Hallelujah

One of our most memorable celebrations of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, was when we lived in Dallas, Texas in the early 1980s. A group of mostly young families had started a new synagogue. Our regular services were held in a small storefront in the neighborhood, but for the fall holidays, anticipating a larger crowd, we had rented space in a recently constructed hotel a few blocks away from the neighborhood.

A “day” on the Jewish calendar actually begins at sundown on the evening before. The evening prayer service that begins Yom Kippur is a deeply spiritual and somewhat somber affair. We arrived at the hotel and followed the signs to the room we had been assigned. It was part of a very large ballroom that had been divided with the built-in movable panels that hotels typically use, dividers that blot out some, though by no means all, noise, while doing nothing to prevent the spread of aromas. So you can imagine our dismay when we arrived that evening to find that we were sharing the ballroom space with a travel agency that was conducting a promotional event for a trip to Hawaii, including loud Hawaiin style music and a “luau” complete with a roasted pig. We tried to conduct the service, but after a few minutes the Rabbi said, “we cannot continue this, you should all go home and complete the prayers yourselves there.” By the next morning when we returned, the smell had dissipated and the hall was entirely empty, so the holiday proceeded as usual.

That was the worst Yom Kippur synagogue experience I have ever had. Most were more benign, not especially moving or exciting but not objectionable. Then about twenty years ago we attended for the first time fall holiday services at the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale (HIR). While we love being with our children and grandchildren, and the services at Young Israel of Sharon are nice, our daughters can testify that every year I tell stories about how amazing the music and the feeling are at HIR and how I longed to be there again sometime. I can still remember the first time we experienced this, spending the entire day walking around saying to anyone who would listen that I could not remember ever enjoying Yom Kippur quite so much, and wondering if I should feel guilty about that! HIR is the only synagogue we have ever attended where there is essentially no break during the entire day – the early morning (Shacharit) service flows into the additional (Mussaf) service, which flows into the afternoon (Mincha) service, which flows into the evening (Neila) service, with barely time for a bio break.

This year worked out to be the perfect chance to return. Barry needed to be in New York on the Wednesdays before and after Yom Kippur, and we did not want to drive back and forth so many times, so the best choice was to arrange to be back at HIR this year.

As the holiday approached, I was afraid that I might not have the stamina to get through the day and that, even if I did, I might be disappointed. I do still struggle with reading the prayer book. Might that frustration make this experience much less pleasant? All of these thoughts were completely washed away by the start of the Kol Nidre (Yom Kippur eve) service. Hearing Elli Kranzler’s voice again was all I needed to get me through.

I have attached here a link to the sermon Rabbi Avi Weiss delivered. He ended by leading the congregants in many repetitions of the chorus to Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” This sort of blending of the traditional with the contemporary is one of the many things I love about Rav Avi.

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/yesh-tikvah-three-steps-to-a-life-of-hope/

While familiar with the song, I had never really listened closely to the full lyrics. I have attached a copy of the Leonard Cohen recording with the lyrics scrolling.

May you all be blessed with a spiritually and emotionally fulfilling year.

Love,

Rebecca