last Friday friends suggested that Zion would be mobbed – it was.  Some warned me it would be stiflingly hot – it was not.  I arrived about 15 minutes into the singing. With not one empty seat in the hall I stood on steps for about 30 minutes until a seat did open up.  Seated, I found myself able to close my eyes, and focus on my breath and the community’s voice. It was a powerful worship experience, as were the messages shared at strategic points in the worship by a member of the congregation, the community’s Rabbi, Tamar Elad-Applebaum, and a rabbi visiting from California. For me, one pivotal moment came as we were singing the traditional Kabbalat Shabbat piyyut (liturgical poem), L’cha Dodi. The poem was written by Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz, one of the pillars of the Kabbalistic (Jewish mystical) community situated in 16th century Tzfat. It is custom in synagogues around the world that for the final stanza the congregation rises and faces the entrance, symbolically welcoming Shabbat HaMalka (the Sabbath Bride) into the midst of a community ready to fully enter Shabbat. As we stood and turned I felt a sudden rush of air pouring through the open windows. It was refreshing. It was invigorating.  Coupled with the exuberant sound of the community singing powerfully, I could not help but feel as if that rush of air was the Sabbath Bride herself entering and greeting each one of us in the room. As I left  a short while later, making my way to the home where I’d been invited to Shabbat dinner, I felt light and buoyant.  A spirit was carrying me from worship to dinner.

Shabbat morning found me at another synagogue I love to visit when I am in Jerusalem. I was first introduced to Shira Chadasha (“a New Song”) in 2004.  Now, I try to make it to this community at least once whenever I am in Jerusalem. Shira Chadasha meets in a community center in Jerusalem’s German Colony.  They have no rabbi, or other staff as far as I can tell.  They gather on Shabbat and Holy Days for worship, as well as at points during the week for study. I can truly say that Shira Chadasha is the Orthodox congregation in which I have felt most comfortable in all my years of worshipping in such settings. Both men and women take part in leading the worship, carrying and chanting from the Torah, and delivering the week’s D’var Torah (homiletical interpretation of the week’s Torah reading.)   The singing is invigorating, and the community is welcoming, even to those of us who only visit when we are in town.

As this week’s end approaches Shabbat is again on the horizon. I eagerly looking forward to welcoming Shabbat at the Port of Tel Aviv with Beyt Tefillah Yisraeli.  I have been attending their Shabbat evening services for many years – in the summer months on the Promenade in the port; and otherwise at a nearby community center.  When Beyt Tefillah gathers in the Port, it’s not uncommon for there to be between 700-1000 folks who join the gathering. The last summer I spent here, 2014, due to the War with Gaza, and the countless missile launchings from Gaza large public gatherings were prohibited.  I am eager to see this tapestry of Israelis and others gathering to joyous celebrate lie, its blessings, and Shabbat in its outdoor setting.

Set against the backdrop of tensions surrounding the Kotel (the Western Wall) and the proposed change in the Conversion Law (about which I will write in the days ahead) the spirit and vitality I find in these, and other uniquely Israeli communities is inspiring. Worshipping in these unique Israeli congregations, I find a sense of the thirst of Israelis who do not wish to be forced into worship experiences that do not speak to them.  Rather than simply staying away, there are a growing number of Israelis and Israeli congregations exploring and expressing their Jewish identity in ways that speak to them.

Maybe it was the Sabbath Bride’s gust I felt last Shabbat at Zion.  Or maybe it was the fresh air that is coursing through ever-growing segments of Israel’s Jewish communities. Either way, it felt good!

Keyn yirbu – May they continue to increase.